The Power and the Glory

“Come and take a walk with me across this green and growing land, walk through the meadows and the mountains and the sand…” Phil Ochs, “The Power and the Glory'”

I came of age during the 1960s and, like many of my generation, was swept up in the “folk craze.” America had rediscovered its traditional folk music. It wasn’t long before a cadre of young folk singer/song-writers added their original songs to the genre.

Of course, when we think back on the early to mid 60s, Bob Dylan and Joan Baez come to mind. I certainly resonated to their music, but Dylan, who produced such protest songs as “Blowin’ in the Wind,” “Masters of War” and “With God on Our Side” soon branched out beyond that genre. Baez, though a social activist, also sang a wide array of songs.

As a mediocre guitar player and song writer who sometimes daydreamed about becoming a traveling troubadour, I gravitated toward the relatively obscure Phil Ochs. Phil, perhaps fueled by the bipolar disorder that ultimately led to his untimely suicide in the 1970s, most often lent his beautiful voice and masterful pen to songs that cried out against injustice and hypocrisy. Pulling no punches, he railed against racism, American imperialism in the service of big business, political and social hypocrisy and the maldistribution of wealth, exposing and shaming those who betrayed the professed values of our nation. He made me aware of what was really going on in an America where, then as now, reactionary actors battled against social change.

This morning I woke up with one of my favorite Ochs songs playing in my head, “The Power and the Glory.” It’s a call to arms, sending out a warning about the dangers that, then as now, beset our nation.

Ochs, himself, considered this song one of his best, but interestingly, despite its melodic beauty and musical power, the first couple of verses seem little but an echo of Woody Guthrie’s “This Land is Your Land.” They describe, in lovely poetic language, the beauty of our country, from north to south and sea to sea.

Then comes the chorus:

“For here is a land full of power and glory, beauty that words cannot recall,” and here’s the shift, “Her power shall rest on the strength of her freedom, glory shall rest on us all.”

The next verse, which on the original record led back to the chorus after which the song ended, moves further beyond Guthrie’s anthem.

“For we’re only as rich as the poorest of the poor, only as strong as the padlocked prison door, only as strong as our love for this land, only as tall as we stand.”

Phil had more to say, but, unfortunately, one verse didn’t make it into the album, the so-called “controversial verse.” This one flies like an arrow into the heart of our current era.

“Yet our land is still troubled by men who have to hate, they twist away our freedom, they twist away our fate. Fear is their weapon and treason is their cry. We can stop them if we try.”

These days, as we find ourselves on the cusp of installing a dictatorial regime in what was once regarded the inviolate sanctuary of democracy, we all know who these people are and the danger they pose. Unthinkable though it was to most of us back in Phil’s time, this danger was crystal clear to him.

Phil hoped to awaken, to rally us. “We can stop them if we try.”

There’s still time to stop them, but are we trying hard enough?

Too many Americans still live in a state of denial, a false sense of security, dissipating their energies on superficialities and on the self-indulgent lifestyle our culture has drifted into. As we continue to take our freedoms too much for granted, acting as though they will persist even if left untended, a question begs an answer.

Will the American experiment end in failure on our watch?

We shall know soon enough.