So The Time Has Come

The BBC reports this week that, from the beginning of the 2008 / 09 academic year, Britain's involvement in the slave trade is to be studied by all secondary pupils in England.

When I began university, I studied a core module in the first year called "Black Atlantic: Slavery and it's Legacies". The title, you may notice, is related to a book by Paul Gilroy, but that's not the point. I came out of the first lecture scared. I was not scared by the horrors of slavery (I guess the MTV generation has become passive to images and tales of gore and suffering), but what troubled me personally was that I had gone through my entire childhood without realising that Britain -- the country of which I had always considered myself but a loyal servant -- committed one of the most terrible crimes of modern civilisation. I knew of the Holocaust, which accounted for the deaths of millions of people because of their religion, but I knew not of fates worse than death bore out by African people over timescales of centuries instead of decades. I felt ignorant and out of touch with a passage of history so gruesome and wrong that I simply began to crave knowledge and understanding on a phenomenal and bewildering scale.

What hurt the most was the sudden realisation that slavery and the slave trade mattered. They mattered as early as the sixteenth century, and they still matter here in the twenty-first.

I studied my degree at the University of Liverpool John Moores: the streets I walked down to get to class were, and still are, named after the slave traders. Under the picture on the BBC web site, the caption reads: "pupils will be urged to look at the long term impacts of slavery". While this simply has to be the case if the learning is to be worthwhile, it is worth remembering that the legacies of slavery are not purely aesthetic in terms of the microcosm of Liverpool. As often as raindrops fall upon Liverpool the city tries to cleanse itself, yet it longs for a cleanliness which seems to forever be out of reach, as the raindrops come laced with the blood of the slaves. The same is true of Bristol. The same is true of London.

The only time I ever came close to touching upon the slave trade was in the sixth form at school, when I was studying A-level government & politics. We learnt of about thirty Supreme Court cases in a single one hour lesson. Dred Scott vs Sandford, 1857 passed by in a single sentence: "no slave could be a citizen of the United States" said the teacher. "Next one, Plessy vs Ferguson, 1897," he continued, "the legalisation of segregation in America. This was overturned in the 50's with the case Brown vs Board of Education." In about thirty seconds we covered the spine of African-American history with regard to the U.S. Supreme Court. I can't recall them being mentioned again in class, but I still remember thinking at the time: "slaves? Segregation? There's no connection there." Thankfully I did my reading and I did my research. Twelve months later, in my first year at university.

Until now, the neglect of the slave trade and slavery from the curriculum sticks out like a sore thumb. To not teach the slave trade and slavery and the legacies of both is to effectively deny that they happened.

There's currently a 'comment' up on the BBC web site simply saying the teaching of slavery should not be compulsory, made by Vic, UK. Hmmm. Should pupils learn the concept of equality? Are people of African descent equal to people of European descent? Should pupils learn that everyone should be judged by the content of their character and not by the colour of their skin? (I am assuming the answer is an unwavering 'yes', there). By making slavery compulsory it makes the civil rights movement easier to contextualise -- I find it hard to believe I read King's speech and discussed it in class without taking slavery and the slave trade into account whatsoever. The philosophy of Malcolm X is so misunderstood in high school history that schools won't touch it with a barge pole. On face value it's an angry black man shouting "the white man is the devil!" He shouts the white man is the devil because the white man enslaved the black man for three hundred years, and even though Lincoln "freed" the slaves in 1865, African-Americans were still not free when he (Malcolm X) was assassinated and were still second-class citizens then, 100 years after "freedom". Those who forget the past are condemned to repeat it.

The election of Barack Obama to the White House will not put an end to racial prejudice, in the same way that racial prejudice did not begin with the slave trade. But the picture is a complex one: racial prejudice, the political career of Barack Obama, and the slave trade are all carefully interwoven. You can't learn about two of them without the third one. In between these three, of course, there are many more important factors which also cannot be ignored...

Yours, wherever you may be,
Daniel C. Wright

Winning In The Ghetto: Explaining Harlem Through The Life And Times Of Malcolm X

The complexities and paradoxes of Harlem can be partially understood through the kaleidoscope of the life and work of (Mr.) Malcolm X, with close reference to James Baldwin’s The Fire Next Time and Claude Brown’s Manchild In The Promised Land. It is my intention to demonstrate this by dividing the characteristics of Harlem into explaining four fundamental concepts: Harlem as a place with a pre-determined destiny due to geographical elements; Harlem as a space for change under the umbrella of democracy in the United States, being itself a microcosm of a black metropolis for the world’s black people; Harlem as a space where forces of good and evil co-exist and collide in a ghettoised prism, resulting in the notion of ‘good’ being heavily distorted; and finally Harlem as the white man’s ‘sleaze pit’ where white persons go to indulge in illicit customs. In the following essay it is my intention to illustrate how Harlem, when considered in these guises, and contextualised historically from 1940 through the 1960’s, changed Malcolm X from a naïve Michigan boy to a hustling, street-talking Harlemite, and then to a leader for the black community. Throughout, I will draw upon specific details given in the above texts.

GEOGRAPHICS

To begin, it is important to understand the significance of the geography of Harlem. In broad terms, this means placing the neighbourhood in relation to the rest of Manhattan. Harlem is located directly north of Central Park, with 110^th street being the southern ‘dividing line’. Malcolm X noted in his autobiography that “when we left Central Park at the upper end, at 110^th street, the people’s complexion began to change[1].” Indeed, 110^th street was, during Malcolm X’s lifetime at least, a definitive barrier between classes and races. It is less so today, but it remains a significant point of reference on the majority of Manhattan maps. It should not surprise us in the least that Malcolm felt a change in the air when he crossed 110^th street. We may be surprised, however, to read that around 110^th Street was “the worst of the ghetto, the poorest people[2].” Even within the Harlem ghetto, a hierarchy remained.

While Harlem is basically a single borough, its streets are what New York’s African-Americans call (or are supposed to accept as) home. At the age of thirteen, James Baldwin learnt this from a police officer in the centre of the intersection: “the cop in the middle of the street muttered ‘why don’t you niggers stay uptown where you belong?’[3]” it is significant that Harlem is quite central on Manhattan; to the East and West of Central Park to the South, Harlem is bordered by predominantly white neighbourhoods, and Washington Heights is to the North of the black community. Excepting Central Park, Harlem is completely surrounded by white boroughs, full of people with different coloured skin and people of a supposed different class. The captivity of the black man in the United States is certainly evidenced by these geographic idiosyncrasies, which all add to the experience of living in Harlem, and must be taken into account as having a positive effect in reinforcing the Nation of Islam ideology. Even Baldwin concedes that “it is ‘only the so called American-Negro’ who remains trapped, disinherited, and despised, in a nation that has kept him in bondage for over four hundred years. . .[4]” Indeed, the location of Harlem could be one of the principle reasons for Claude Brown referring to Harlem as being “exploited and neglected[5].”

The grid system played an important part in the development of Malcolm X. The logistics of such a system results in the creation of a series of generic corners. At busy intersections, the corners become a focal point. Baldwin notes how he: “sometimes found myself in Harlem on Saturday nights, and I stood in the crowds at 125^th Street and Seventh Avenue, and listened to the Muslim speakers[6].” The Nation of Islam speakers were not the only ones who preached on soapboxes and step-ladders at the bustling intersections to anyone who would listen. Malcolm X realised this:

. . . the big trouble, obviously, was that we were only one among the many voices of black discontent on every busy Harlem corner. The different Nationalist groups, the ‘Buy Black!’ forces, and others like that; dozens of their step-ladder orators were trying to increase their followings[7].”

We can see from this that the grid system in place across Manhattan Island allows speakers to address a large number of people at once. Citizens can congregate and listen, and the orators also have the chance of catching the ear of passers-by as well. The manipulation of geography within the urban spectrum helped Malcolm X when he was the hustler selling cannabis to the drug addicts. When he had come out of prison, he used the same locations to sell his story of the white man being the devil to the dishomed African-Americans who now occupied the ghettos of America’s metropolises.

A SPACE FOR CHANGE

It is possible to understand Harlem as an urban space for change under the umbrella of democracy, on account of it being a focal point for black people across the world. This is evidenced in the writing of Claude Brown, who not only insists that “to me, New York was Harlem[8],” but also says he “used to tell everybody jokingly - but I half believed it - that Harlem was the capital of the world[9].” Not only does this explain Malcolm X’s desire to go and experience Harlem, but it underlines the importance of the borough to African-American culture. Harlem gave African-Americans a sense of identity; this is reinforced by Brown’s notion that Harlem was still his “point of relating to life and events and putting them together[10].”

Considering this, we can apply a similar theory to the hustling of Malcolm X. He managed to sell marijuana all up and down the East coast of the United States, through the manipulation of a railroad identification card. When he ran out of supplies, he would return to New York (Harlem), load up and then hit the road again[11]. Harlem became his base for his operation. It was his personal starting point for what he expected to be his life’s work. In a more general sense, this a reflection on the African-American relationship to the borough.

The notion of Harlem being the black man’s America is one which does not sit comfortably with the young James Baldwin. Throughout the opening part of The Fire Next Time, he feels sickened by the gangster lifestyle which was evident on a day-to-day basis on the Harlem streets. This is important because it is the opposite view taken by Malcolm X and Claude Brown who, for a short time at least, enjoy the characteristics of Harlem living in the age of sin:

“I was icily determined - more determined, really, than I then knew - never to make my piece with the ghetto but to die and go to hell before . . . I would ‘accept’ my place in this Republic[12].”

His anger at the misdemeanours of life on the Harlem streets is later adopted by both Brown and, to a greater extent, Malcolm X, yet his initial unwillingness to live out the gangster lifestyle even for a short time indicates that, for all it’s lacking of moral standards, Harlem can a place to empower the individual. In the case of Baldwin, it drove him into the church[13] and made him a better person for it. Baldwin freely admits he was scared to be living in such close proximity to so many evils, but this made him starkly aware of what was right. Malcolm X (and to a lesser extent Claude Brown) gain this awareness only after having been sucked into Harlem’s seedy underworld (though a great many things happened in broad daylight) and gained first hand experience of life without morals.

Any urban space has the ability to change any man in any number of ways. The specific characteristics of Harlem life clearly result in everyone being someone, and Baldwin seems quite resigned to the fact that change happens in Harlem, and change happens fast. In his words, “one doesn’t, in Harlem, long remain standing on any auction block[14]” before the nuances of life in the borough change your outlook on life and your personality. They changed Baldwin for the better, as they did Brown and Malcolm too, but only after years of experience of the nuances.

GOOD VERSUS EVIL

Certain characteristics of the Manhattan neighbourhood point to it being a space where forces of good and evil co-exist and collide in a ghettoized prism, and where the notion of good is distorted. Running the numbers, for example, is represented by Malcolm (and others) as being an accepted part of Harlem life: all citizens recognise it as being a relief from the stresses of living in the ghetto and most African-Americans dreamt of hitting the big combination one day[15]. The police, for what they were worth, turned a blind eye to the numbers runners[16] and allowed the practice to flourish. This all went on regardless of the fact gambling was deemed wrong by New York law, hence it being illegality[17].

This distortion as far as the characteristics of acceptability are concerned is paralleled by a greater sense of what is unacceptable. Claude Brown, for instance, remarks how stealing from the poor is utterly wrong when a numbers banker failed to pay out after a win[18].

What is good and what is wrong is very different within the Harlem ghetto. Streetcorner philosophers[19] appear on the corner of many busy intersections appealing to Harlemites to listen to them and believe in what they are saying. Baldwin takes a distanced approach to such street politics:

“I have long had a very definite tendency to tune out the moment I come anywhere near either a pulpit or a soapbox. What … men were saying about white people I had often heard before[20].”

What Baldwin is referring to as “often heard before” is the berating of the white man. The portrayal of the white man as the devil would not have been anything new to any Harlemite. Malcolm X would soon be one of the people maximising the cosmopolitan way of life in Harlem in such a way in an attempt to try and get his political message across, but the acceptability of that political message outside of the 110^th Street to 155^th Street microclimate is unquestionably going to endure a harsh reception.

To reduce it to a lower common denominator, black is portrayed as good, while white is portrayed as evil. Baldwin notes how, to the supporters of the Nation of Islam at least, “Allah, out of power, and on the dark side of heaven, had become – for all practical purposes, anyway – black[21].” For Brown, being as far away from light skinned, the more accepted you were into the Harlem community, as if having a darker shade of skin made you a better person than a lighter skinned counterpart[22]. Such assumptions and such warped values were acceptable and sustained in the Harlem which moulded Malcolm X, though they would most likely not be actively endorsed by people of authority and power.

SLEAZE PIT

The evils of Harlem made the area between 110^th Street and Washington Heights into one big market. The market catered for the white man, and it is possible to understand Harlem as the white man’s ‘sleaze pit’, selling all the evils one can handle.

The young Malcolm X did not take long to notice that white people were not a novelty in Harlem; as he put it, “blacktown crawled with white people[23].” As he grew to know Harlem a little better, he slowly realised they came for the atmosphere: Harlem was a special place for them, too. Though Malcolm came close to white people early on during his time in Harlem (the NYPD recommended Small’s (where he worked) to white people looking for a ‘safe’ place up in Harlem[24]), he would later come to know ‘sinful’ as being all too good a synonym for ‘white’.

The riot of 1943 had a detrimental impact upon Harlem being a fun place for white people from downtown. After 1943, few whites went North of Central Park after dark, preferring to get their kicks in other areas of Manhattan. The only white people who continued to go there after dark were in pursuit of illegalities.

With substantial amounts of money involved, Malcolm X played a part in helping rich white men (and thus usually powerful and important white men) live out their bizarre sexual fantasies. The women who ran the operation now needed ‘steerers’ to get her white clients into, and out of, Harlem without them being seen; this is where Malcolm came in. His first hand experience of this business resulting in him declaring “Harlem was their sin-den, their fleshpot[25].”

Interestingly, he notes that, in this black-white nether world, no one ever judged the white men[26]. Later, however, Malcolm X would realise the errors he had made in his life, and as he became detached form the Harlem hustling scene, it is likely he would develop a very low opinion of the political leaders and the leaders of society whom he dealt with. To deny these experiences of white New Yorkers had a detrimental affect on Malcolm X is foolishness; he was often invited in by the white men to watch the whippings they craved from the African-American women[27]. These experiences must partly explain his deepest feelings towards white people when he first left prison a Muslim. As James Baldwin noted: “the Negro’s experience of the white world cannot possibly create in him any respect for the standards by which the white world claims to live[28].”

The transparency of these exchanges is debatable. The chances are that tails of these services being provided by African-American women for (often ageing) white men slipped out into common knowledge somewhere down the line, whether it be by word of mouth or a passer-by seeing something odd. If we take this into consideration, and combine it with some hard facts, we get a detailed picture of the black-white relationship in Harlem during the given time frame:

Ø Authorities invested next to nothing in Harlem[29];

Ø Mayor LaGuardia closed the Savoy[30];

Ø Rents in Harlem were higher than most of the rest of Manhattan[31];

Ø White merchants in Harlem refused to hire black people[32];

Ø A white policemen shot a black soldier at the Braddock[33].

The latter two were the cause of the 1935 and 1943 riots respectively. If we take all these into consideration, we get a greater understanding of why Baldwin asserted that “one did not need to prove to a Harlem audience that all white men were devils[34].” In the work of Malcolm X with the Nation of Islam, we see this inherent belief, personified by incidents in the borough of Harlem, run explicitly through his work.

To conclude, by reading The Autobiography of Malcolm X in close relation to The Fire Next Time and Manchild of the Promised Land under the four guises outlined previous, we get a good sense of the urban landscape and the social make-up of the Harlem which transformed Malcolm X, first into a criminal, and then permitted him to be a devoted believer in the dangerous notion of the Nation of Islam: the white man is the devil. It is important to understand both aspects of Malcolm X’s life to get a grasp of the paradoxes which were present in Harlem from (roughly) 1940 through the 1960’s and which can, and do, exist in any urban space.

---

[1] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 157

[2] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 191

[3] The Fire Next Time, page 26

[4] The Fire Next Time, page 65

[5] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 179

[6] The Fire Next Time, page 46

[7] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 317-8

[8] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 53

[9] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 119

[10] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 198

[11] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 192

[12] The Fire Next Time, page 29

[13] The Fire Next Time, page 32

[14] The Fire Next Time, page 32

[15] Autobiography of Malcolm X; page 171

[16] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 51

[17] Section 5-401 of the New York Constitution, as cited by http://www.gambling-law-us.com/State-Laws/New-York/

[18] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 209

[19] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 61

[20] The Fire Next Time, page 46-7

[21] The Fire Next Time, page 46

[22] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 63

[23] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 169

[24] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 178

[25] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 209

[26] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 209

[27] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 209

[28] The Fire Next Time, page 28

[29] Manchild in the Promised Land, page 190

[30] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 202

[31] The New York Times, December 13, 1937, page 02; “Negro Rents Held Artificially High; Post, at Hearing, Says That Harlem Tenants Are ‘Gouged’ Since They Cannot Move” http://select.nytimes.com/gst/abstract.html?res=F10C14FB3B5A157A93C7A81789D95F438385F9

[32] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 202

[33] Autobiography of Malcolm X, page 203

[34] The Fire Next Time, page 48

John Howard Griffin’s ‘Black Like Me’: Essential Reading

About twelve months ago now, I went into the Aldham Robarts Library at Liverpool John Moores University and stood in front of a large selection of books. I scanned the titles as quickly as I could, my eyes jumping from one part of the shelf to another. All the books appealed to me. I did not know where to start reading.

I wish I could say this book jumped out at me, but I picked it up at random. I read the title. Black Like Me. I read it over and over in my head. Black Like Me. Black Like Me. The book was a lot smaller than many of the other books. It was the same size as my New Testament. There wasn’t very many pages in it, and it was quite battered. It was ragged, and worn.

I made the assumption this was an educated black academic writer, putting pen to paper and explaining (or at least, trying to explain) what it was like on a day-to-day basis to be a black man.

I was wrong.

I was very, very wrong. This book goes beyond that. It draws attention to the part of American society that officials claim does not exist, but everyone knows that it does. John Howard Griffin first highlighted it, then drew a line underneath it, and then got ten, 4,000 watt light bulbs and pointed them all directly at it. Everyone could see. The problem was clear, and there was no disputing it. It existed, it was real, and it was American: racism. It could not be denied.

But Black Like Me is more. It gets under your skin. It eats into you, though you, and leaves you empty. There is nothing left in you. What remains is a hole. You are incomplete. Your soul is incomplete. How can you be complete when someone tells you that the black man is equal, but he is not? He is just the same; the only thing which is not equal is his relationship to society, and this is different because society treats him as different, but Griffin confirms what educated people already know -- that he is not different. He is just the same. You cannot be complete if you have a soul and you know that people just like you are in trouble. They are the brotherhood of Man. They are my brothers, they are your brothers, they are our brothers.

Some whites will say this is not really it. They will say this is the white man’s experience as a Negro in the south, not the Negro’s. But this is picayunish, and we no longer have time for that. We no longer have time to atomise principles and beg the question. We fill too many gutters while we argue unimportant points and confuse issues. The Negro. The South. These are the details.

That is John Howard Griffin speaking. In the preface, he abolishes the primary concern of the reader. And he is right. I wish he was wrong. But he was not. He was not wrong in 1959. I doubt he would be wrong in 2007.

Rest at pale evening…
A tall slim tree…
Night coming tenderly
Black like me.

Yours, wherever you may be,
Daniel C. Wright

The Problem Of The Twenty-First Century

In his most magnificent of books, the great Dr. W.E.B. Du Bois pronounced: "the problem of the twentieth century is the problem of the color-line." The striking fact, of course, being that he wrote this in 1903, with still 97 years of said century still to run.

I am not so bold. As I write, there are only 93 years of the twenty-first century to appear in the present, before becoming history forever.

He was the greatest educator of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century. His work for the immediate social up-lift of the African-American deserves credit of the highest merit. A man who inspired both Malcolm X and Martin Luther King Jr -- leaders closer to our own generation, who spoke a language closer (sometimes eerily so) to that of our own. Oh! what joy we have in knowing he lived through the civil rights era, and to consider his spirit still in our society today!

A man of vision, Du Bois certainly was. It would be easy to categorise his foreseeing of the troubles ahead as in the same bracket of those of a certain Greek mythologist. A bold prediction it was, but the signs and signifiers were all there. Dr. W.E.B. Du Bois merely framed them in a sweeping generalisation of a sound bite, which every gentlemen could comprehend.

But should he be alive today, he would have to turn his back on the issue of race when trying to consider the great problem of the next century. The century we shall have to live through. Oh! the pain, for the issue of race did not end in 1999, the second the clock took us into years beginning with '2'. Race will always be in our society, so long as there are always people of different colors, creeds, origins, &c., all jumbled together in the social sphere of Great Britain. And Britain is most certainly Great -- the greatest, one might so far as saying -- for she is the least likely of the Western nations to turn 'race' into 'racism'. A problem, of course, which befell the largest most dominant nation to span this earth. The Empire of the West could only wriggle with the pain of racism, as it threatened (and to a lesser extent did) tear the country in two. And I don't mean the civil war. I mean the 1950's.

The greatest leveller, though, is time. A healer, I have heard it called. Healing, yes, is one of the abilities of time. But it can also bruise. Time has scarred us in a way every man should fear -- indeed, in a way Man should fear. For the problem of the twenty-first century is the problem of the climate.

The problem is, like racism, sadly embedded in our society, but it isn't one concerning philanthropy. The gentlemen gathered in Paris, with all their PhD's hanging over their heads, and told us what we already new. An act of greater symbolism than of real value -- the problem became official. The problem became real. If we do not change our habits soon, the racism wins. The racists of 1950's America slam down the civil rights movement and the assassinations of Martin Luther King Jr and Malcolm X are glorified. Go far enough back and the confederates win the civil war. Go further, and the slave trade cannot be abolished. As you can see, we must act now.

Were all the efforts of the great great men mentioned above in vain? Did they only make society better for less than a century. The debate on race is a healthy one to have, but it will be meaningless if it cannot impact upon the future. For it to do that, we need to make sure we have a future.

I arose this morn to see the bird table, just feet from the window. As the blind went higher, I could see the struggling garage. But beyond that...... nothing. Nothing. Only thick fog forever more. There had been a disaster on an apocalyptic scale, but my habitat remained in tact.

Like looking through the fog of this morn, we cannot say for sure what the future holds for Mankind, but the problem of the twenty-first century is the problem of climate. We must act now. The time for talking was yesterday. The time for actions was today. But still our politicians sit in the House of Commons, the House of Representatives, the Senate &c. debating what is to be done.

Fools! All of us! Waiting for a solution. We could be waiting until we slowly burn to death under the heat of God's great sun. We are going about this the wrong way. We need to learn a lesson from the civil rights movement, and we need to learn now! The solution to the problem of the twentieth century was bottom-up. From the ghettos of the Northern cities, and from the densely populated areas of the racist south, they went and marched on Washington, in a show of change, in a show of defiance, in a show of anger, in a show of unity! And why? To force change!

The solution to the problem of the twenty-first century is bottom-up! We need to act now! We need to make the changes. In moments of great crisis, politicians do not make the magnificent gestures of brilliance, the people do! Act now and the future is ours, secured by us.

Yours, wherever you may be,
Daniel C. Wright.