When Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered his immortal “I Have a Dream” speech on August 28, 1963, the National Mall was already alive with music. Mahalia Jackson, Joan Baez, and Bob Dylan lifted voices in freedom songs like “We Shall Overcome” and “Blowin’ in the Wind” before a quarter-million people gathered in Washington.
The music was spiritual armor for the movement. King himself wove song into his speech, quoting “My Country, ‘Tis of Thee” and closing with the spiritual’s soaring proclamation: “Free at last, free at last, thank God Almighty, we are free at last.” This was strategic non-violence in action, wielded through music, one of the movement’s most powerful yet underappreciated weapons.
In his writings on the Albany Movement, he declared that freedom songs were playing “a strong and vital role in our struggle,” giving people “new courage and a sense of unity.” But King recognized that music was a tactical element of non-violent resistance, capable of de-escalating violence, maintaining discipline, and transforming hearts.
The first language of protest
To understand freedom songs as strategic tools, one must trace their lineage through Black musical tradition. The journey begins with spirituals created by enslaved people. They created songs that were simultaneously expressions of faith, coded messages, and a means of survival.
“This generation of youth are experiencing a new era of inequity and injustice. What better way to empower our young people than to educate them on our history and how they can use music for change?”
Dr. Ann Lundy
“Virtually all of the spirituals could be considered as coded music,” says Dr. Mtangulizi Sanyika, a veteran scholar-activist who participated in civil rights demonstrations in New Orleans in 1961-62. “When songs such as ‘Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’ or ‘Wade in the Water’ were sung, they were very definitely coded songs that the enslaved Africans had developed. Our oppressors just considered them to be songs of sorrow. The songs were very definite ways that the enslaved were communicating with each other about plans to escape.”
These spirituals evolved through gospel traditions and into the mid-20th-century jazz that King himself praised. In his 1964 Berlin Jazz Festival speech, King described jazz music as “triumphant music” that transforms life’s hardships into hope, a “stepping stone” to meaning, love, and faith, recognizing it as the voice of the African American struggle, expressing both sorrow and joy, and a search for identity amidst oppression. He saw it as music that “speaks for life,” turning the blues’ story of difficulty into powerful, uplifting sounds.
King wrote in his book Why We Can’t Wait that activists sang freedom songs “for the same reason the slaves sang them, because we too are in bondage and the songs add hope to our determination.” The lineage was clear: from plantation to picket line, music remained a weapon of the oppressed.
Sanyika connects freedom songs directly to King’s philosophy of non-violence. He says King spoke about six principles of nonviolence. “Music embodied several of them simultaneously. Songs created what King called ‘creative tension‘; they dramatized injustice without physical force,” he says. “They built the beloved community through congregational singing that united people across generations and classes. And the dignity displayed through song could shame oppressors into recognizing our humanity.”
Music became non-violence made audible. In direct actions, songs maintained discipline by setting the rhythm for marches and picket lines. When words failed under pressure, when fear threatened to break resolve, voices joined in song could steady the line.
Dr. A. Jan Taylor, a retired Director of Choral Activities at Prairie View A&M University, traces the evolution of these spirituals into the freedom songs of the 1960s.
“Negro spirituals were instrumental in terms of being the backdrop of the movement,” Taylor explains. “Many of our spirituals, the tunes were used, but they changed the words to fit the social justice themes that were happening. For instance, the words in ‘Don’t You Let Nobody Turn You Around’ were changed to apply to the civil rights movement theme.”
Next generation to fight the power
Songs addressing inequality and injustice have a rich history, predating King by decades. A notable example is Billie Holiday’s powerful 1939 performance of “Strange Fruit,” which hauntingly depicted the violent lynching of Black individuals in the Southern United States.
Another significant piece is the spiritual hymn “I Shall Not Be Moved,” which evolved during the civil rights movement into the more secular anthem “We Shall Not Be Moved,” famously performed by gospel singer Mavis Staples. Furthermore, King’s message of hope influenced many artists and activists, including Sam Cooke, who penned the iconic song “A Change is Gonna Come,” reflecting the aspirations for social change and justice during the civil rights era.
Dr. Anne Lundy, Music Director at Houston’s Community Music Center and the first African American woman to conduct the Houston Symphony Orchestra, sees the contemporary relevance.
“When I work with young musicians in Third Ward, I’m teaching them that music has the power to unite communities,” she says. “To express what words cannot, to transform spaces of conflict into spaces of possibility. That’s the legacy of the freedom songs.”
The effectiveness of freedom songs stemmed partly from their accessibility. The Civil Rights Era and its legacy provided a soundtrack for hip-hop, with early hip-hop emerging from the same struggles for justice, carrying on traditions from soul/folk anthems, and evolving into its own powerful voice, seen in artists like Gil Scott-Heron and Public Enemy “Fight the Power“, directly addressing systemic racism, police brutality, and Black empowerment that defined the earlier movement.
Lundy has organized musical tributes to King in Houston since 1983. She continues to educate the younger generation of Black artists about the power of music and its impact on today’s current societal issues.
“This generation of youth are experiencing a new era of inequity and injustice,” she says. “What better way to empower our young people than to educate them on our history and how they can use music for change?”
