Words for my comrades - interview with author Dean Van Nguyen
By Jess Spear
Dean Van Nguyen, Words for my comrades: A political history of Tupac Shakur (London, 2025).
Jess: I was extremely excited when I saw an announcement for Words for My Comrades. I grew up in the late 80s and 90s and was a huge fan of rap and hip hop, including Tupac/2Pac. I remember recording “Keep ya head up” (on a cassette tape!) and listening to it over and over so I could write down the lyrics. But really, it was my relationship with my high school boyfriend, Issa, who was obsessed with both Bob Marley and Tupac, that opened my eyes to what Tupac was really saying (in some of his songs). Issa was from Beit Sahour - a town east of Bethlehem, Palestine, which he visited every summer. Bob Marley and Tupac spoke to the injustices of racism, colonialism, and occupation, not just in the past, but as they are happening today, and also the rage and raw emotion it conjures. I didn’t know it at the time, but the four years during which Issa and I dated and grew up together, spending hours listening to both Bob and Tupac, were philosophically and politically foundational for me.
Can you tell our readers a little bit about yourself and why you chose to write a political history of Tupac Shakur?
Dean: For sure, I’ve been a writer and journalist for a good spell now, mostly covering music and culture. Words for My Comrades really grew out of some of my previous writing on socialist thought in hip-hop, which included how the Marxist ideology of his Black Panther roots influenced Tupac as an artist and thinker. With the book, I wanted to investigate the phenomenon of Tupac as a global icon for resistance and revolution. So there was an opportunity there to tell a half-century history of radical left wing activism in the US and beyond, from the Panthers and other groups of their era, through to modern social justice movements such as Black Lives Matter and the activists who embrace Tupac as a righteous figure, and his music as anthems of their cause.
Jess: You recently said that Tupac made “songs you can dance to and songs that made you think,” which reminded me that the first song I ever heard by Tupac was “I get around” and the last songs were on Makaveli, including “White Manz World” and “Blasphemy”. Can you speak to the duality of Tupac’s work - how he was able to draw upon two seemingly contradictory aspects of himself, “outlaw and orator”, to achieve mainstream success?
Dean: Tupac is often criticised as being contradictory. I don’t think those criticisms are unfair – it can be hard to square how the man who wrote such beautiful pro-women anthems could also be capable of making songs loaded with misogyny. But I think it’s undeniable that his malleability has also proved to be an advantage. Songs like “I Get Around” had a mainstream appeal that helped make Tupac a star in his lifetime. Today, the perceived duality of the man helps further his reach. Some fans gravitate towards his words of love and freedom; others are attracted to his image as an antagonist and disrupter. Many, of course, find value in both. I also think some of these contradictions can be explained by Tupac being someone who was driven by pure emotion, unable to filter his speech and unbothered by any inconsistencies. This rawness as an artist, speaker, and thinker must also be part of what draws people to him.
Jess: Even though I understood Tupac as a political rapper, I don’t think I understood how much he resonated with young people all around the world until I read about that in your book. You write that Tupac “appeals to the children of Ireland…He was an icon of righteous defiance, cut from the same cloth, we surmised, as Irish freedom fighters.” Can you explain what you mean by that? What made Tupac’s songs and story so attractive to young people in Ireland, and also globally?
Dean: That Ireland appreciates Tupac has always been observable to me. I actually had to remove some of the stories that show Irish people’s affinity for Tupac from the book so it wouldn’t be overkill; I’m still hearing about new graffiti murals dedicated to him that are popping up around the island. There’s something in the Irish psyche that Tupac appeals to – that he died young, and violently at that, is probably part of the reason. This connection shouldn’t be a surprise – it’s in countries with a history of rebellion and uprising, whether historic or more recent, where Tupac’s image resonates most strongly.