Malcolm X was born on this day in 1925. I consider Malcolm to be one of the most influential individuals, and the single most powerful public speaker, in American history. Born Malcolm Little, the son of a Baptist minister and outspoken supporter of Marcus Garvey who headed a branch of the Universal Negro Improvement Association, his autobiography would be called “the most important American book” by Carl Sagan. It is the story of transformation: from Malcolm Little to Detroit Red, a street hustler; to “Satan” while in prison; to Minister Malcolm X in the Nation of Islam; and finally, to El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz, in the final chapter of his life.
In his time, Malcolm scared America. He was outspoken in his views on race, religion, politics, and society. He was gifted in his delivery of one-liners, such as, “The man who stands for nothing, falls for everything.” He also gave some of the most explosive speeches, including “Message to the Grass Roots,” and “The Ballet or the Bullet,” both of which were recorded in their entirety, and are still available to students of grass-roots politics.
Though he was viewed by many to be advocating hatred and violence, in years since his murder in 1965, a clearer view has come into focus. Malcolm advanced the ideas of individual worth, community values, grass roots political power, and social justice. Indeed, unlike his counterpart, Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm was never associated with public unrest or violence, except when he was the victim of a brutal, public homicide.
Malcolm's political genius upset people in a manner far beyond mere worries about integrated coffee counters and public toilets. There is a fascinating book, “Malcolm X: The FBI Files,” by Clayborne Carson, that documents some of these concerns. It is known for sure, for example, that the NYCPD's intelligence agency – which is global – had an agent named Gene Roberts following Malcolm in his final weeks. Roberts, in fact, reported a “dry run” on an assassination attempt one week before Malcolm's murder.
More, John Ali – Malcolm's primary rival within the NOI – was an FBI agent. John Ali used his influence to create the split between Malcolm and Elijah Muhammad. He also met with the head of the “death squad” that murdered Malcolm on the eve of the assassination.
Carson's book includes an introduction by Spike Lee that alone is worth the price of the book. Spike Lee made the movie, “Malcolm X,” which remains one of my favorite films. I especially like the ending, where Nelson Mandela stands in front of a classroom of school children, who take turns saying, “I'm Malcolm X.” This is, I am convinced, the truest message that Malcolm delivered, for if we view Malcolm as separate from ourselves and our community, he lived and died in vain.
I'm old and feeble, and those days when I can channel that spirit of individual worth and community values are admittedly fading. Yet, I attempt to do “little things,” recognizing that while most of us will never reach the large stage that Malcolm inhabited, our contributions are nevertheless important. I'd like to discuss a recent two-part example.
My daughters run track in school. A few weekends ago, I helped prepare burgers and hot dogs for the concession stand, during a large meet. The other fellow I was working with seemed pleasant, at least until our conversation went beyond food and sports. Although he and I had just met, he was comfortable in expressing his views on non-white people, especially those who are black. To make a long story somewhat shorter, I said that he seemed rather judgmental, and he said that he enjoyed being judgmental. As the two of us were behind the building alone, I tried talking to him in a pleasant, non-confrontational manner. He told me to quit telling him how to think. I explained that I wasn't concerned with his thinking so much as his speaking this way in public. I noted that twelve years before, in this same community, a “hate gang” had viciously attacked my nephew, for no reason other than his being black. I'm not concerned with what hateful thought those people had; but rather, by their public behavior. I said that he was speaking in the same hateful tongue as they had. Not surprisingly, the rest of the time we were cooking together was quiet.
Last week, I was at another meet, talking with a group of adults. There were a number of students near us. That same fellow walked up to where I was, and began talking to one adult and a few students. One of the students was his son. I had no interest in communicating with him, nor in being rude. However, he began making some ugly, anti-gay “jokes.” I told him that his behavior was in bad taste, and that he needed to stop. He resurrected the “don't tell me how to think” bit. I responded that I was not concerned with the errors in his thinking, but was offended by his hate speech. There was some back-and-forth, during which he became louder and, were it possible, even more obnoxious. He resorted to the “I have a right to voice my opinion” position; I said that it was his hatefulness that is tied to things such as the vicious murder of Matthew Shepard – which, not coincidentally, took place the same summer that my nephew was attacked. A couple of other parents then spoke up, telling him that they agreed with me, and that he was wrong.
The fellow walked away, and it was quiet for a moment. Another guy told me that I had “big balls,” and that he was glad that I had confronted the fellow. A few of us began talking about community, and the need to keep it safe for children and teens, and the importance of setting a proper example for them in situations like this. In truth, I prefer to be able to talk to people one-on-one, in the context that I had talked to this fellow about issues involving race. But I recognize that we are in a national climate of hatred, paranoia, and fear, where ugliness and viciousness is seeking the public stage. We have to stand up to that, as situations arise. We need to advocate for both individual worth and community values. For, as Brother Malcolm told us, if we don't stand for something, we risk falling for everything.
Peace,
H2O Man