I went to see Bruce Springsteen — for maybe the 15th time, which I guess makes me officially a fanatic — in concert Sunday night in Austin. As you may have heard, this is Springsteen’s overtly political tour, sparked by the deaths in Minneapolis of innocent protesters Renee Good and Alex Pretti at the hands of Donald Trump’s jackbooted thugs.
And sparked also by Trump’s entirely unnecessary, probably illegal and clearly self-defeating war in Iran. And, we should add, Trump’s attacks on democracy and the rule of law. It’s all of a piece.
I was down, as careful readers of this column might guess, for both the music and the politics of resistance, with Springsteen denouncing the venal, racist, traitorous, incompetent and reckless Trump administration. The wording is not exact, but you get the idea.
But I also wanted to hear how he would address the violence at the White House Correspondents’ dinner the night before. There is sadly no Denver stop for this brief, unplanned two-month road show.
Before each concert on the tour, Springsteen has delivered a monologue about how those who believe in America need to rise in protest against the president “who brought death and terror to the streets of Minneapolis,” saying Trump had picked the wrong town to take on.
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SUBSCRIBESunday’s monologue would be a little different. He opened with the usual prayer for the safety of those men and women fighting overseas and then segued to this:
“We also send out a prayer of thanks that our president, nor anyone in the administration, nor anyone attending, was injured at last night’s incident at the Correspondents’ Dinner.
“We can disagree. We can be critical of those in power, and we can peacefully fight for our beliefs, but there is no place in any way, shape or form for political violence of any kind in our beloved United States.”
This would seem to be a rather unremarkable observation, but, sadly, it’s not. Not in the world, or in the country, in which we live.
We should be able to agree that dissent is not violence. (See: No Kings marches.)
That criticism is not violence. (I’ve got nearly 50 years of columns to prove it, although in response to one, a Western Slope public official actually said I should be “eviscerated” on the state Capitol steps. I’d like to think he was kidding.)
That Jimmy Kimmel’s monologues do not lead to assassination attempts. (Trump and Melania both want Kimmel fired again for a “widow” joke, and the sycophantic Federal Communications Commission, naturally, is investigating.)
Taking a gun across the country to attempt to shoot the president or others in his administration — that’s violence. Three apparent assassination attempts on Trump — that’s violence.
The Minnesota legislator and her husband who were shot and killed — that’s violence.
A father shooting and killing eight children, including seven of his own, in Louisiana — that’s violence. And it’s violence that guns kill nearly 45,000 people in America each year.
And yes, political violence is obviously on the rise — and the president has too often been the target — but it must be said that in our highly polarized society, violent rhetoric is endemic to the Trump administration. If violent speech is the problem, we know where to look.
Do we need to be reminded, as Cathy Young wrote in the Bulwark, how Trump and MAGA world celebrated the attack on Nancy Pelosi’s husband, Paul? Or what Trump said upon the death of his nemesis Robert Mueller: “Good, I’m glad he’s dead. He can no longer hurt innocent people.” Or of Trump’s vow to “root out the Communists, Marxists, fascists, and the radical left thugs that live like vermin within the confines of our country”?
Or of his encouragement, for that matter, for the January 6 insurrections, which would be followed by his blanket clemency for the rioters, including for those who had been convicted of violent attacks on police officers.
In his news conference following the shooting, Trump was unusually forgiving, noting the event — sponsored by the media or, as Trump likes to call us, “ENEMY OF THE PEOPLE” — showed a “tremendous amount of love” and said “we have to resolve our differences.”
And then, as you’d suspect, he congratulated himself for the foresight of building the White House ballroom, which would offer far more protection than a hotel ballroom.
And, as day follows night, Republican officials lined up to say almost exactly the same thing — that the gargantuan ballroom is not only a tribute to Trump’s, uh, architectural taste, but also necessary to protect him and other officials.
If a ballroom could actually do that, a friend advised me, maybe we should build a ballroom in every public school.
Lauren Boebert has already introduced legislation in the U.S. House that would give the ballroom congressional approval, the lack of which has been a sticking point in courtrooms. She calls it the TRUMP Ballroom Act — TRUMP standing for “Tactical Revitalization and Upgrade of Modern Presidential” Ballroom Act. Toning down the rhetoric, Boebert said she didn’t believe Congress needed to authorize the ballroom, but that “activist judges and leftist dogwalkers” have gotten in the way.
And it gets worse. The Trump-wholly-owned Justice Department filed a decidedly unfiltered motion Monday against the National Trust for Historic Preservation to get the ballroom’s construction back on track. You won’t believe this, but here’s the wording in part:
“Because it is DONALD J. TRUMP, a highly successful real estate developer, who has abilities that others don’t, especially those who assume the Office of President, this frivolous and meritless lawsuit was filed. Again, it’s called TRUMP DERANGEMENT SYNDROME.”
Again, we can assume a judge won’t be impressed, except maybe by Trump’s derangement.
Worse still? In the latest act of Trump’s vengeance tour against his enemies, former FBI chief James Comey was indicted again — the last indictment against him was thrown out in court — for threatening the president’s life. Here’s Comey’s crime as alleged in the indictment, which could result in a 10-year prison sentence:
“He publicly posted a photograph on the internet social media site Instagram which depicted seashells arranged in a pattern making out ‘86 47’, which a reasonable recipient who is familiar with the circumstances would interpret as a serious expression of an intent to do harm to the President of the United States.”
Seashells by the seashore. No wonder Springsteen — and so many others — rise in protest.
In a New York Times Magazine article this week picking the 30 greatest living American songwriters, it says of Springsteen that he has “continued to believe in songwriting as a tool to hold his bruised, beloved country accountable.” It adds, “He takes seriously his self-appointed role as America’s conscience, its cultural ambassador and its chief firefighter, and he knows that these jobs are never done.”
And at the concert Sunday night, Springsteen preached because, in song and more lately in word, that’s what he does.
As he ended his opening monologue — just as he did in this clip from Los Angeles — he said, “So tonight, we ask all of you to join with us in choosing hope over fear, democracy over authoritarianism, the rule of law over lawlessness, ethics over unbridled corruption, resistance over complacency, truth over lies, unity over division and peace over war.”
And if anyone in the arena had objections to what they might call Springsteen’s self-righteous campaign — and I’m sure there were some — there was no time to say so.
At the word “war,” Springsteen and the E Street Band exploded immediately into the song “War.” You know the lyric from Edwin Starr’s 1970 No. 1 hit — “War, huh, yeah, what is it good for? Absolutely nothing.”
But for me, that moment and the nearly three hours of Springsteen’s high-energy rock ‘n’ roll that followed were absolutely good for something — for healing a room full of battered souls in desperate need of at least one night of salvation.
Mike Littwin has been a columnist for too many years to count. He has covered Dr. J, four presidential inaugurations, six national conventions and countless brain-numbing speeches in the New Hampshire and Iowa snow. Sign up for Mike’s newsletter.
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