No struggle, no power
23rd January 2012 · 0 Comments
By Edmund W. Lewis
Editor
Old pirates, yes they rob I/Sold I to the merchant ships. Minutes after they took I from the bottomless pit./ But my hand was made strong by the hand of the Almighty/We forward in this generation triumphantly./Won’t you help to sing these songs of freedom/’Cause all I ever had, redemption song./Emancipate yourselves from mental slavery/None but ourselves can free our minds/Have no fear of atomic energy/’Cause none of them can stop the time./How long shall they kill our prophets while we stand aside and look?/Some say it’s just a part of it/We’ve got to fulfill the Book.
-Bob Marley, “Redemption Song”
Whenever I hear the late, great Bob Marley sing that very moving song about the struggle of Afrikan people everywhere for freedom and justice, I am both inspired and disturbed. On one hand, the words are uplifting, revolutionary and bursting with hope. Even though Bob Marley, like the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., has moved on to the village of the ancestors, his words are as alive today as when he first recorded the song decades ago and come to me like an unexpected cool breeze on a summer evening, giving me strength and courage to continue to fight the good fight. True visionaries, leaders and revolutionaries do that for us; it is their gift. They challenge us to look within ourselves for all that we are seeking and remind us that freedom is a journey that begins with a single step.
On the other hand, when I look at what our leaders and prophets have given us and how so many of us have chosen to ignore their contributions and sacrifices and settle for third-class citizenship in the U.S. and around the world, it cuts me like a knife. I get so disappointed in my people sometimes. I don’t think most of us really know how beautiful, strong and powerful we are.
As I reflected on the teachings and legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. last week, I took solace in the fact that at least Dr. King is not here to see what we have become. I’m thankful that Dr. King does not have to witness firsthand the frustration and heartbreak of seeing young Black brothers matter-of-factly taking other young Black men’s lives I’m grateful that Dr. King is not here to see the drugs, violence, self-hatred, materialism, nihilism, hopelessness and desolation that are plaguing communities of color. But most importantly, I’m thankful that Dr. King is not here to see how easily many of us are accepting the conditions in which we find ourselves as “just the way it is.”
But then I remember that Dr. King is still among us. He lives on in the cherished memories of those who knew him personally, those who sat and spoke and marched with him, those who knew firsthand how deeply he loved us. He is with us in the hearts of young parents who are doing everything in their power to raise strong, intelligent and beautiful children. King lives on in the words and deeds of the community’s true leaders — not elected officials whose only goal is to get re-elected or religious leaders who only care about the dollars they collect from their own congregations to erect colossal new houses of worship and fancy cars.
Dr. King is everywhere. As are Malcolm X, Dr. Betty Shabazz, Marcus Garvey, Coretta Scott King, Queen Mother Moore, Crispus Attucks, Medgar Evers, Martin Delaney, Emmett Till, James Chaney, Ida B. Wells, Frederick Douglass, Booker T. Washington, Fannie Lou Hamer, Denmark Vesey, Carter G. Woodson, Sojourner Truth, Alex Haley, Mary McCleod Bethune, Benjamin E. Mays, Nat Turner, Joseph Cinque, Bobby Hutton, Hector Peterson, Toussaint L’Ouverture, Mark Clark, Fred Hampton, Langston Hughes, Zora Neale Hurston, Paul Laurence Dunbar and all the other countless millions who have gone before us and continue to fight for us even though so many of us fail to acknowledge their presence in or contributions to our lives. They have all traveled across oceans of time to stand by our side. They keep us going when we are ready to call it quits and are an enduring reminder of the sacrifices necessary to be free.
In essence, we are not merely remembering Dr. King during annual MLK observances. We are essentially remembering all of the ancestors who refused to die and acknowledging those upon whose shoulders we now stand. We are paying tribute to all of those who have gone before us and paved the way for our survival with their blood, sweat and tears. Let us remember the words of the old spiritual which says, “Members don’t git weary/Members don’t git weary/Members don’t git weary/For the work’s alms’ done.”
And we continue to celebrate the legacy of Dr. King and Black History Month, let us be mindful of the African-centered principle that says from those to whom much is given, much is expected. Our ancestors literally gave everything so that future generations might survive to see a better day.
Dr. King once said, “Our nettlesome task is to discover how to organize our strength into compelling power so that government cannot elude our demands. We must develop from strength, a situation in which the government finds it wise and prudent to collaborate with us. It would be the height of naiveté to wait passively until the administration had somehow been infused with blessings of good will that it implored us for our programs. The first course is grounded in mature realism, the other is childish fantasy.”
His observation is akin to Frederick Douglass’ insightful passage about power conceding nothing without a demand. Both of these men bring clarity and purpose to the challenges facing Blacks in New Orleans as we grapple with a self-absorbed, power-hungry and machiavellian city administration and those from communities of color who have decided to support the unjust policies and ordinances of the ruling white minority in New Orleans rather than take a stand for justice and democracy for all.
Community activist and organizer W.C. Johnson saw just how committed some Blacks in New Orleans are to supporting the questionable policies of an administration that refuses to share decision-making power and resources with the Black masses when he attempted to cover an event honoring the legacy of Dr. King at SUNO last Monday. While white media organizations were given free rein to do as they pleased, he was told that he could not record the program for his cable-access show, “OurStory.”
Collaboration and collusion with one’s oppressors is neither a recent phenomenon nor is it surprising. Albert Memmi talks about it in his insightful book The Colonizer and the Colonized.
While some in city government suggest that Blacks who speak out against unfair policies and persistent inequality are no more than troublemakers and race card-players, author Albert Memmi writes: “There is a strange kind of tragic enigma associated with the problem of racism. No one, or almost no one, wishes to see themselves as racist; still racism persists, real and tenacious.”
The city administration made sure that it had a stranglehold on the city-sponsored MLK Day program and denied a request by the New Orleans branch of the NAACP to be a part of that observance, the significance of which appears to be lost on the administration. That program was held in Congo Square, sacred land for people of African descent in New Orleans, and presided over by a mayor who refused to say a mumbling word last year about the 200th anniversary of the 1811 slave revolt, which has historical ties to Congo Square. The administration did nothing to boost his image with the Black masses in New Orleans by refusing to allow the NAACP to join city officials in paying tribute to King. So much for the notion of unity and “One New Orleans.”
While the mayor was waxing nostalgic about King and his colorblind ideals, a supposedly independent Black gathering intended to honor King was blocking the Black Press from covering the event. Those hoping to avoid the self-serving, condescending and convoluted speeches delivered in Congo Square by those in good standing with the administration perhaps made the trek to SUNO last Monday hoping for an African-centered, authentic, grassroots celebration of King and the Movement, an alternative to the antiseptic, scripted, city-sponsored MLK Day program. By most accounts, there was nothing authentic or African-centered about the SUNO gathering either.
On one side of town, the administration and its friends were talking about nonviolence and colorblindness, ironically, in a city where it is painfully clear every day that race still matters and that many of the city’s laws and policies contribute directly to the demise of communities of color. Essentially, the message in Congo Square last Monday was for Blacks catching hell in New Orleans to suffer in silence rather than lift their voices and make trouble for the powers that be. Meanwhile at SUNO some of the administration’s good friends made it clear that there was no place at the table of respectable Negroes for the Black Press.
The latter might be confusing unless you consider the following quote by Carter G. Woodson about mentally enslaved Black folks: “When you control a man’s thinking you do not have to worry about his actions. You do not have to tell him not to stand here or go yonder. He will find his ‘proper place’ and will stay in it. You do not need to send him to the back door. He will go without being told. In fact, if there is no back door, he will cut one for his special benefit. His education makes it necessary.”
Whether someone at the SUNO gathering was instructed to slight the Black Press or simply did it on his or her own is completely immaterial. The end-result is all that matters.
For the record, there have always been colored folks in this city and nation who were all too eager to become co-conspirators in the demise of their own people by doing everything they could to undermine the efforts of freedom fighters to score points with the powers that be.
As I watched the video of Negroes sashaying around SUNO last week, I wondered how many of those in attendance at the MLK program were actively involved in efforts to save SUNO last year. How many of them wouldn’t have lost a single night of sleep if SUNO had ceased to exist?
Blacks competing for the spotlight and prestige in New Orleans could learn a great deal from the words of Malcolm X, who eventually came to understand that it was okay for Blacks to disagree philosophically on some issues as long as they shared a commitment to securing freedom, justice and democracy for the oppressed masses. “Our people have made the mistake of confusing the methods with the objectives,” Malcolm X said. “As long as we agree on objectives, we should never fall out with each other just because we believe in different methods or tactics or strategy to reach a common objective. We have to keep in mind at all times that we are not fighting for integration, nor are we fighting for separation. We are fighting for recognition as free humans in this society.”
Needless to say, the struggle continues. In many ways, we appear to be worse off than we were four decades ago. At least then, the Black community was intact and there was no mass movement of “successful” or “prominent” Black people away from the rest of the community. We had no choice but to live together and we learned to build a community that served the needs of everyone who lived there. We obviously have to return to seeing ourselves as our brothers’ and sisters’ keepers and protectors.
The real message of the King holiday this year is that there is a great deal of work that remains to be done. And so the battle rages on, compelling us to fight the good fight and “march on ’til victory is won.” And so we shall.
This article was originally published in the January 23, 2012 print edition of The Louisiana Weekly newspaper
