In response to the horrific Charleston shooting that left nine members of a historic black church dead, our rattled nation has engaged yet again in a discussion about whether the Confederate flag, particularly the one flying outside the Columbia state capitol, still has any place in modern society. This time, though, change actually seems imminent. After years of defending the Confederate flag’s place in the state, South Carolina governor Nikki Haley has now publicly called for it to be taken down. Mississippi’s Republican speaker of the house, Philip Gunn, has also claimed: “I believe our state’s flag has become a point of offence that needs to be removed.” The influential Southern Baptist Convention released a statement urging its removal from daily life. And yesterday Walmart, the largest retailer in America, announced it would no longer sell any products bearing the controversial civil war emblem.

This cultural shift that finds southern institutions acknowledging that the Confederate flag evokes painful and divisive memories of slavery and rebellion will inevitably manifest itself in country music, a genre often associated with the symbol. For decades, country and southern rock concerts have been among the easiest places to see the Confederate flag still waving, and the banner has remained an occasional lyrical touchstone in mainstream country songs right up until today.

A number of songs in Hank Williams Jr’s repertoire point toward the revival of the antebellum south, including his 1982 track The South’s Gonna Rattle Again, which includes the declaration: “You can bet I’ll brag on that rebel flag.” And Blake Shelton’s 2010 release Kiss my Country Ass opens with the line “Tearin’ down a dirt road/ Rebel flag flying/ Coon dog in the back.” Some songs have lately taken a slightly more critical eye to the Confederate flag (Luke Bryan’s What Country Is says “It ain’t a rebel flag you bought at the mall,” and Brad Paisley’s Camouflage includes, “Well, the stars and bars offend some folks and I guess I see why”), but in doing so they also suggest that, for many modern country fans, the Confederate flag has remained a prevalent part of daily life.

More than in lyrics, though, the Confederate flag has thrived as a fashion statement and staging accessory in the live country experience. It’s become a winking symbol of southern and rural credibility. Redneck Woman singer Gretchen Wilson would flash it on the screen behind her at the peak of her popularity in the mid-2000s. Colt Ford, who wrote Rick Perry’s new hick-hop campaign song, wore Confederate flag boots during at least one show as an opener for Florida Georgia Line in 2013. Trace Adkins donned a shiny Confederate flag earpiece during a live TV performance in 2012.

Much of this points to the popularity of southern rock icons Lynyrd Skynyrd, the purveyors of Sweet Home Alabama, who have famously displayed a gigantic Confederate flag on stage for many years. (Kid Rock, who samples Sweet Home Alabama in his song All Summer Long, does the same.) In a TV interview on CNN in 2012, though, the band claimed they no longer wanted to fly the Confederate flag on stage. “Through the years, people like the KKK and skinheads kinda kidnapped the Dixie or southern flag from its tradition,” guitarist Gary Rossington explained. Fans were not happy. Facing a backlash from their fanbase, Lynyrd Skynyrd reneged on their decision and announced that they would continue to fly the Confederate flag because, “[We] are all extremely proud of our heritage and being from the south.”

The “heritage, not hate” ideology is a thorny but understandable perspective for a generation of artists over a century removed from slavery, but that doesn’t mean that the Confederate flag isn’t still a politically and emotionally charged symbol. Brad Paisley learned that the hard way two years ago – with a song about a Lynyrd Skynyrd shirt no less. Accidental Racist, Paisley’s eyebrow-raising duet with LL Cool J, turned both men into temporary internet punchlines despite the song’s good intentions to convey the complex relationship of white and black southerners and their history. Accidental Racist earned jeers and holier-than-thou thinkpieces from just about every corner of the web for lines like “If you don’t judge my do-rag/I won’t judge your red flag” that appeared to minimize the burden of slavery to a laughable extent. Paisley never performed the song live and quickly moved on to a party-hearty follow-up album and since then, no major country star has attempted to broach the subject of race in song – except perhaps Garth Brooks, with his hokey dud People Loving People.

That said, country music isn’t done wrestling with the Confederate flag just yet. It can’t be, at least not according to its history. The country music community values its roots and has traditionally looked to the past for inspiration – and very often idealised it. Even the wannabe pop stars of today’s mainstream country will namedrop Merle Haggard or Waylon Jennings in between their inane clubbing lyrics, as if doing so is just habitual. In the same way that those artists are cultural pillars in the south, so has been the Confederate flag, and it’s going to have to be addressed or deconstructed.

Frankly, I don’t believe that any major country artists will be photographed proudly waving Confederate flags anytime soon – there does seem to be a decisive shift away from association with Dixie as an innocent tribute to the south. But it does mean that, moving forward, there are thoughtful decisions that must be made by country stars regarding the flag when it comes to their staging, their music videos, their lyrics, and even their boots. Whether they keep the Confederate flag in their song lyrics or up on stage, country stars will have to acknowledge that doing so can no longer be viewed as a coy statement, but instead as a declaration. Wherever they stand on the matter, they’ll need to express their view cogently.