So the loudest man in American politics has taken a swing at an audience of backing singers. Donald Trump, in a characteristic fit of wounded pride, has attacked those artists who declined to perform at his so-called 'US Freedom Concert'. The event, a celebration of his own peculiar rendition of American exceptionalism, has suffered a series of high-profile withdrawals.
Musicians, it appears, have decided that liberty does not rhyme with sycophancy. One can almost hear the ghosts of the Victorian music hall laughing from the rafters. Yet, what truly fascinates me is not the tantrum of a defeated president, but the recalcitrant posture of British cultural influence in this affair.
For among those who chose to stand aside, several were British, or at least deeply rooted in the UK’s musical tradition. The message is clear: the cultural capital of London, Glasgow, Manchester, Belfast and Liverpool resists the cheap populism that has infected the American body politic. We have seen this before, of course.
During the fall of Rome, the provinces often held on to their own traditions even as the centre decayed. This is not merely a matter of political affiliation. It is a statement about the integrity of art.
The very idea of a 'freedom concert' sponsored by a man who attempted to overturn an election is an oxymoron of staggering proportions. The UK, by contrast, has a long and proud history of musicians using their platform for dissent. From the anti-war protests of the 1960s to the punk rebellion of the 1970s, the British musician has never been a lapdog.
And why should they be? We are a nation that gave the world the Magna Carta, the Chartists, and the suffragettes. We do not bow to bullies.
It is a curious irony that Trump, who claims to champion patriotism, has inadvertently exposed the hollowness of his own cultural appeal. The artists who dropped out did so because they understood that true patriotism is not about flag-waving at a political rally. It is about the quiet dignity of refusing to be co-opted.
The British influence in this is not accidental. Our cultural scene has always been more resistant to state capture. The BBC, for all its flaws, still operates with a degree of independence that American media can only dream of.
And our live music venues, from the Cavern Club to the 100 Club, are sanctuaries of artistic freedom. Meanwhile, the American freedom concert will go on, no doubt filled with B-list performers and C-list politicians. But the world will notice who was missing.
The British musicians who said no have done us all a service. They have reminded us that culture cannot be commanded, only cultivated. And that is a lesson the Roman emperors, and their modern imitators, never seem to learn.
