Revolt
of the Black Athlete:
The Hidden History of Muhammad Ali
The Hidden History of Muhammad Ali
DAVID
ZIRIN / International Socialist Review i.33, 1jan2004
FILM FOOTAGE of Muhammad Ali is used to sell everything
from soft drinks to cars. The image we are spoon-fed is the improbably
charismatic boxer, dancing in the ring and shouting "I am the
greatest." The present Muhammad Ali is also a very public figure, despite
his near total inability to move or speak. His voice has been silenced by both
his years of boxing and Parkinson's disease. This Ali has been embraced by the
establishment as a walking saint. In 1996, Ali was sent with his trembling
hands to light the Olympic Torch in Atlanta. In 2002, he "agreed to star
in a Hollywood-produced advertising campaign, designed to explain America and
the war in Afghanistan to the Muslim world."'
Ali has been absorbed by the
establishment as a legend—a harmless icon. There is barely a trace left of the
controversial truth: There has never been an athlete more reviled by the
main-stream press, more persecuted by the U.S. government or more defiantly
beloved throughout the world than Muhammad Ali. There is now barely a mention
of this Ali, who was the catalyst for bringing the issues of racism and war
into professional sports.
The mere thought of athletes using their insanely
exalted and hyper-commercialized plat-form to take stands against injustice is
now al-most unthinkable. Such actions would break the golden rule of big-time
sports—"jocks" are not to be political, except when it
comes to saluting the flag, supporting the troops and selling war. That is why,
when Toni Smith, the basketball captain at little Division III Manhattanville
College, turned her back on the flag this past year, the attack was rabid. Wake
Forest basketball All-American Josh Howard said about the U.S. war on Iraq in
March 2003, "it's all over oil...that's how I feel."' Howard was
not only derided pub-licly, but NBA draft reports stated, "Antiwar
re-marks reflect rumored erratic behavior."
The hidden history of Muhammad Ali and the revolt of
the Black athlete in the 1960s is a living history. By reclaiming it from the
powers that be, we can understand more than the struggles of the 1960s. We can
see how struggle can shape every aspect of life under capitalism—even sports.
Boxing
No sport has chewed athletes tip and spit them out
especially Black athletes—quite like boxing. For the very few who "make
it," it is never the sport of choice. Boxing is for the poor, for
people born at the absolute margins of society. The first boxers in the U.S.
were slaves. Southern plantation owners amused themselves by putting together
the strongest slaves and having them fight it out while wearing iron collars.
But after the abolition of slavery, boxing was unique
among sports because, unlike every other major sport, it was desegregated as
early as the turn of the last century. This was not be-cause the promoters who
ran boxing were in any
way progressive. Quite the contrary. The brutality of
the sport itself gave promoters a stage to make a buck off of the ram-pant
racism in American society. Unwittingly, these early fight financiers opened up
space where the white supremacist ideas of society could be challenged.
This was the era of deeply racist pseudo-science. The
attitude was not only that Blacks were mentally inferior but also physically
inferior to whites. Blacks were cast as too lazy and too undisciplined ever to
be taken seriously as athletes.
When Jack Johnson became the first Black heavyweight
boxing champion in 1908, his victory created a serious crisis. The media
whipped up a frenzy around the need for a "A Great White Hope" to
restore order to the world. Former champion Jim Jeffries came out of retirement
and said, "I am going into this fight for the sole purpose of proving that
a white man is better than a Negro."3
At the fight, which took place in 1910, the ringside
band played, "All coons look alike to me," and promoters
led the all-white crowd in the chant "Kill the nigger."4 But
Johnson was faster, stronger and smarter than Jeffries. He knocked Jeffries out
with ease. After Johnson's victory, there were race riots around the country—in
Ilinois, Missouri, New York, Ohio, Pennsylvania, Colorado, Texas and
Washington, D.C. Most of the riots consisted of white lynch mobs attacking
Blacks, and Blacks fighting back. This reaction to a boxing match was one of
the most widespread racial uprisings in the U.S. until the 1968 assassination
of civil rights leader Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Right-wing religious groups
immediately organized to ban boxing. Congress actually passed a law banning
boxing films.
Even some Black leaders, such as Booker T. Washington,
pushed Johnson to condemn African Americans for rioting, and to toe the line.
But Johnson remained defiant and faced harassment and persecution for most of
his life. He was forced into exile in 1913 on the trumped-up charge of
transporting a white women across state lines for prostitution.
The backlash against Johnson meant that it would be 20
years before the rise of another Black heavyweight champ—Joe Louis, "the
Brown Bomber." Louis was quiet where Johnson was defiant. He was
handled very carefully by a management team that had a set of rules Louis had
to follow including, "never be photographed with a white woman, never
go to a club by yourself and never speak unless spoken to."' But he was
devastating in the ring, scoring 69 victories in 72 professional fights—55 of
them knockouts. Despite having an image where his handlers had him scrape and
shuffle, Joe Louis—and his dominance in the ring—represented much more to poor
Blacks, and also to the radicalizing working class in the 1930s.
This played out most famously during Louis's two fights
against German boxer Max Schmeling in 1936 and 1938. Schmeling was heavily
promoted by German Nazi leader Adolph Hitler as proof of"Aryan greatness." In
the first bout, Schmeling knocked out Louis. Not only did Hitler and Nazi
propagandist Joseph Goebbels have a field day, but the south-ern press in the
United States laughed it up. One column in the New Orleans Picayune wrote, "I
guess this proves who re-ally is the master race."'
The Louis-Schmeling rematch in 1938 was a political
brouhaha—a physical referendum on Hitler, the Jim Crow South and anti-racism.
The U.S. Communist Party organized radio listenings of the fight from Harlem to
Birmingham that became mass meetings. Hitler closed down movie houses sopeople
would be compelled to listen. Louis devastated Schmeling in one round. In a
notorious move, Hitler quickly cut the radio power in all of Germany when it
was clear the knockout was coming.
"The Brown Bomber" held the heavyweight
title for 12 years, the longest reign in history. He beat all comers, the
overwhelming majority of them white—successfully defending his heavyweight
title a record 25 times. As poet Maya Angelou wrote about Louis, "the
one invincible Negro, the one who stood up to the white man and beat him down
with his fists. He in a sense carried so many of our hopes, and maybe even our
dreams of vengeance."' Thirty years after the fight, Martin Luther King
Jr. wrote in Why We Can't Wait,
More than 25 years ago, one of the southern states
adopted a new method of capital punishment. Poison gas supplanted the gallows.
In its earliest stages a microphone was placed inside the sealed death chamber
so that scientific observers might hear the words of the dying prisoner to
judge how the victim reacted in this novel situation. The first victim was a
young Negro. As the pellet dropped into the container, and the gas
curled upward, through the microphone came these words."Save me Joe Louis.
Save me Joe Louis. Save me Joe Louis."'
In a society so violently racist, boxing became an
outlet for people's anger—a morality play about the thwarted ability, the
unrecognized talents and the relentless fighting spirit that shaped the Black
experience in the U.S.
"King of the world"
Muhammad Ali's identity was forged in the 1950s and
1960s, as the Black freedom struggle heated up and boiled over. He was born
Cassius Clay in Louisville, Kentucky in 1942. His father, a frustrated artist,
made his living as a house painter. His mother was a domestic worker. The
Louisville of Ali's youth was a segregated horse-breeding community where being
Black meant being seen as part of a servant class.
But young Clay could box and he could always talk. His
mouth was like no fighter or athlete or any public Black figure anyone had ever
heard. Joe Louis used to say, "My manager does my talking for me. I
do my talking in the ring." Clay talked, in-side the ring and out.
The press called him the Louisville Lip, Cash the Brash, Mighty Mouth and
Gaseous Cassius.'
He used to say he talked because his hero was a
pro-wrestler named Gorgeous George. But in an unguarded moment he said, "Where
do you think I'd be next week if I didn't know how to shout and holler? I'd
probably be down in my hometown washing windows and saying yassuh and nossuh
and knowing my place."'"
But Ali was more than talk. His boxing skills won him
the gold medal in the 1960 Olympics at age 18. When he came back from the
Olympics—and this is the first step in his political arc—he held a press
conference at the airport, his gold medal swinging from his neck, and said:
To make America the greatest is my goal So I beat the
Russian and I beat the Pole And for the USA won the medal of Gold. The Greeks
said you're better than the Cassius of Old."
Clay loved his gold medal. Fellow Olympian Wilma
Rudolph said, "He slept with it, he went to the cafeteria with it. He
never took it off."12 The week after returning home from the
Olympics, Clay went to eat a cheeseburger with his medal swinging around his
neck in a Louisville restaurant—and was denied service. He threw his medal in
the Ohio River.
The young Clay then started actively looking for
political answers and began finding them when he heard Malcolm X speak at a
meeting of the Nation of Islam (NOI). He heard Malcolm say, "You
might see these Negroes who believe in nonviolence and mistake us for one of
them and put your hands on us thinking that we are going to turn the other
cheek—and we'll put you to death just like that."13
The young fighter and Malcolm X became both political
allies and fast friends. Malcolm stayed with Clay as he trained for his fight
against the "Big Ugly Bear," the champion Sonny Liston.
With Malcolm around, rumors flew through the sports pages that Clay was going
to join the NOI, and the press hounded him wanting to know. At one point he
said, "I might if you keep asking me."
When everyone was predicting an easy knockout for
Lis-ton, Malcolm said,
Clay will win. He is the finest Negro athlete I have
ever known and he will mean more to his people than Jackie Robinson. Robinson
is an establishment hero. Clay will be our hero.... Not many people know the
quality of mind he has in there. One forgets that although the clown never
imitates a wise man, a wise man can imitate the clown*
Although the verdict was out on whether he was wise or
a clown, no one gave him a chance against Liston, a hulking ex-con who used to
work for the Mob breaking legs on picket lines. Ali—quicker, stronger and
bolder than anyone knew—shocked the world and beat Liston. He then said
famously, "I'm king of the world!"
When Ali said he was the greatest, it wasn't far from
the truth. His trainer Angelo Dundee once said with a smile, "He
destroyed a generation of fighters by boxing with his hands down. Everyone else
who did that got creamed but Ali was so quick he could get away with it."15 Ali
set a new standard for ring speed. He used to say "I'm so fast, I can
turn off the bed-room lights and get in bed before it gets dark."16 As
writer Gary Kamiya put it,
No one had ever seen anyone that big move that fast; no
one had ever seen anyone that graceful hurt other people so badly. Fighting Ali
was like being forced to glide across the floor with Gene Kelly in a murderous
duet; a single deviation from the beat, a hundredth of a second's pause coming
out of a liquid twirl, and a baseball bat would explode against your
head."
In his professional career he won 56 of 61 fights, with
37 knockouts.
The day after he beat Liston, Clay announced publicly
that he was a member of the NOI. There are no words for the firestorm this
caused. Whatever disagreements one may have with the Nation of Islam, the fact
is that the heavyweight champion of the world was joining the organization of
Malcolm X. The champ was with a group that called white people devils and stood
unapologetically for self defense and racial separation. Not surprisingly, the
men of the conservative, mobbed-up, corrupt fight world lost their minds.
Ali was attacked not only by the sports world, but also
by the respectable wing of the civil rights movement. Roy Wilkins, of the older
civil rights generation said, "Cassius Clay may as well be an
honorary member of the white citizen councils."18 Jimmy Cannon, the
most famous sportswriter in America at the time, wrote: "The fight
racket since its rotten beginnings has been the red light district of sports.
But this is the first time it has been turned into an instrument of hate."19
Ali's response at this point was very defensive. He
repeatedly said that his wasn't a political, but a purely religious conversion.
His defense reflected the conservative politics of the NOI. Ali said, "I'm
not going to get killed trying to force myself on people who don't want me.
Integration is wrong. White people don't want it, the Muslims don't want it. So
what's wrong with the Muslims? I've never been in jail. I've never been in
court. I don't join integration marches and I never hold a sign."20
But much like Malcolm X, who at the time was
engineering a political break from the Nation, Clay—much to the anger of Elijah
Muhammad—found it impossible to explain his religious world view without
speaking to the mass Black freedom struggle happening outside the boxing ring. He
was his own worst enemy—claiming that his was a religious trans-formation and
had nothing to do with politics, but then in the next breath saying,
I ain't no Christian. I can't be when I see all the
colored people fighting for forced integration get blown up. They get hit by
the stones and chewed by dogs and then these crackers blow up a Negro
Church.... People are always telling me what a good example I would be if I
just wasn't Muslim. I've heard over and over why couldn't I just be more like
Joe Louis and Sugar Ray. Well they are gone and the Black man's condition is
just the same ain't it? We're still catching hell.21
If the establishment press was outraged, a new
generation of activists was electrified. As civil rights leader Julian Bond
reminisced,
I remember when Ali joined the Nation. The act of
joining was not something many of us particularly liked. But the notion that he
would do it, that he'd jump out there, join this group that was so despised by
mainstream America and be proud of it, sent a little thrill through you.... He
was able to tell white folks for us to go to hell; that I'm going to do it my
way.22
At this time, he was known briefly as Cassius X, but
Elijah Muhammad gave Clay the name Muhammad Ali—a tremendous honor and a way to
ensure that the young Ali would side with Elijah Muhammad in his split with
Malcolm X. Ali proceeded to commit what he would later describe as his greatest
mistake—turning his back on Malcolm. But the internal politics of the Nation
were not what the ruling class and the media noticed. To them the name
change—something that had never occurred before in sports—was another slap in
the face.
Almost overnight, whether you called him Ali or Clay
indicated where an individual stood on civil rights, Black Power and eventually
the war in Vietnam. The New York Times insisted on calling him Clay
as an editorial policy for years thereafter.
This all took place against the backdrop of a Black
freedom struggle rolling from the South to the North. During the summer of
1964, there were 1,000 arrests of civil rights activists, 30 buildings bombed
and 36 churches burned by the Ku Klux Klan and their sympathizers. In 1964, the
first of the urban uprisings and riots in the northern ghettoes took place.
The politics of Black Power was starting to emerge and
Muhammad Ali was a critical symbol in this transformation. As news anchor
Bryant Gumbel said, "One of the reasons the civil rights movement
went forward was that Black people were able to overcome their fear. And I
honestly believe that for many Black Americans, that came from watching
Muhammad Ali. He simply refused to be afraid. And being that way, he gave other
people courage."23
A concrete sign of Ali's early influence was seen in
1965 when Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) volunteers in
Lowndes County, Alabama launched an independent political party. Their new
group was the first to use the symbol of a black panther. Their bumper stickers
and T-shirts were of a black silhouette of a panther and their slogan was
straight from the champ:"We Are the Greatest."24
Every fight after his name change—like
Louis/Schmeling—became incredible morality plays of the Black revolution versus
the people who opposed it. Floyd Patterson, a Black ex-champion wrapped tightly
in the American flag, said of his fight with Ali, "This fight is a
crusade to reclaim the title from the Black Muslims. As a Catholic I am
fighting Clay as a patriotic duty. I am going to return the crown to America." In
the fight itself, Ali brutalized Patterson for nine rounds, dragging it out
yelling, "Come on America! Come on white America.... What's my name?
Is my name Clay? What's my name fool?"25
Future Black Panther Party leader Eldridge Cleaver
wrote in his 1968
autobiography Soul on Ice,"If the Bay of Pigs can
be seen as a straight right hand to the psychological jaw of white America then
[Ali/Patterson] was the perfect left hook to the gut."26
Vietnam
In early 1966, the army came calling for Ali and he was
classified 1-A—to be drafted. He heard this news surrounded by reporters and he
blurted out one of the most famous phrases of the decade, "Man, I ain't
got no quarrel with them Vietcong."27 This was an astounding
statement. There was little opposition to the war at the time. The antiwar
movement was in its infancy and most of the country still stood behind it.
Life magazine's cover read, "Vietnam the
War is Worth Winning." The song, "Ballad of the Green
Berets" was climbing the charts. And then there was Ali. As long-time
peace activist Daniel Berrigan said, "It was a major boost to an
antiwar movement that was very white. He was not an academic, or a bohemian or
a clergyman. He couldn't be dismissed as cowardly."28
The reaction was immediate, hostile, ferocious and at
times amusingly hysterical. Jimmy Cannon wrote,
He fits in with the famous singers no one can hear and
the punks riding motorcycles and Batman and the boys with their long dirty hair
and the girls with the unwashed look and the college kids dancing naked at
secret proms and the revolt of students who get a check from Dad, and the
painters who copy the labels off soup cans and surf bums who refuse to work and
the whole pampered cult of the bored young.29
Jack Olsen wrote years later in Sports
Illustrated, "The noise became a din, the drumbeats of a holy war. TV
and radio commentators, little old ladies...bookmakers, and parish priests,
armchair strategists at the Pentagon and politicians all over the place joined
in a crescendo of get Cassius get Cassius get Cassius."30
Ali was given every opportunity to recant, to
apologize, to sign up on some cushy USO gig boxing for the troops and the
cameras, to go back to making money. But he refused. His refusal was gargantuan
because of what was bubbling over in U.S. society. You had the Black revolution
over here and the draft resistance and antiwar struggle over there. And the
heavyweight champ with one foot planted in both.
As poet Sonia Sanchez remembered:
It's hard now to relay the emotion of that time. This
was still a time when hardly any well-known people were resisting the draft. It
was a war that was disproportionately killing young Black brothers and here was
this beautiful, funny poetical young man standing up and saying no! Imagine it
for a moment! The heavyweight champion, a magical man, taking his fight out of
the ring and into the arena of politics and standing firm. The message was
sent!31
An incredible groundswell of support built up for Ali.
That is why, despite the harassment and the media attacks and the taps on his
phones, he stood firm. At one press conference later that year, he was expected
to apologize. He was always rumored to go back on the war statement. He instead
got up and said, "Keep asking me, no matter how long, On the war in
Vietnam, I sing this song, I ain't got no quarrel with the Vietcong' "32
By now it was 1967 and in another huge step for the
anti-war movement, Martin Luther King, Jr. came out against the war. In a press
conference where King first proclaimed his op-position he said, "Like
Muhammad All puts it, we are all—Black and Brown and poor—victims of the same
system of oppression." 33
Ali and King, to the anger of the NOI, struck up a
private friendship that we know about thanks to the good people at the FBI.
Here is one short wire-tapped transcript with Martin Luther King, Jr. in which
Muhammad Ali is referred to derisively as "C."
MLK spoke to C, they exchanged greetings. C invited MLK
to be his guest at the next championship fight. MLK said he would like to
attend. C said he is keeping up with MLK and MLK is his brother and he's with
him 100 percent but can't take any chances, and that MLK should take care of
himself and should "watch out for them whities."34
The only time these private friends came together in
public was later that year, when All joined King in Louisville, where a bitter
and violent struggle was being waged for fair housing. Ali spoke to the protesters
saying,
In your struggle for freedom, justice and equality I am
with you. I came to Louisville because I could not remain silent while my own
people, many I grew up with, many I went too school with, many my blood
relatives, were being beaten, stomped and kicked in the streets simply because
they want freedom, and justice and equality in housing.35
Later that day, he cemented his position as a lightning
rod between the freedom struggle and the antiwar struggle when a reporter kept
dogging him about the war, until finally he turned around, cameras whirring and
said,
Why should they ask me to put on a uniform and go
10,000 miles from home and drop bombs and bullets on Brown people in Vietnam
while so-called Negro people in Louisville are treated like dogs and denied simple
human rights? No I'm not going 10,000 miles from home to help murder and burn
an-other poor nation simply to continue the domination of white slave masters
of the darker people the world over. This is the day when such evils must come
to an end. I have been warned that to take such a stand would cost me millions
of dollars. But I have said it once and I will say it again. The real enemy of
my people is here. I will not disgrace my religion, my people or myself by
becoming a tool to enslave those who are fighting for their own justice,
freedom and equality.... If I thought the war was going to bring freedom and
equality to 22 million of my people they wouldn't have to draft me, I'd join
tomorrow. I have nothing to lose by standing up for my beliefs. So I'll go to
jail, so what? We've been in jail for 400 years.36
Said Julian Bond, "When Ali refused to take
that symbolic step forward everyone knew about it moments later. You could hear
people talking about it on street corners. It was on every-body's lips. People
who had never thought about the war—Black and white—began to think it through
because of Ali."37
Ali's refusal to fight in Vietnam was front-page news
all over the world. In Guyana there was a picket of support in front of the
U.S. embassy. In Karachi, young Pakistanis fasted. And there was a mass
demonstration in Cairo. On June 19, 1967, Ali was prosecuted by an all-white
jury in Houston. The typical sentence was 18 months in these cases. All got
five years and the confiscation of his passport. He immediately appealed. All,
undefeated and untouched, was stripped of his title for refusing to serve in
the military, beginning a three-and-a-half-year exile from the ring.
Support came from unlikely sources. Floyd Patterson,
who was himself being shaped by the movements around him said, "What
bothers me is Clay is being made to pay too stiff a penalty for doing what is
right. The prize fighter in America is not supposed to shoot off of his mouth
about politics, particularly if his views oppose the government's and might
influence many among the working class that follows boxing. "38
One group that deeply understood Ali's significance was
the U.S. Congress. The day of his conviction they voted 337-29 to extend the
draft four more years. They also voted 385-19 to make it a federal crime to
desecrate the flag. At this time, 1,000 Vietnamese noncombatants were being
killed each week by U.S. forces. One hundred soldiers were dying every day, the
war cost $2 billion a month and the movement against the war was growing. Ali's
defiance is far more than a footnote in the movement. As one observer said, "He
made dissent visible, audible, attractive and fearless."39
By 1968, Ali was out on bail—abandoned by NOI and
hangers-on and stripped of his title. But he was never more active because
there was a young generation of Blacks and whites that wanted to hear what he
had to say. And Ali obliged. In 1968, he spoke at 200 campuses. Here is one
speech, brimming with confidence—as if the U.S. state were no more menacing than
Floyd Patterson:
I'm expected to go overseas to help free people in
South Vietnam and at the same time my people here are being brutalized, hell
no! I would like to say to those of you who think I have lost so much, I have
gained everything. I have peace of heart; I have a clear, free conscience. And
I am proud. I wake up happy, I go to bed happy, and if I go to jail I'll go to
jail happy.40
The Black athlete revolt comes to the Olympics
The Black revolt that All shaped and that shaped Ali
thundered into the world of Olympic sports. In the Fall of 1967 amateur Black
athletes formed the Olympic Project for Human Rights (OPHR) to organize a
boycott of the 1968 Olympic games in Mexico City. OPHR and its lead organizer
Dr. Harry Edwards were influenced by the Black Power movement of the time.
Edwards, author of the important book, The Revolt of the Black Athlete,41 said
years later:
It was inevitable that this revolt of the Black athlete
should develop. With struggles being waged by Black people in the areas of
education, housing employment and many others, it was only a matter of time
before Afro-American athletes shed their fantasies and delusions and asserted
their manhood and faced the facts of their existence.42
The Project's goal was to expose how the U.S. used
Black athletes to project a lie both at home and internationally. The group's
founding statement declared,
We must no longer allow this country to use a few
so-called Negroes to point out to the world how much progress she has made in
solving her racial problems when the oppression of Afro-Americans is greater
than it ever was. We must no longer allow the sports world to pat itself on the
back as a citadel of racial justice when the racial injustices of the sports
world are infamously legendary.... [A]ny Black person who allows him-self to be
used in the above manner is a traitor because he al-lows racist whites the
luxury of resting assured that those Black people in the ghettos are there
because that is where they want to be. So we ask why should we run in Mexico
only to crawl home?43
OPHR had three central demands: 1) Restore Muhammad Ali's
title. By expressing solidarity with Ali, the Olympic athletes were also
expressing their opposition to the war; 2) Remove Avery Brundage as head of the
United States Olympic Committee. Brundage was a notorious white supremacist who
is best remembered today for sealing the deal on Hitler hosting the 1936
Olympics in Berlin; and 3) Disinvite South Africa and Rhodesia. This was a
conscious effort to express internationalism with the Black liberation
struggles occurring in these two apartheid states.44
The International Olympic Committee buckled on the
third demand, banning Rhodesia (now Zimbabwe) and South Africa. Al-though this
took the wind out of the sails of a broader boycott of the games, many athletes
were still determined to make a stand. The days and months leading up to the
1968 Olympics in Mexico City were electric with struggle. The weakness of U.S.
imperialism was on display for all the world to see when the Vietnamese
National Liberation Front launched the Tet Offensive in late January, and the
war turned decisively against the United States. The assassination of civil
rights leader Martin Luther King, Jr. in April sparked revolts in cities across
the country. Chapters of the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense were
springing up in dozens of cities. In Prague, protesting Czech students
challenged Russian tanks in the streets. And in France, millions of workers
took part in one of the largest general strikes in world history.
On October 2, 10 days before the Olympic games opened,
Mexican security forces massacred hundreds of students in Mexico City who were
occupying the National University.
All this set the stage for the rebellion that Black
athletes were organizing inside the Olympic stadium. On the second day of the
games, Tommie Smith and John Carlos took their stand. First, Smith set a world
record for his 200-meter run.
Then he took out the gloves. When Smith took the stage
to accept the gold medal, he took out a pair of black gloves, handing one over
to Carlos, the third-place winner. When the silver medalist, a runner from
Australia named Peter Norman, saw what was happening, he ran into the stands to
grab an OPHR patch off a supporters' chest to show his solidarity on the
medal stand.44
When the U.S. flag began rising up the flagpole and the
anthem played, the two men bowed their heads and raised their fists in a Black
Power salute. But there was more than just the gloves. Smith and Carlos also
wore no shoes to protest Black poverty and beads to protest lynching.
Within hours, Smith and Carlos were expelled from the
Olympic Village and stripped of their medals. Avery Brundage, head of the U.S.
Olympic Committee, justified this by saying, "They violated one of the
basic principles of the Olympic games: that politics play no part whatsoever in
them."
The Los Angeles Times accused Smith and
Carlos of a "Nazi-like salute." Time magazine ran a
picture of the Olympic logo, but instead of the motto "Faster,
Higher, Stronger," they replaced it with "Angrier, Nastier,
Uglier."46
But if Smith and Carlos were at-tacked from all
corners, they also received support from unlikely sources. The Olympic crew
team, all-white and entirely from Harvard, issued this statement:
We—as individuals—have been concerned about the place
of the Black man in American society in their struggle for equal rights. As
members of the U.S. Olympic team, each of us has come to feel a moral
commitment to support our Black teammates in their efforts to dramatize the
injustices and inequities which permeate out society.47
The actions of Smith and Carlos were a terrific slap in
the face to the hypocrisy at the heart of the Olympics. Unfortunately, OPHR
members missed a huge opportunity by leaving women virtually shut out from the
movement. Most OPHR calls centered on Blacks re-claiming their manhood, as if
African American women weren't victims of racism or couldn't be a strong voice
against it. Despite this, women athletes voiced their solidarity after the
fact. The anchor of the women's gold-medal-winning 4 by 100 relay team, Wyomia
Tyus said, "I'd like to say that we dedicate our relay win to John
Carlos and Tommie Smith."48
Down goes Ali
Ali, who appealed his sentence, was aided by the tide
against the war. A divided Supreme Court overturned his sentence in 1970, as
the Justices said it would "Give Black people a lift," and Ali was
victorious. He returned to the ring in 1971 a slower fighter, but as
intelligent as any fighter who ever laced up
his gloves. Ali lost to Joe Frazier in 1971 in an
attempt to win back his title. The 15-round fight was so brutal it sent both
fighters to the hospital. Then, in 1973, Ali lost to and then beat Ken Norton.
Then came the "Rumble in the Jungle" in Zaire against
George Foreman. In many ways it revealed the limits and ambiguity of Black
Power—and the decline of both Ali's militancy and the movement it inspired and
was inspired by.49
Dictator Mobutu Sese Seko—a darling of the U.S. who had
killed Ali's old friend Patrice Lumumba to seize power and then looted a
quarter of the country's wealth—secured the fight arm in arm with a social
parasite named Don King. Together they dressed up the fight in the colors of
Black nationalism. Squatter camps along the road leading from the airport were
obscured by huge billboards that said: "Zaire: Where Black Power is a
reality."50 In the lead up to the fight, Mobutu rounded up scores of
alleged criminals and had 100 of them executed in order to en-sure calm for the
foreign press and dignitaries.
But if everything surrounding the fight was horrid, the
fight itself was incredible. The African crowd—who like Blacks in the U.S. saw
Ali as their hero—chanted "Ali, Bomaye!" (Ali, Kill him!).
But Foreman, strong and in his prime, was expected to trounce Mi. Instead, Ali
beat Foreman in one of the greatest upsets in history. He spent the first
several rounds allowing Foreman to exhaust himself trying to pummel Ali, who in
the weeks leading up the fight had practiced this"rope-a-dope" strategy,
defending his head and body while keeping his back against the ropes. After
Foreman had spent himself, Ali suddenly exploded from the ropes, dispatching
Foreman in a series of lightning blows in the eighth round. It was one of the
most strategically brilliant boxing matches ever fought.
Ali's fighting career continued as the Black Power
movement and the freedom struggle declined. The American ruling class smashed a
section of the movement, and accommodated others. In some respects, Ali
represented both sides of that. He was both smashed and accommodated. Ali came
back to the ring a much slower fighter but he found that he could take a punch.
And he took them until he was physically destroyed.
Though slowed, Ali was much loved. Louisville named a
thoroughfare after him. Presidents invited him to the White House, and, as
mentioned, he today shows up to light the Olympic torch and shill for war. Jim
Brown, one athlete who has never stopped organizing, said, "The Ali
that America ended up loving was not the Ali I loved the most. The warrior I
loved was gone."51 But if Ali's present has been absorbed by the
mainstream, his past is written and it belongs to us. When activists today
strive to connect the war at home with the war abroad, we have the Ali of the
1960s as part of our tradition. As Tommie Smith said recently, "It's
not something I can lay on my shelf and forget about. My heart and soul are
still on that team, and I still believe in everything we were trying to fight
for in 1968 has not been resolved and will be part of our future."52
Smith is right: Ali's stirring resistance to racism and
war belongs not only to the 1960s, but is part of the common future of
humanity.
1 "W. D. Mohammed tells Muslim youth to spread
truth about Islam," available online at www.islamonline.net/English/News/2001-12/25/article6.shtml.
2 "Howard opposes war in Iraq," Winston-Salem
Journal, Wednesday, March 19, 2003.
3 David Remnick, King of the World (New York:
Vintage Books, 1998), p. 223.
4 Ibid, p. 224.
5 Ibid.
6 Ibid. p. 225.
7 [bid, p. 227.
8 Ibid.
9 Thomas Hauser, Muhammad Ali in Perspective (New
York: HarperCollins, 1996), p. 6.
10 Remnick, p. 124.
11 Ibid, p. 105.
12 Ibid, p. 104.
13 Ibid, p. 129.
14 Mike Marqusee, Redemption Song: Muhammad Ali
and the Spirit of the Sixties(New York: Verso 1999), p. 75.
15 Hauser, p. 19.
16 Dick Schaap, "Billy, the Greatest and Me,"
available online athttp://espn.go.com/page2/s/schaap/010227.html.
17 Gary Kamiya, "The myth of Muhammad," Salon, October
1996. Available athttp://archive.salon.com/oct96/book961104.html.
18 Ibid, p. 9.
19 Ibid.
20 Ibid, p. 81.
21 Ibid, p. 82.
22 Hauser, p. 20.
23 Ibid, p. 16.
24 Marqusee, p. 193.
25 Patterson and All quoted in Remnick, p. 276.
26 Marqusee, p. 162.
27 Ibid. The quote often attributed to Ali, "No
Viet Cong ever called me nigger," is disputed in Hauser and does not
appear in Marqusee.
28 Hauser, p. 20.
29 Marqusee, p. 179.
30 Remnick, p. 83.
31 Ibid, p. 290.
32 Marqusee, p. 179.
33 Ibid, p. 213.
34 Remnick, p. 211.
35 Marqusee, p. 213.
36 Ibid, p. 214.
37 Hauser, p. 22.
38 Marqusee, p. 180.
39 Ibid, p. 230.
40 Ibid, p. 232.
41 Harry Edwards, The Revolt of the Black Athlete (New
York: Free Press, 1969).
42 David K. Wiggins and Patrick B. Miller, The
Unlevel Playing Field (Champaign, Illinois: University of Illinois Press,
2003), p. 286.
43 Amy Bass, Not the Triumph but the Struggle (Minneapolis:
University of Minnesota Press, 2002), p. 229
44 Ibid, p. 132.
45 Ibid, p. 240.
46 Ibid, p. 236.
47 Ibid, p. 229.
48 Ibid, p. 220.
49 "The Black Power slogan became the
springboard for both a move to the left and a sharp move to the right. Four
interconnected interpretations emerged: Black Power as Black capitalism, Black
Power as Black electoral power, Black Power as cultural nationalism and Black
Power as radical Black nationalism." See Ahmed Shawki, "Black
liberation and socialism in the U.S.," International Socialism
Journal 47, p. 91. Even the Republican Parry got into the act, organizing
a Black Power conference in 1967, and defining Black Power as an effort by
Blacks to get a greater share of the capitalist pie.
50 Marqusee, p. 264.
51 Hauser, p. 77.
52 "Outside the lines, personal protest," ESPN,
March 2, 2003. Transcript of the show available online athttp://espn.go.com/page2/tvlistings/show153transcript.html.
David Zirin is the news editor of the Prince
George's Post, for which he writes the weekly column, Edge of Sports. His
writing has also appeared in www.basketball.com, www football.com, Z
Magazine and Counterpunch. He can be reached at editor@pgpost.com
International Socialist Review (ISR)
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