In the heart of the anti-Vietnam War movement of the 1960s and 1970s, Judy Collins stands out for her memorable performances, particularly a notable one in Washington, D.C. She recalls singing Bob Dylan’s “Masters of War” for a massive crowd, accompanied only by Bruce Langhorne on guitar. The collective spirit at such protests was palpable, as attendees often joined in, singing key songs that felt like a rallying cry. “Music has a way of inspiring action,” Collins notes, emphasizing the powerful connection between protest songs and social movements.
As we mark 50 years since the end of the Vietnam War, it’s worth reflecting on the unique era of protest music that accompanied those tumultuous times. Artists like Collins, Joan Baez, Pete Seeger, and Peter, Paul and Mary became central figures in the push to bring soldiers home, their efforts resounding across the globe. Songs such as “Masters of War,” “Give Peace a Chance,” and “Blowin’ in the Wind” became hymns not just of an anti-war movement but of a generation striving for change.
The ambition and causes championed in those days haven’t diminished. New issues like climate change, racial inequality, women’s rights, and more continue to motivate musicians worldwide. While artists today like Kendrick Lamar and Steve Van Zandt add their voices with songs like “Alright” and “Sun City,” these contemporary pieces rarely capture the widespread cultural memory or influence as much as the tunes from decades past. According to Ginny Suss, organizer of the 2017 Women’s March and founder of the Resistance Revival Chorus, today’s diverse genres and decentralized identities make it challenging for protest songs to achieve the unity once seen.
Ronald Eyerman, a Yale University sociology professor, highlights that songs powerful enough to become universal anthems like “We Shall Overcome” are increasingly rare. Most protest songs now tackle issue-specific subjects, lacking the broad adaptability of past anthems. Dorian Lynskey, author of a history of protest songs, explains that the Vietnam War era, driven by events like the military draft and civil rights movement, was ripe for music to encapsulate broad social upheaval.
Bill Werde, Syracuse University’s music business school director, points out that while protest music persists, its potential to become mainstream hits has dwindled, partly due to the music industry’s consolidation. Outside the U.S., protest songs still influence societies under strict regimes, seen in Iranian and Indonesian music challenging government actions. Yet, in America, the urgency often seen elsewhere isn’t as pronounced.
Puerto Rican artist Residente, known for his political songs, feels strongly that protest music is thriving, albeit perhaps more subtly. He references recent songs by artists like Bad Bunny, which tie U.S. history to Puerto Rican struggles for independence, and his own collaboration highlighting the plight of Gazan children. This era’s protest music could flourish if current societal tensions, akin to those during Donald Trump’s presidency, are channeled into cohesive anthems.
Back in the 1960s and 1970s, political and social divides fueled a blossoming landscape for protest music—a landscape somewhat diminished today due to fewer mass media platforms and industry consolidation. Werde remarks that for a protest song to reach anthem status, it often requires a significant societal catalyst, pointing to moments like the Black Lives Matter movement driving songs such as Lamar’s “Alright” into the cultural spotlight.
Sometimes, songs become unintended anthems based on audience reception. Oliver Anthony’s “Rich Men North of Richmond,” not aligned with any political party, unexpectedly resonated with Republicans. This phenomenon exemplifies how music’s power can be manipulated for political purposes, turning marketing strategies into political statements.
Despite these challenges, Collins remains hopeful. She continues to perform protest songs alongside newer material, noting that her audiences enthusiastically respond. For her, these songs transcend specific messages—they’re about life itself, engaging listeners in an ongoing dialogue about the world and its trials. As she performs classics like “Where Have All the Flowers Gone,” she’s reminded of their timelessness and the enduring need for voices of change.