Arlo Guthrie’s Presidential Rag

White House reporter Arlo Guthrie? Or is it concerned citizen Arlo Guthrie? Let’s say both.

In “Presidential Rag,” released a few months before Richard Nixon’s resignation as president, Guthrie does a stellar job reporting and lamenting the abuses of the Nixon White House. Though his words of anger are expressed calmly, the song is still a denunciation. It’s a gentle but commanding song with a melody somewhat resembling another of his originals, “Coming Into Los Angeles.” Guthrie’s performance is not as intensely delivered, but this time he’s dealing with the Commander-In-Chief, not the man in Customs. Still his soft delivery encompasses a sense of urgency about the plight of America in 1974.

A feeling of urgency was felt throughout America the first seven months and eight days of ’74, but not over Nixon and the Watergate scandal. Instead, the most immediate concerns of workaday Americans 50 years ago were the oil embargo and high food prices. The illegal activities of the Nixon White House were an affront to the nation, but people hoped all could be resolved. Richard Nixon would face impeachment, or finally back down and resign from office.  He did so on the ninth day of August, with Gerald Ford, newly sworn in as President, declaring the “long national nightmare” behind us.

Ford was on to something. It was like a recurring nightmare, the same one throughout the night. The bad dream wasn’t so scary to make one feel urgently fearful, yet it was a nerve-wracking time.  Americans sensed the Constitution would work; but the nerve of Richard Nixon! How dare he put the nation through his struggles and further lunging and grasping for power? He leaves office only when convinced that members of his own party will not support him. Arlo Guthrie’s “Presidential Rag” splendidly captures the country’s exasperation with Nixon in those days.

Guthrie’s questions to Nixon may not be as sharply delivered as Dan Rather’s were, but they have a moral thrust all the same:

You said you didn’t know that the men with the bugs were there

And you’d never go along with that kind of stuff no-where

But that just isn’t the point, man, that’s the wrong, wrong way to go

If you didn’t know about that one well, then what else don’t you know?

Guthrie sized it up. Say what you will about Nixon, but a controlling executive like him had to know of the law-breaking tactics his administration and reelection campaign used to keep him in power. He was no dummy. People who thought him like a shady used-car salesman also knew he was a keen observer of the geopolitical scene. Some of his foreign policy initiatives were visionary. And he was truly the one controlling his administration. He set the tone. So it was difficult to believe a freelancing group of Moe, Curly and Joe types were plotting burglaries and tapping phone lines.

In the song’s second verse, Guthrie takes on Nixon’s excuses and denials by observing “nobody could talk like you and know what’s going on.” As the song progresses, he questions the president’s claims that “it’s all fixed up now” and that he’s “got the new guys on the line.” With so many of the previous aides dealing with prosecutors and facing time, there was no choice but to get “new guys.” Still, a lot of the old problems remained; like the division and suffering brought on by the war in Vietnam, the one he promised to end peacefully and honorably:

Mothers are still weeping for their boys who went to war

And fathers are still asking what the whole damn thing was for

Guthrie has shifted from his role as reporter to that of concerned citizen. He has concerns, reminiscent of those felt by the Gary Cooper character in Meet John Doe. Guthrie’s concerned citizen then brings up Nixon’s desire to be remembered more favorably, as one who promoted  a “generation of peace.” His legacy was important to him and Nixon would spend most of the last 20 years of his life fine-tuning it:

Yes, you’ll be remembered, be remembered very well

And if I live a long life, oh, the stories I could tell

Of men and wars and poverty, of sickness and of greed

Hell yes, you’ll be remembered, be remembered very well

Nixon’s vanity could be comforted by knowing he’d be remembered favorably for detente with the Soviet Union, the opening to China, ending the draft, creating the EPA and other policies that would be anathema to modern day conservatives. He’d also be remembered for other things.

In the paper-of-record, The New York Times, Nixon’s obituary, dated April 24, 1994, opens with praise for his high intelligence and innovative concepts, but even in the opening paragraph, Guthrie’s observation is affirmed. The last sentence of the first paragraph reads, ”Yet he was so motivated by hatreds and fears that he abused his powers and resorted to lies and cover-ups.”

“Presidential Rag” is probably the most direct political song written by Arlo Guthrie. Many of the songs he’s written and recorded throughout his career chronicle lives and events effected by things political. One can learn a lot of history by listening to his albums. After all, Arlo, as did his father, Woody Guthrie, had a front row seat to events and movements that defined America’s 20th century history.

Guthrie has proven a fine interpreter of classic material, some of it old, some not so, by the likes of Jimmie Rodgers, Steve Goodman, Lead Belly, Bob Dylan, even Mick Jagger and Keith Richards. And whether by birthright or sheer desire, he has long been one of the best at presenting his father’s songs.

Arlo Guthrie said long ago that he’s not a politician and he’s not running for anything. But he claims “sometimes you gotta say what’s on your mind, so that other people are comfortable telling you what’s on their mind. I like that environment.”