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Monday, Nov. 27, 1978
And why was the Kremlin making such a
fuss about him ? Even the most knowledgeable American pop-music fan would be hard pressed
to identify Dean Reed. But in the Soviet Union, the Denver-born
country-and-western singer is more popular than Frank Sinatra. His
frequent concert tours of Communist countries draw S.R.O. crowds; his
songs, which frequently blend Marxist-inspired lyrics with twanging
strains of the Nashville sound (one big hit: War Goes On), sell in the
millions. Last week the 40-year-old singer gained a new notoriety in
his homeland; he turned up as the focus of the Kremlin's latest effort
to get back at the U.S. for Jimmy Carter's criticism of the repression
of Soviet dissidents. Last month Reed and 18 other protesters were arrested and jailed in
Delano, Minn. They were charged with trespassing on the right of way of
a 427-mile high-voltage power line long opposed by many farmers and
environmentalists. When word of Reed's arrest was flashed to a shocked
Soviet public, the news agency Tass dispatched a special correspondent
to cover the trial. Capitalizing on Reed's popularity, the Soviets also started a drumbeat
of staged flackery on the arrested singer's behalf. The newspaper
Komsomolskaya Pravda reported that telegrams "expressing wrath and
indignation at the arbitrary rule of U.S. authorities" were pouring in.
A quartet of Soviet classical composers fired off a message to the
White House prodding Carter to "urgently intervene to put an end to
arbitrary action and ensure the release of Dean Reed." Reed helped the
cause by refusing to post $300 bail, going on a hunger strike with some
of his fellow prisoners and announcing, "I consider myself a political
prisoner." In fact, Reed is an indifferent performer by American standards and a
habitual agitator. He left Colorado 20 years ago, after winning
fleeting local fame by outrunning a jackass in a 110-mile foot race.
Turning up in Latin America, he was arrested in Chile while
symbolically laundering an American flag outside the U.S. embassy. Then
he moved on to Rome, where he starred in eight spaghetti westerns, and
was arrested again in an anti-Viet Nam demonstration. During the 1960s,
Reed also made several triumphant tours of the Soviet Union. Audiences
there were impressed by his boyish good looks, syrupy baritone and
eclectic repertoire of folk, rock and mellow protest songs. He soon had
a huge following of Soviet fans, who considered him a "typically
American performer." Declaring himself an "independent Marxist," Reed settled in a plush
lakeside villa in East Berlin in 1973 and married an East German; they
are now divorced. He has kept his American citizenship and periodically
revisited the U.S. He came to Minnesota to promote El Cantor, a movie
about a Chilean singer who Reed claims was tortured to death after the
fall of Marxist President Salvador Allende. The Russians clearly expected that Reed would be convicted, thereby
justifying their charge that the U.S. crushes dissent. Unfortunately,
the jury acquitted Reed and his codefendants. The singer himself
hailed the verdict as a "courageous and unpopular decision." The Soviet
press reported the acquittal but then fell silent—presumably waiting
for another victim of American injustice.
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