On December 23, 1969, country music legend Merle Haggard walked into Capitol Recording Studios in Los Angeles to record a track that would cement his legacy as a voice of the conservative right. However, the session was not driven by Haggard’s own artistic desire, but rather by intense pressure from his record label to capitalize on the political climate. The song was “The Fightin’ Side of Me,” a jingoistic anthem that would go on to become a Number 1 hit and the title track of a hugely successful live album.
Earlier that year, Haggard had released “Okie from Muskogee,” a song that resonated deeply with the “silent majority” of Americans who felt alienated by the counterculture movement and anti-war protests of the late 1960s. “Okie” dominated the charts for four weeks, and Capitol Records executives were eager to double down on this newfound market. They urged Haggard to record a follow-up that mirrored the patriotic, anti-protest sentiments of his previous hit.
Haggard, however, had a different vision. He wanted to pivot away from the political polarization and release a progressive ballad called “Irma Jackson.” The song told the story of a romance between a white man and a Black woman who could not be together due to societal prejudice. Given that the Supreme Court had only legalized interracial marriage nationwide in 1967 (Loving v. Virginia), the topic was still highly sensitive.
Ken Nelson, the head of Capitol’s country division, reportedly told Haggard that the world “wasn’t ready” for “Irma Jackson.” Fearing that the track would alienate the very audience that had embraced “Okie,” the label pushed Haggard to record “The Fightin’ Side of Me” instead. Reluctantly, Haggard agreed.
The decision proved commercially astute. Released in January 1970, “The Fightin’ Side of Me” quickly climbed to the top of the country charts, staying at Number 1 for three weeks. Its success convinced the label to produce a live album of the same name later that year, which also topped the charts for seven weeks. While the song solidified Haggard’s image as a right-wing icon, it also trapped him in a political box he hadn’t necessarily intended to build. He would eventually release “Irma Jackson” on a 1972 album, but it never received the single treatment he had originally hoped for.
