Month: September 2020

The concept espoused by Dr King, namely “love the person who does the evil deed while hating the deed the person does” is firmly rooted in scripture, as Christ teaches his followers to love the sinner but hate the sin. This is the root of many of the churchs teachings on topics ranging from homosexuality to warfare. Regarding comments made in class regarding parallels between todays Black Lives Matter movement and the mid twentieth century civil rights movements, I would disagree with the assertion that Dr. King would approve of todays general culture of unrest. 

The Black Lives Matter platform as formally organized, advocates for the dissolution of the western prescribed nuclear family, this is one of the primary goals of the movement that Dr. King would resist with gusto, in his own words, King espouses the nuclear family as the single most important organization within a society, saying: “The group consisting of mother, father and child is the main educational agency within mankind”

Dr. King would also speak out against the widespread destruction of private property, ironically occurring primarily within minority majority neighborhoods, which at this point has likely exceeded hundreds of billions of dollars.  King, when saying “riots are the language of the unheard” was not justifying or defending violent property destruction, but merely emphasizing he understood the anger behind such behavior. In fact, a quotation from his speech regarding such activities from a Stanford speech captures this balance of rhetoric perfectly: “It is as necessary for me to be as vigorous in condemning the conditions which cause persons to feel that they must engage in riotous activities as it is for me to condemn riots.” This quotation gives much needed context to the quote that BLM activists are currently using to justify their felonious behavior. Half of understanding rhetoric is context, something many people lack in our information overloaded society. To drive this point home, this excerpt from the paragraph preceding his “riots are the language of the unheard” soundbite drastically changes the message of the aforementioned sentence: “Let me say as I’ve always said, and I will always continue to say, that riots are socially destructive and self-defeating. I’m still convinced that nonviolence is the most potent weapon available to oppressed people in their struggle for freedom and justice. I feel that violence will only create more social problems than they will solve.”

Simply put, I find it comical that one would believe that Dr Martin Luther King would support Black Lives Matter. There is simply not enough evidence to convince me that a conservative southern Baptist preacher would advocate for the abolition of the nuclear family and support violent destruction of minority neighborhoods 

Maya Angelou, a famous American poet, once wrote, “See, I don’t personally trust any revolution where love is not allowed.” I wonder why she feels this way, does she think that love within a revolution makes us fight harder or believe more in what waits on the other side of the fight? Her motivations behind the statement aside, one thing I am sure of is that Martin Luther King would agree with her, as he said: “at the center of our movement stood the philosophy of love,” (Page 41) and with love on our sides “the aftermath… is reconciliation and the creation of a beloved community…the end is redemption,” (Page 40).

This past week I’ve been incredibly interested in the theme of love and religion in MLK’s speeches and letters. Whether it be when he delves into agape, one of the Greek words for love that “biblical theologians would say is the love of God working in the minds of men,” (page 40) or his use of parables to highlight the need and justness of the movement, his words have managed to stick with me greatly. When he wrote about loving the person who does the evil deed while hating the deed that person does, I asked myself if that kind of love is visible today. Last week I read a blog post about self-serving people and the opinion that many people that join these movements are self-serving. Yet, MLK sees it from another perspective, he sees the motivations of individuals joining the movements to be agape for fellow man. In his use of the parable of the Good Samaritan, he framed the two sides as follows: “‘If I stop to help this man, what will happen to me?’ [and] ‘If I do not stop to help this man what will happen to him?’” (Page 258). He emphasizes the capacity of the Good Samaritan to “project the ‘I’ into ‘thou,’ and to be concerned about his brother,” (Page 257). Are the widespread movement happening today and the emotions flowing through it so different from the one in 68’ that we now have the perception of self-serving intentions when people outside of the minoritized race join ranks, or perhaps was MLK deluded in his thinking all along? While there may be a lot of love within the communities of people protesting and those fighting back, is there any across the line? And additionally, what would MLK say about our movement today, would he be proud? 

If the movement today, or for lack of better words, the movement of 68’ has turned into now,  lacks the foundation of love that MLK argues is needed to ultimately change humanity and make for the society that we all long for, would he have trust in it, and should we?  

Among Dr. King’s many remarkable attributes and accomplishments, his consistently non-violent attitude will always stand out to me as the most wondrous. As a Christian minister, to preach the importance of nonviolence is practically required, but how often do Christians hold fast to these ideals as Dr. King did? He continued to believe even when the challenge was greatest, and he persevered with his Christian ideals until the bitter end. I think that his own understanding of himself, within his own Christian context, is also critical in understanding how he maintained such an important presence.

In “I See the Promised Land,” Dr. King very clearly draws distinct parallels between himself and the Old Testament figure of Moses. As a Christian minister, he would have been intimately familiar with the story of Moses and the Promised Land of Israel, and he understood that the similarities were uncanny. Dr. King, when faced with such extreme resistance, must have realized that he may not see the day of equal rights himself. Instead, he claims, he will lead others to the treasure that he couldn’t have, and show them the way that was shown to him by God. It is important to note that Dr. King understood this parallel himself, and was so confident in it that he presented it as one of his greatest speeches. I believe that he showed great confidence by embracing that comparison as well as great foresight regarding the struggle for racial equality.

While listening to the presentation on Dr. King this week, I had the thoughts surrounding the his legacy and movement in mind. This is especially true in relation to the 2020 reaction to systematic racism. Ever since the murder of George Floyd, one of the main points that people have brought up is how they think Martin Luther King Jr. would view the current protests and the Black Lives Matter movement. To be honest, I kind of hate these types of questions where people try to assume what historical figures would say about the current situation. The reason I dislike this so much is because I think its a mostly useless exercise because contexts change. I know it’s a common to say that history repeats itself, and while there is some truth to this, I think it is an overused saying that stems from the natural human desire to simplify and categorize. I think it would be better to say that events and patterns emerge in a loose framework of history. Yes, there are many similarities between 1968 and 2020, but there are many details that are different, and these details are incredibly impactful in the way people form their beliefs.

This is why I think it is so hard to answer the question, “What would Dr. King say about 2020?” Would the fact that racism has persisted in strength more than 50 years after his death change his viewpoints? Would the fact that the opposition to the movement lies more in the population that believes systematic racism doesn’t even exist change anything? Would he even be happy with his legacy? The truth is that we don’t know. The people with the best answers to the issues of 2020, are the people of 2020, not the  surmised opinions of past figures.

This week was incredibly formative for me personally. Having done my presentation with Denis and Ryan this week on Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., his life and writings, I was almost overwhelmed by the way in which the class rallied around the topic at hand. One question from a member of the class that particularly excited me was the question of how history will remember people and why they will be remembered in that way. This question specifically mentioned George Wallace who was the former Governor of Alabama who stood in the door of the University of Alabama to prevent the enrollment of two black students.

This for me raised the important question of how figures of our past, present, and future are remembered and what they are remembered for. In the case of George Wallace, his staunch stand in favor of segregation is what he is remembered for. Since his stand in the doorway of the University of Alabama in 1963, he has since become a born again Christian and has renounced his previous views. Yet despite his reversal of beliefs he is still most commonly remembered for his disgusting acts of racism throughout his political career and especially for that famous photo of him in a doorway. I wondered at this point how we as a society remember individuals and whether we find it much easier to remember the terrible things that people have done over their contributions to society or their changes. Certainly, in the case of George Wallace, this is true; I was born in England and when we were taught about the Civil Rights Movement in the United States this photo comes immediately to the front of my mind alongside the March on Washington. I never knew before this week what had become of him (George Wallace) or even what he had done besides that moment of staunch racism. I believe that it is a combination of factors that lead us to remember what we do as a society, it is education, understanding, and also a smattering of our own beliefs on an issue or individual that determine what we remember or what we choose to remember.

I believe it is very difficult for an individual to change, especially when they have taken hardline views on an issue and have even campaigned on those views and for me I believe that alongside not really being educated on George Wallace has placed this mental block in my own mind of what he as an individual is. I certainly want to explore this more and this only serves to ignite the passion of learning more of history in order to best educate myself on every aspect of people, movements and ideas throughout history

The “Us vs Them” mentality has a stranglehold on our society. Humans tend to view the group they belong to, whether ethnically, religiously, socioeconomically, or other, as being the center to which all other groups are measured against, and as a result we seem to constantly be at each other’s throats. We see this trend all the time in politics, war, and even in completely trivial matters such as sports. There is something innate to the human psyche in the desire to see our people “win” and finding joy in seeing those opposite us worse off. All of which makes the mentality of Dr. Martin Luther King – one of love, forgiveness and equality – all the more impressive.

Two sections from our readings really stood out to me in regards to Dr. King’s steadfast commitment to non-violence. In The Power of Nonviolence, Dr. King states “love the person who does the evil deed while hating the deed the person does.” In late 1950s and 1960s America, a period ripe with tension, possessing this mentality of loving those who hate and spite you, while belonging to a group that had suffered under systematic racism for centuries, in a state that set dogs loose on peaceful protestors, and where the governor believed in “segregation now, segregation tomorrow and segregation forever” seems unbelievable. However, Dr. King backed up his words in the most powerful way. After a woman plunged a blade to within an inch of his life, not only did Dr. King forgive and pray for the woman, but he deepened his faith in non-violence.

America in the 1950s and 60s may have been an inch of blade away from being much more violent than it was. Today, it seems like the never-ending Us vs Them mentality keeps us an inch away from conflict at all times. We’ve already seen it in the myriad of senseless killings of unarmed black men and women. We continue to see it in today’s political landscape, which often feels more like a Colosseum fight to the death than a productive discourse. What I find most upsetting is that, like Dr. King says regarding the black population, we can be so much stronger and achieve so much more if we all come together and pool our strengths. The Us vs Them mentality not only places our society on a constant edge, but it prevents us from moving forward. As long as we continue to worry about our differences, we won’t achieve greater good for all.

What struck me most from our discussions this week on the writings of Martin Luther King, Jr., was the arc of King’s views on nonviolence versus violence as means for social change. Many movements of 68 devolved into violence, with historians today questioning whether any of those movements fully achieved their goals as they fell apart due to factional disputes and as violence obscured their messages. King is unique in his strong advocacy for nonviolence during this tumultuous time. He is often heralded as the “good” civil rights leader, with Malcolm X painted as the “bad” leader often left out of the saccharine civil rights narrative many of us learned in elementary school. However, throughout King’s writings, we can see how his understanding of violence became more nuanced as the civil rights movement progressed. To be sure, he never wavered from his call for nonviolence as the method for social change. In fact, in his final speech I See the Promised Land, he argued that “it is no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence in this world; it’s nonviolence or nonexistence.” He recognized the need for an approach rooted in love and peaceful protests, with the end goal of reconciliation between races, and he understood the dangers of using violence, which perhaps would have achieved more immediate change but at the risk of fostering separatist ideology and further alienating those moderates on the fence on the issue.

However, as the civil rights movement continued into the late 60s with only slow progress toward racial equality, King’s approach, while never violent, nonetheless grew more militant as frustrations rose. In Black Power Defined, he called for the use of boycotts, strikes, and the power of the vote to destabilize the racist power structures of the United States. In his Letter from a Birmingham Jail he advocated for nonviolence as a way to elicit the underlying tensions within the racialized American society, and he vented his frustration with the white moderates who condemned the nonviolence as “unwise and untimely.” He argued that Black Americans could not wait any longer, could not be denied the freedom of speech and assembly anymore, because any further repression of their rights to protest nonviolently would beget “ominous expressions of violence.”  King saw the fine line between accepting blows nonviolently and becoming so consumed with frustration that violence would become the language of the movement. But to him the values of nonviolence outweighed the possible gains from violence. This is something that made him unique among the leaders of 68—that in a time of chaos and bloody conflict, he refused to resort to the tactics wielded against him.

So yes, King was nonviolent, but he was not the flat peace-loving figure that has been romanticized in US history textbooks. He called for a radical change in the structure of American institutions, did not shy away from tension, and advocated for the use of ideological, economic, and political power to defend the rights of the Black community. Death threats constantly loomed over him, and his work was cut short by his violent assassination in 1968. Reading his speeches has shattered my sugarcoated image of the civil rights movement, and his ideas have illuminated more clearly the fine line between nonviolent protest and violence that was so often crossed in 68.

One thing that really struck me from class was this statement that was raised about George Wallace, and how he was a born-again Christian and basically flipped his whole belief system and believed that the Civil Rights movement was right. I think I remembered vaguely hearing about George Wallace in middle or high school, and I didn’t know that much about him, but the picture of him standing in the doorway of the school was something I remember seeing. It seems to be that that is how he will be remembered for all of history, right? As this jerk who went against the Civil Rights movement and didn’t want schools to be desegregated and, based off that information, hated blacks? I looked him up to see what would come up under images, and one of the first pictures that came up was the picture of him standing in the doorway, but in the next row down, we see a picture of Wallace, obviously an aged man, sitting next to a smiling African American man. When I clicked on that picture, I found out that that man was Rev. Jesse Jackson who was a “presidential hopeful”. The caption also stated that Wallace had “In the 1980’s renounced his segregationist views, and he won his last term as governor (1983-87) with support from black voters.” (CBS News). Obviously this is important information that those who do not know much about Wallace more than likely are unaware of, but it raises this question of how are we remembered?

Is it more easy to remember people who are on the wrong side of history, and is that the way you will always be remembered, even if your views change? What can be considered the “wrong” side of history? I found the answer to this first question to probably be an easy yes given Wallace’s story, but the second question makes both questions quite difficult to answer. For those who today still believe that blacks and whites should be segregated and the Civil Rights movement was bad for America (I fear there are more people out there who think like this than I would like to know), the Civil Rights movement must have been an awful thing for them, and the leaders like Dr.King and Malcolm X must be seen as horrible and bad people to them. So I wonder for people like this, how do they remember George Wallace? Do they see him as a hero as those who fought for the Civil Rights movement see Dr.King, or are they embarrassed by him because he was on the “right” side of history, but flipped to advocate for the “wrong” side of history? This was another idea that I had about people being considered “sell-outs”, and this word for me has always meant people who are cowardly and sell-out their own beliefs for something they think would be better for them and ultimately make them look better.

I believe the stronger someone’s beliefs are in something and the harder they advocate for those beliefs, the worse they are going to look if they betray those beliefs for the other side, and the more of a “sell-out” they are going to look like. In the book “1968”, I wonder if the people who protested and were strong advocates of the revolution who then went on to become involved in politics maybe even for the opposing side are ever called sell-outs. This idea also made me wonder what would have happened if Dr.King had suddenly flipped his views on the movement? Obviously this seems like an almost impossible thing for him to do, but I’m also sure many believed that of George Wallace, and he did it. Had Dr.King said that yes blacks and whites should be segregated and separate was equal, etc. how would people have reacted and viewed him? I think they would view him as a sell-out to his beliefs because of how hard he advocated for the movement, and this brings us back to the question of the “right” and “wrong” side of history. Are fewer people going to be sell-outs when they are on the “right” side, especially when they know they are going to win? The issue with this is that the people advocating for the “wrong” side will still believe they are on the “right” side at the time, but they may look back later on and realize they were wrong. So, objectively there must be a “right” side, but “right” and “wrong” may get mixed when one looks at history subjectively.

As someone who is a huge fan of the NBA, I’ve been highly in touch with the way the NBA has reacted to and taken a part in the growing support for the Black Lives Matter Movement over this summer. While both the league and players have expressed countless times how disappointed and angry they are with the state of the nation, there seems to be one common “solution” being promoted: Voting. People like Lebron James have been particularly outspoken, creating a voting rights group and notably wearing a shirt reading “Vote or Die” just this week. Perhaps an even larger embodiment of this focus on voting was that a key bargaining piece in the negotiations for the players to end their recent three-day strike, which came in the middle of the playoffs, was to have NBA stadiums converted in polling sites (and it is fair to assume that those stadiums reside in predominantly black urban areas).

At first to me, this focus on voting seemed like a rather passive way to bring about social justice. Why was there not more focus being put on getting into the streets in protest (be it peaceful or not entirely so)? Was this course of action forced on the players by a more conservative league ownership? To answer these questions, I found it very helpful to reflect on Martin Luther King’s 1967 “Black Power Defined”. In that text, King points to the black vote, when fully participated in by the black population, as a form of Black Power. On the surface, voting seems to be a much slower and much more conservative form of Black Power than the breed supported by the likes of Malcolm X and The Panthers. However, while choosing to live out Black Power through voting as MLK advised might not be very appealing to those who want immediate change, I do believe that it is often the wisest choice in the long run. As was discussed in class on Wednesday, it seems that history idolizes and remembers the most uncontroversial parts of the Civil Rights movement. It is the nonviolent protests spearheaded by MLK that are best remembered, not the impassioned calls to fight back against white oppressors made by Malcolm X. As a result, I would argue that MLK set a framework for how we ought to most effectively stand up for social justice, an example that lives on in the countless protests of today. Perhaps, albeit on a much smaller scale, sticking to a focus on voting will make the message of the NBA more powerful in the long run.

Despite seeming more conservative, I believe that voting is not only a true form of power but also one that society will admire. This country has always prided itself upon democracy, placing a great reverence on using the individual vote to produce desired changes in society. If black voters could mobilize en masse to get high voter turnout, I feel that they could exhibit Black Power in a way that could earn the admiration of huge swaths of society, winning over people who previously may not have supported the Black Lives Matter cause.

I was struck during the course of our discussions this week by the notion of what-ifs. Particularly, the frustrating insatiability and subtle optimism of historical what-ifs. It is so tempting to dwell on these hypotheticals when reflecting on the numerous tragic events that seemingly drastically changed the course of history. Particularly relevant to the study of 68 are the killings of Abraham Lincoln, Medgar Evers, Bobby Kennedy, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. and Malcolm X.

On one hand, I find it infuriating to think of how the world might be different, probably better, if evil had not snuffed out the lives of these men. Sometimes I find myself grasping for this idea that our problems would be gone if Lincoln and King had lived longer and been able to finish what they started. And I do think America would probably be a more just and peaceful place if we’d had more time with them. Would it be perfect? I don’t think we can say that with any certainty.

But on the other hand, I sometimes find a strange sense of reassurance in these historical what-ifs. I want to believe that we as a people can still change, even without the great men we’ve lost. I take comfort in the thought that all over the country, young people are reading the works of Lincoln and King, two men gifted with unparalleled eloquence, and becoming inspired to pick up the torch. I want to believe that America is great not only because of a few specific people, but because of the many who will rise up to take us to the promised land in their absence.