The Incorrigible Optimist

In an academic atmosphere where shallow sophistication is often the social posture, and skepticism a handy critical tool, the beauty of personal warmth and kindness is frequently forgotten. But there are those who feel that a desire to hoard information like gold can never replace the certainty that learning should be sifted and tempered with humanity to breed wisdom.

It is refreshing to talk with a person who reflects this attitude--which some cynics attribute only to "the folk." Pete Seeger is proud of the fact that he is part of the American folk, although he is probably one of the few Exeter and Harvard students to admit it. No matter how you feel about Seeger's political opinions, it is difficult to deny that his convictions are formulated from a genuine love of the human race.

A tall reed of a man with an infectious smile and a ringingly sincere voice, Seeger gives the impression that most of his 40 years have been spent walking the streets of the world, convinced that every man is his brother. "I guess that when I sing," he says, as if formulating his credo, "I am trying to reinforce some of the positive views I feel. As an incorrigible optimist, I am trying to confirm faith in mankind--and it's hard sometimes, reading what I do in the newspapers."

Many of Seeger's political views were molded at Harvard, where he was a student from 1936 to 1938. Surveying his career at the University, he recalls, "I got so interested in the Harvard Student Union that I had no time for my studies. The Union had all kinds of people--radicals, socialists, pacifists, communists and God knows what else. We spent most of our time discussing isolation, collective security, Hitler, and Spain. We were split on Hitler: some of us felt that use of force and violence and war was just a delusion; others said that the only language Hitler knew was violence."

Though a Harvard man for two years, he feels that, "it's a little like old home week when I come back here to sing. I wonder why that should be? Is it because we're from similar backgrounds? You know, Harvard has a national reputation for being cold and standoffish, but its audiences aren't like that at all."

As he speaks, Seeger's voice registers two distinctly different tones. When he reminisces about his life, or discusses the historical aspect of folk music, it is matter-of-fact. But whenever he talks of his concern for peace and understanding, or his faith in mankind, he seems to project himself onto the concert stage: his voice becomes resonant and sincere. He is like a universal lover pleading with the world to 'believe in me, for I speak the truth."

Seeger has often been accused of merely disseminating propaganda through his protest songs. He recalls one interview he had several years ago with a CRIMSON reporter, when "I admitted that folksinging was a means of propaganda. The next day I found myself in a headline, 'Seeger Says He Sings Propaganda Songs.'

"Folksinging is propaganda. It's a mistake, though, to say that protest songs are limited merely to unions and politics. For example, songs of unrequited love are really protests against unrequition. Or the child who sings "I hate Bosco, it's bad for you and me' is displaying a form of juvenile protest. I wish people could think of protest songs as covering the whole range of human experience."

Folksinging, he feels, "encompasses everything that life is about. If something is worth talking about, it is worth singing about. That doesn't mean singing takes the place of thinking. It is irresponsible to sing without thinking, just as it would be irresponsible to make love without thinking. I also think it is wrong to have thoughts and not be able to express emotion."

Seeger rolled the cuffs of his dull orange shirt above his elbows. He was dressed informally--blue pants and work shoes. (At the concert next evening he added a red tie and dark jacket.)

"My own objective point of view is that it can never do any harm to speak your mind, whether you are right or wrong. It's a little like voting: some people say you can't change the political scene by adding your vote to 100 million. By the same token, doesn't it do some good to sing one song and convince a few people?"

Although he is the first to admit that he is neither a politician nor an economist, Seeger firmly believes that no policy decision is so complicated that ordinary people should be denied a voice in its formulation. "Someone once said that 'military matters are too important to be left to generals.'"

He is firmly convinced that political barriers between peoples can be overcome through singing. "I have seen people from different backgrounds all sing together and end up with a warmth they didn't realize existed. The world is full of fear and suspicion, and people are only afraid of each other--singing just breaks down these artificial barriers."

His most important contribution to folksinging, he feels, is the interest he stirs up. "I'm just part of a broad pattern, one of the most important things in American life. The most important thing about folksinging is not the concerts I gave last year, but the million people who bought guitars."

Folksinging by itself is not a panacea for the world's ills, he admitted. "Some people have asked me if I trust Russians. I trust Americans too. Some people don't."