All posts by Halldór H Kristínarson

Halldór is the managing editor of Shouts - Music from the Rooftops!, an investigative journalist, audio engineer, and animal rights activist. Currently based in Cuernavaca, Mexico.

“A Suitable Beast”: Towards an Autopsy of Patriarchy

Cover art by Gadzooks Bazooka for the song “A Suitable Beast”

Men cannot change if there are no blueprints for change. Men cannot love if they are not taught the art of loving. – bell hooks1

I held the idea of the song “A Suitable Beast” in my mind for years before I could connect it to my heart. I didn’t want to write an ode or a critique, but an investigation cloaked in curiosity. As I dove deeper I dove into Ernest Hemingway’s life, the song quickly became a mirror where I confronted my own self-inflicted rage, Whiteness, and patriarchy. As noted by Carole Pateman and Charles Mills, this dominator culture is intertwined: “race is gendered and gender is raced.”2 Many authors have critiqued Hemingway on his white supremacy, masculinity, and upholding of colonial thought.3 Toni Morrison notes in Playing in the Dark how Whiteness often hides behind the term “American”:  “The act of enforcing racelessness in literary discourse is itself a racial act. Pouring rhetorical acid on the fingers of a black hand may indeed destroy the prints, but not the hand. Besides, what happens in that violent, self-serving act of erasure to the hands, the fingers, the fingerprints of the one who does the pouring? Do they remain acid-free? The literature itself suggests otherwise.”4

Reflecting on Judith Butler’s concept of gender being a performance I have a bar in the song, “It’s hard to live up to those lies that bloomed in you.”5 As a White male who grew up in a working-class setting, I learned to play the part of masculinity by holding in emotions, appearing stoic, and seeking to intimidate. The gift of art and hip-hop for me was encountering artists such as MC Lyte, Black Thought, Tupac, and Yasiin Bey, particularly Tupac’s song “Dear Mama,” which helped me unlock my emotions with the key of vulnerability. Tupac in “Dear Mama” rapped how he cried with his sister about their family being in poverty and how he made mistakes and opened up vulnerably about how he loved his mother. Along with vulnerability, Yasiin Bey’s song “Rock N Roll” showed my colonial mind a more honest history, exposing appropriation and exploitation of how many White musicians stole and profited from Black musicians. Revisiting Morrison’s extended metaphor, Tupac and Bey expose the crime scene of Whiteness and masculinity showing where and when the acid has been poured.

Masculinity’s Faustian bargain of domination for masking feelings, veiling emotions, and burying love is a deadly deal of disconnection.  In A Farewell to Arms, Hemingway profoundly writes, “If people bring so much courage to this world the world has to kill them to break them, so of course it kills them. The world breaks every one and afterward many are strong at the broken places. But those that will not break it kills.”6 Harkening back to A Farewell to Arms the last parts of my song say:

His dad shot himself with his father’s revolver
The world breaks everyone the cycle revolves
He was a big game hunter but the last beast was in his head
He piled up the dead animals but could never bury his dread
Did you hit the target or did the target hit you?
You were the bull and the matador that paradox split you

Even though Hemingway became more progressive on race and gender later in his life and had the courage to create and wrote with vulnerability, he too battled with his avatar of masculinity intersecting with traumas and ghosts.  Commenting on Hemingway and masculinity, Diane Herndi writes how “masculinity itself becomes a self-inflicted wound.”7 Art has the ability to communicate on multiple levels, convey massive amounts of information, and make us reflect, beautiful art is gauze for self-inflicted wounds. These paragraphs aren’t panaceas, but if cis men work to break down hierarchies and collaborate to destroy patriarchy by “being disloyal to the dominator model,” countless lives could be saved.8

Reflecting on the extended metaphor I used in the song–that the last beast he had to hunt was in his head–turned the topic into an autopsy on patriarchy. Unfortunately, patriarchy is alive and well in myself, people, culture, and society. My hope is that we can continue to support subcultures where boys, men, and people can continue to diagnose where patriarchy animates them and silences them into a rage so we can stop doing singular autopsies on people (mainly women) who died too soon from patriarchy, and we can one day do a universal autopsy on patriarchy and speak of it in terms of fossils and the past tense. 

chris time steele is a writer, poet, and rapper, and part of the group Calm. with AwareNess. Time has worked with Common, Kool Keith, Xiu Xiu, Ron Miles, Mick Jenkins, Psalm One, Che Noir, Extra Kool, namebuddha, scott crow and more. Time is host of the Time Talks podcast.  He has chapters with Noam Chomsky and Joy James, and in the books Building Power While the Lights Are Out and Trust Kids.  He also has a forthcoming book with Dr. Gerald Horne titled Acknowledging Radical Histories.


1 bell hooks, The Will to Change: Men Masculinity and Love (New York: Washington Square Press, 2004), xvii.   
2 Carole Pateman and Charles Mills, Contract and Domination (New York: Polity, 2007), 4
3 Toni Morrison, Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination (New York: Vintage, 1993): Josep M. Armengol, “Performing Manhood through Animal Killings? Revisions of Hunting as a Performance of Masculinity in Ernest Hemingway’s Late Writings,” Men & Masculinities 23, no. 5 (December 2020): 833–51, doi:10.1177/1097184X20965454.: Margaret E. Wright-Cleveland, “Hemingway’s Dialectic with American Whiteness: Oak Park, Edward Said, and the Location of Authority.” Hemingway Review 39, no. 1 (Fall 2019): 40–61. doi:10.1353/hem.2019.0016.
4 Toni Morrison, Playing in the Dark: Whiteness and the Literary Imagination (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1992) 9, 46
5 Judith Butler, Gender Trouble: Feminism and the Subversion of Identity (New York: Routledge, 1990)
6 Ernest Hemingway, A Farewell to Arms (New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1957)
7 Diane Price Herndl, “Invalid Masculinity: Silence, Hospitals, and Anesthesia in ‘A Farewell to Arms.’” Hemingway Review 21, no. 1 (Fall 2001): 38–52. doi:10.1353/hem.2001.0003.
8 bell hooks, The Will to Change: Men Masculinity and Love (New York: Washington Square Press, 2004), 59.


This article was originally published on 21 December 2023 on hemingwaysociety.org and written by chris time steele.

Ethiopian protest music: the songs of Hachalu Hundessa reveal the struggles of the Oromo people

Hachalu Hundessa’s songs gave a soundtrack to the Oromo resistance. Screengrab/Maalan Jira!/YouTube

Asebe Regassa Debelo, University of Zurich

The Oromo are the largest ethno-national group in Ethiopia, accounting for over 40 million people or more than one-third of the population. However, they have been politically oppressed, economically exploited and culturally marginalised under successive Ethiopian regimes. Since the 1960s, the Oromo have sought self-determination through various forms of resistance, such as armed struggle under the banner of the Oromo Liberation Front.

Music has played a key role in the Oromo resistance movement. As is the case in many other societies – especially those where open political debate is risky – music serves as an instrument of defiance, allowing artists and their fans to stand up against dominant socio-economic, cultural and political forces. From legendary musicians to amateur singers, Oromo artists have used protest songs as part of their struggle for freedom, justice and equality.

Hachalu Hundessa (also written in the Oromo language as Haacaaluu Hundeessaa) was one of those musicians. Through his poetically eloquent protest songs, the young singer-songwriter came to represent the Oromo struggle. Then, in June 2020, he was murdered. Three men were convicted for the crime a year later, but no motive was given. Many believe it was a political assassination.

Hundreds of thousands of young people across Oromia, Ethiopia’s largest regional state, took to the streets in protest, demanding justice for Hachalu. Members of Oromia’s large diaspora also staged protests in US and European cities. The Ethiopian government used the protests and ensuing violence (reports at the time suggested that more than 80 people were killed) to justify its crackdown on Oromo opposition political parties.

As a political geographer, I focus on the struggles of the dispossessed and their covert and overt forms of resistance – one of which is protest songs. After his death, I studied three of Hachalu’s works: Maalan Jira! (Do I even exist!), Jirra! (We are still there/alive!) and Jirtuu? (Are you there?). My interest goes beyond mere scholarly analysis; there is emotional attachment there, too. I was part of the Qubee Generation, the youth cohort that spearheaded the 2014-2018 Oromo protest movement to which Hachalu’s songs added inspirational impetus.

In the resulting paper, I show how Oromo protest music like Hachalu’s reveals a history and geography of violence through land dispossession and political persecution. It is also more than just a record of events in time and space: protest music forges collective identity and spurs political movements. I also strive to comprehend what a musician like Hachalu Hundessa represents – and what it means to destroy a body that embodies the power of resistance.

Three key songs

Hachalu Hundessa was born in Ambo Town, some 120 kilometres to the west of the capital city, Addis Ababa, in 1984. He was active in Oromo student movements when he was at secondary school and was imprisoned by the government when he was just 17 years old, spending five years behind bars because of his activism. While in prison he worked on his first album, Sanyii Mootii. It was released in 2009 and immediately made him popular.

A group of men, several carrying banners and one wearing a t-shirt that calls for justice for Hachalu Hundessa, raise their fists in the air
Members of Minnesota’s Oromo community protesting in the wake of Hachalu Hundessa’s murder in 2020. Brandon Bell/Getty Images

The first song I analysed was Maalan Jira! (Do I even exist!), the title track from his 2015 album. He tells of the occupation of Finfinne (what is today Addis Ababa) in the 1880s that dispossessed the Tulama Oromo clans, displaced them from their ancestral homes and sacred places and dismantled their social institutions.

He takes the listener or viewer through a mental map of history. The lyrics can be viewed as a struggle to dismantle institutions and discourses of settler-colonial systems long imposed by the Ethiopian state upon the Oromo. The murder of Hachalu, then, can be interpreted as an attempt at silencing counter-histories in Ethiopia.

Malaan Jira, the title track from Hachalu’s 2015 album.

The second song in my paper, Jirra! (We are still alive!), was released in October 2017, when the Oromo protest movement was at its peak. He underscores the determination of the Oromo, locating the resistance in physical places. He does this by naming places where the movement had a strong presence, articulating the convergence of different corners of Oromia towards the goal: liberation.

The third song, Jirtuu? (Are you there?) again exposes the historical events related to land dispossession and political oppression. At a live performance in December 2017, during a fundraiser in Bole for Oromos displaced by clashes with the neighbouring Somali region that year, he asked the crowd: “Where are you?”, then encouraged them: “Say we are in Bole!” The crowd cheerfully echoed his statement.

A live performance of Jirra!

This was not just a singalong. Bole is a district of Addis Ababa, home to wealthy people who settled on land expropriated from Oromo farmers. The performance was a declaration of the Oromos’ right to self-determination and a call that they should one day control the Imperial Palace – the offices and residence of the Ethiopian prime minister.

The lyrics include:

Kaafadhu farda keetiin loli, Arat Kiiloof situu aane (Fight with your horse, you deserve Arat Kilo – the national palace); Kaafadhu Eeboo keetiin loli, Arat Kiiloof situu aane (Fight with your spear, you deserve Arat Kilo)

Why this matters

My analysis reveals the power of Hachalu’s protest songs in unsettling dominant narratives and institutions, and in serving as a strong instrument of the Oromos’ political and social movements.

His music intertwines time, space and identity. It renders the reconstruction of the past and imaginations of the future amid contemporary uncertainties. In doing so, music serves as an archival library of the past, a platform of the present, and a mirror of the future.

Asebe Regassa Debelo, Senior research and teaching fellow, Department of Geography, University of Zurich

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

EU Parliament calls for overhaul of streaming industry

Members of the European Parliament (MEPs) have called for a major overhaul of the music streaming industry to address the disparities in revenue allocation among performers.

The European Parliament is looking at a revision of pre-digital royalty rates.

Recently, MEPs voted in favour of setting up a new EU legal framework to ensure artists are fairly compensated.

One of the major proposals in the vote is the revision of pre-digital royalty rates to allow for fair pay of authors. The other is the scrapping of payment schemes that force authors to accept lower or no revenues in exchange for greater visibility.

The resolution also called for European musical works to be visible, prominent and accessible on streaming services, with a hint at potential quotas to enforce this.

The lawmakers also want digital service providers to “make their algorithms and recommendation tools transparent and to add labels to any tracks that are AI-generated.”

While the resolution itself is non-legislative, industry insiders say the vote serves as a plea for the European Commission to acknowledge the main concerns around music streaming and initiate legislation to address it.

The European Parliament has received praise for the vote, with many stakeholders terming it as timely.

The European Independent Music Companies Association (IMPALA) welcomed the vote, with executive chair Helen Smith saying the call for modern digital rates is preferable in her members’ eyes to “so-called new ‘equitable remuneration’ rights which some parts of the sector are calling for.”

The European Grouping of Societies of Authors and Composers (GESAC) has also applauded the vote, calling it “a strong signal of recognition and understanding of the needs of creators.”

Spanish politician Ibán García del Blanco praised the European Parliament for giving a voice to the concerns of European creators, who are at the heart of the music streaming market.

“Cultural diversity and ensuring that authors are credited and fairly paid has always been our priority,” he said. “This is why we ask for rules that ensure algorithms and recommendation tools used by music streaming services are transparent as well as in their use of AI tools, placing European authors at the centre.”

In recent years, streaming services have come under pressure to introduce better terms for artists whose music appears on their platforms. In November, Spotify announced that it would introduce changes to its royalty payments from early 2024, including a policy that requires tracks to achieve a minimum of 1 000 plays every year in order to receive royalties, a move that has been criticised widely.


This article was originally published by In-house East Africa on the musicainafrica.com website, on January 23rd 2024, under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercialCC BY-NC licence.