“Black people will be free”: When Aretha Franklin bailed out Angela Davis
Sometimes in music, greatness doesn’t necessarily exist within the individual elements of a song. Sometimes nothing extraordinary is achieved, but instead, the alchemy of the individual elements combined achieve greatness. But sometimes, the greatness is worn plainly and its status as such as indisputable. Whether it’s a raucous ability to play drums drums, the mind-boggling detail of a supreme guitar player or in the case of Aretha Franklin, a voice that can soar to the heights of greatness.
A once-in-a-generation singer, it’s easy to understand why Franklin’s voice was one of social revolution for many. While her deeply soulful vocal takes could portray the delicate realities of love, heartbreak, and everything in between, she had the power to cut through the noise and send critical social messages.
Whether it was on ‘Respect’ or ‘Young Gifted and Black’, Franklin had an uncanny ability to infuse the poignant with the delicate, creating a buttery soundscape that had a hot knife cutting through it. While the contents of the aforementioned songs have fairly positioned them as civil rights anthems, their impact is only heightened by the personal commitment to activism that Franklin continuously displayed.
Speaking to the Detroit Free Press, Franklin’s friend Jesse Jackson spoke of her importance to the very existence of the Civil Rights Movement during the years it was led by Martin Luther King Jr: “When Dr King was alive, several times she helped us make payroll,” he continued, “On one occasion, we took an 11-city tour with her as Aretha Franklin and Harry Belafonte… And they put gas in the vans. She did 11 concerts for free and hosted us at her home and did a fundraiser for my campaign. Aretha has always been a very socially conscious artist, an inspiration, not just an entertainer.”
In 1970, two years after the death of Martin Luther King Jr, American political activist Angela Davis was accused of supplying guns used in a courtroom escape attempt. After spending two months on the run, Davis was arrested by the FBI, and her case became one of the country’s most public after then-president Richard Nixon called her a “dangerous terrorist”. It wasn’t until 1972 that she was acquitted.
During the two years when she was incarcerated, Jet magazine quoted Franklin as saying she was ready to post the cost of Davis’ bail “whether it’s $100,000 or $250,000”. She proudly stated: “Black people will be free. I’ve been locked up (for disturbing the peace in Detroit) and I know you got to disturb the peace when you can’t get no peace.”
“Jail is hell to be in. I’m going to see her free if there is any justice in our courts, not because I believe in communism but because she’s a black woman and she wants freedom for black people,” she continued. “I have the money. I got it from black people – they’ve made me financially able to have it – and I want to use it in ways that will help our people.”
While Davis’ bail was eventually paid elsewhere, Franklin’s defiant pledge was a line-in-the-sand moment for the civil rights movement and its relationship with art. When she passed away in August 2018, Barack Obama, described her as the perfect embodiment of “African-American spiritual, the blues, R&B, rock and roll—the way that hardship and sorrow were transformed into something full of beauty and vitality and hope,” he continued, “American history wells up when Aretha sings. […] It captures the fullness of the American experience, the view from the bottom as well as the top, the good and the bad, and the possibility of synthesis, reconciliation, transcendence”.
While Franklin’s legend is indeed showcased in her vocals that colour in every gap of the human experience, it’s rooted in her humanity that wasn’t reserved just for the vocal booth and the stage but instead her every decision and in her defence of basic respect.
