Politically active rap group addresses white privilege, proactivity and the true meaning behind hip-hop music
Wednesday night, Mutulu Olugabala, also known as M1, half of the tell-it-like-it-is politically aware group Dead Prez, spoke in front of a packed crowd in Duane G1B30.
Dead Prez’s revolutionary agenda surrounded four main topics that would form the basis of its overall message: economic development, political education, not living in white privilege or arrogance and reparations given to the community.
“This is a white school with a tremendous amount of privilege and people need to fully comprehend their responsibilities,” said Joanna Burrows, a recently graduated English literature major. “Underprivileged people don’t even have the chance to be here and we need to understand that.”
He began his crusade into radical political and social activism with an a cappella version of his politically driven song “Police State” and as the crowd burst into cheers, he delivered the message, “What I’m talking about is more than music, what we mean to do is be proactive.”
Four of his comrades, all dressed in black, were members of the new Black Panther Organization. They stood stoically behind M1 as he described his evolution from a kid who wanted to get out of “the hood” and into a man who organized revolution.
“I’m not a rapper, if you sit here and look at me like a rapper then you missed the point. I’m an organizer, a father and I’m here to make a revolution,” M1 said. “I’m looking in the eyes of everyone in this crowd for the next Che Guevara.”
Born in Jamaica in 1973, raised in Brooklyn and educated at Florida A&M University, M1 has been a staple in the black power movement since the early 1990s. While at the university, his mother was jailed for conspiracy to sell drugs and his family was falling apart. He decided college wasn’t his goal in life and he wanted to change the world.
“What I got from the campus was an excuse from reality, driving to dive head first into the petty bourgeoisie,” M1 said. “It was a breeding ground for answers that aren’t answered, conclusions without conclusions, a lesson in futility.”
Soon thereafter he joined the African People’s Social Party in Tallahassee, Fla. and began his slow evolution into one of the hardest-working revolutionary activists within his community. Following the beating of Rodney King, M1 travelled to Chicago to learn more about governmental injustice.
While there, he learned the story of Fred Hampton, Sr., who was assassinated by the FBI in a pre-emptive strike to curb the black power movement. Hampton Sr. was the leader of the largest chapter of the Black Panther movement in history.
Shortly thereafter, he signed on to lead the campaign to save Fred Hampton Jr., son of Fred Hampton Sr., who was sentenced to 18 years in jail for allegedly throwing a firebomb into a Korean grocery store.
“Our motto at the time was, they took one Fred Hampton from us and they can’t take another,” M1 said. “You can kill a revolutionary but you can’t kill a revolution.”
As the Black Panthers movement grew larger, some would say they were the highest revolutionary trend the world has ever seen. This created unrest within the government and prompted the head of the FBI, J. Edgar Hoover, to call the Black Panthers the highest threat to internal security in the United States.
“Hoover created the Counter Intelligence Program with the No. 1 initiative of stopping a black messiah that would rise up and electrify the black masses,” M1 said. “This is where I got my revolutionary start, I’m the ball in the spray paint can, I mix it up.”
According to M1, the initiative sent snitches into the Black Panther movement, threw people in jail and introduced Vietnamese heroin and crack into black neighborhoods.
“They militarily defeated the Black Panther movement,” M1 said. “The same government that was fighting people in Vietnam was putting brothers in jail for longer than I’ve been alive.”
After another round of applause, M1 broke into discussion about what he’s known best for: hip-hop. He revealed his belief that hip-hop has become a code word for criminal, when its true purpose is to serve as the voice of the black working class.
“It’s more than merely music,” said Reiland Rabaka, professor of ethnic studies. “Rap is the soundtrack to hip-hop.”
As his emotionally-driven speech came to an end, M1 called on the audience to step forward and take the future into their hands.
“Reparations mean us giving back to the community to revolutionize the movement,” he said. “You gotta move a mountain to remove capitalism.”
