Paul Robeson, a commonly overlooked figure in the grand scheme of African American history, was the epitome of a Renaissance man. He distinguished himself in professional football, political activism, singing and acting. Robeson's powerful and robust, yet uniquely smooth bass timbre propelled him to the national limelight where he enjoyed an illustrious, albeit ephemeral, reign as a Hollywood actor and singer. One of the highlights of his film career is the well-known "Showboat" (1936), made famous by his unforgettable rendition of "Ol' Man River." In the dozen or so movies he appeared in, Robeson's acting roles were fairly limited to archetypal roles reserved for big black males. Yet, his 1936 film, "Song of Freedom," temporarily released him from such confinements by providing him with the effective political voice that he had been yearning for by that time in his career.
A "Song of Freedom" is about a working class black Londoner named John "Johnny" Zinga (Robeson), who feels a deep spiritual and musical connection to Africa, despite having been born and raised an Englishman. He stumbles into a career as an immensely successful opera singer, which eventually leads him to discover that he is the descendant of African royalty. Johnny uses his newfound wealth and fame to fulfill a lifelong dream of visiting his tribe in Africa to connect with his roots. Upon his arrival, he attempts to rule his people as their rightful king, but
things do not go so smoothly: the powerful witch doctor and his superstitious following reject Johnny's commands.
In its short 72-minute running time, the film emerges as a deeply thought-provoking challenge to the British colonial system, while simultaneously critiquing the pervasive negative effects of forced racial assimilation caused by the slave trade. Furthermore, the film highlights the erasure of African tradition within the context of white society. Considering its 1936 release date, "Song of Freedom" has an immensely powerful political agenda. It cleverly dispels an entire system of oppression, while maintaining the harmless cloak of a modernized fairy tale.
The London depicted in the film (where its first half takes place) is astoundingly non-racist. It's a fully integrated society where Johnny joyfully sings European opera for white audiences who love him and rave at his otherworldly talent. This setting establishes music, not race relations, as the major focus. While he enjoys singing opera, one particular tune, loosely based on the West African pentatonic scale, brings him joy above all else. This plot point is a play on the history of the Negro spiritual. Almost all black gospels can be played using only the black keys on the piano (the pentatonic scale - try it!). White composers called it the "slave scale," and they actively tried to merge it with the European major and minor scales. The operatic sound of Johnny's West African tune - the sacred song of his people - exemplifies the appropriation of the so-called slave scale into mainstream music.
The second half of the film takes on a different subject. Once he arrives in Africa, Johnny undergoes a major shift from being the oppressed descendent of slaves longing for Africa to the oppressor himself. He even begins to refer to England as his home! Hence, Johnny, the black Englishman, essentially has no home.
Being black, Johnny serves as an ironic representation of imperialism. He tears down the supposedly primitive culture he encounters and immediately labels their customs and beliefs as inferior to those of Europe. "It [has] got to be changed," Johnny says, and he does just that. Spoiler alert: the film has a "happy" ending (that is really not so happy). As we clap for the victory of our protagonist, we are simultaneously applauding the supposed success of British imperialism in Africa.
Nash Simpson is a senior majoring in English. He can be reached at Nash.Simpson@tufts.edu.
