Stokely Speaks: Black Power Back to Pan-Africanism (Stokely Carmichael (Kwame Ture))

Stokely Speaks: Black Power Back to Pan-Africanism
Author	Stokely Carmichael (Kwame Ture)
Publisher	Random House
First published	1971 New York
Edition	First Edition
Type	Book
Source	https://archive.org/details/stokelyspeaksbla00carm

Dedication

This book is dedicated to President Ahmed Sékou Touré and Mme. Touré and to my brothers and sisters in Guinea who have suffered much to maintain Africa's dignity and sustain Africa's will to survive.

Editor's Preface

"This is one reason Africa has such importance: the reality of black men ruling their own nations gives blacks elsewhere a sense of possibility, of power, which they do not now have." The preceding quote comes not from one of Stokely Carmichael's recent speeches but from "Power and Racism," the third chapter of this anthology. It was written in 1966, after the famous Meredith Mississippi March which had thrust the personality of Stokely Carmichael and the concept of Black Power into the lives of black people across the United States. I call these few words concerning the importance of Africa and the date to the reader's attention because they illustrate very well the central point which this editor wishes to focus upon: that this new collection of Carmichael's articles and speeches documents his consistent growth and development as a revolutionary activist and theoretician from 1965 until the present, 1971. Beginning with the first chapter, "Who Is Qualified?" through the final chapter, "From Black Power Back to Pan-Africanism," the speeches, in chronological order, clearly demonstrate the ideological development of the author—who has become one of the most loved, hated, respected, feared and misunderstood black men of our generation.

But perhaps more important than summarizing the ideological history of a controversial black leader, this book also serves to some extent as a history of the "Black Movement" during the past six years. For the concepts which Stokely developed during these years grew out of the collective experience of his study, travel and work. The work included: organizing for and working within the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) and later the Black Panther Party; founding and working with many other local and national black organizations seeking to develop independent black political institutions in the ghettos of the United States; and speaking before his brothers and sisters whenever and wherever possible, trying to develop the correct political perspective and consciousness among our people. In acquiring this experience, it is obvious that interactions with other co-workers, long hours of planning strategy and exchange of ideas, along with the hard lessons which America teaches those who dare challenge her methods of operating, have all helped produce Stokely Carmichael. His own growth and development cannot be seen in strict isolation from that of the movement, which in our generation started with civil rights, moved on to Black Power, and is now beginning to recognize and understand Brother Malcolm's call for us to internationalize our struggle and look home toward Mother Africa. Thus, this volume is of double importance to students of history and politics, and to all those brothers and sisters who profess an interest in the black liberation struggle, whether as activists or supporters. Although six years are but a dot on the historical spectrum, persons of African descent must surely admit that the past five or ten years have represented one of the most important and dynamic periods in our long struggle for freedom which began on the slave ships.

But, just as Stokely Carmichael is a product of this recent period of struggle, so has he also become one of the few men who can and does give meaningful, serious direction to our efforts. Having worked with Stokely Carmichael since 1966 and having been a close observer of his development into a national, then international leader, it is a most difficult task for me to jot down my impressions, observations and analysis, knowing that their objectivity will surely be questioned by many. But no one will deny the fact that black people living in the United States rejoiced at the appearance of the Black and Beautiful charismatic Stokely in 1966, which filled the vacuum left by Malcolm's death. How could we ever count the number of brothers and sisters who flooded the SNCC offices with requests for Carmichael to come to their schools, cities, towns, counties and organizations to speak, bring the message to them and help them organize?

Blacks here in America, and elsewhere by then, followed closely his 1967 travels in Africa and the Third World— some with pride, others puzzled, but all anxious to hear what he had learned and how it related to them. Upon his return, Panther leaders beseeched him to speak in behalf of the recently imprisoned Huey P. Newton, asserting that only he had the stature, influence and ability to help them publicize Huey's plight. Stokely's willingness to do this resulted in the party's declaring him Prime Minister of the Black Panther Party and of Colonized Afro-America in February 1968.

Shortly thereafter began a period of deliberate withdrawal from the public eye in which the author accepted only limited speaking engagements and concentrated his efforts on building the Black United Front in Washington, D.C., which he hoped would later serve as a model to be repeated in other cities and towns of America. At the same time. Stokely was quietly making plans for his future residence in Guinea, West Africa, having become convinced of the need for further study and of the need for us to establish concrete ties with the Mother Continent. The groundwork for these plans had been established during his 1967 visits with certain African heads of state and with Osaygefo, Dr. Kwame Nkrumah.

It was also in early 1968 that the American press began a clever campaign of attacks on Stokely Carmichael—all designed to discredit him on both personal and political levels. That these attacks and insinuations were deliberate fabrication was rarely even investigated or questioned by the "Negro" news media—they just dutifully repeated and reprinted the rumors white folks had dropped for them. Stokely's refusal to dignify the rumors by refuting them was interpreted by so many of our misinformed brothers and sisters as confirmation of the rumors.

Along with the well-organized anti-Stokely campaign in the mass media came attacks from within the black community from Panther leaders and other so-called Marxists, who began labeling him and all others who didn't follow the "party line" as "pork chop nationalists," "cultural nationalists," etc. It is to Mr. Carmichael's credit that he refused to dignify these "charges" and attacks— and further, to engage in personal attacks on the opposition. A little later, a few remaining members of the once dynamic and influential SNCC decided to "expel" Stokely, using certain "charges" as justification for the "expulsion." Once again, Stokely did not attack his adversaries on the petty, personal level, but preferred to debate the political issues—which are what the "expulsion" and all the name calling were really about. By this time it became clear that a whole lot of folks, from the government through the neo-Marxists to Black Power pimps in the ghetto, feared both Brother Carmichael's political ideology, and his personality which so forcefully presented that ideology.

Stokely remained silent, receiving insults from many who had idolized him only a few years before, from many who had received their early lessons in black consciousness from him, from many who had benefited by their association with him, and from those who had used his name and personality to help build their own thing. In January 1969 he left the United States for Africa, amidst further rumors and accusations that he was "running away" and "going into exile." The situation was very similar to that surrounding Brother Malcolm's departure for Africa in 1964, when so many of his close associates and co-workers began to accuse him of "going away when we need him most over here." During those hot summer months of the 1964 Harlem rebellion, while working as secretary in the Organization of Afro-American Unity (O.A.A.U.) office, I remember very well that some of our brothers and sisters even accused Malcolm of "being just another bourgeois nigger" (referring to his visits with African heads of states), while others could see no benefit whatsoever in his going to Africa. "What does that have to do with us when Harlem is on fire over here?" they questioned. Of course, very few would now want to admit their earlier lack of vision and understanding of Malcolm's mission.

Although Brother Stokely has sent a few messages back to our people in North America and although he returned for a few months in 1970, many have either not heard about the work he is doing in Africa or still do not fully understand its implications. Recently a sister asked me if Stokely "had gone over to Africa and found another cause." To this sister, to so many of our people who are confused and to the student of politics and history, I advise that you read this volume carefully, from beginning to end. Each speech demonstrates the logical growth and development which carried Stokely Carmichael from the Mississippi Delta to Conakry, Guinea. But, perhaps what will strike the reader most is the fact that certain revolutionary positions and ideas which Stokely holds today were also held by him several years ago—they have only been altered or strengthened by the passing years.

For instance, the reader will learn that Stokely has clearly always been anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist. A close co-worker and friend of several years recalls that he was talking about land reform in the Mississippi Delta as far back as 1963, when most of his associates thought "the nigger must be crazy talking about us taking over Eastland's plantation." In the 1966 article, "Power and Racism," from which the opening quote was taken, he dis- cusses the need to destroy capitalism, develop undying love within the black community and to develop a communal system among blacks.

At Berkeley he discussed the impossibility of economically insecure blacks building coalitions with the economically secure "liberal" whites. He spoke of our hooking up with black people around the world—not only psychologically but in terms of concrete working relationships.

In 1967 at the Latin American Solidarity Conference, he emphasized the fact that our language and cultural links with Africa had been broken in the same way that white Europeans force their language and culture on Latins living in the United States.

At the "Free Huey" rally in Oakland, California, in February 1968, Carmichael began to sharpen the concept that all persons of African descent, regardless of where they were born or lived, are Africans, that we must develop the concept of "undying love" for our people, and the necessity of joining the nine hundred million Africans scattered around the globe. Further, he began stressing the need for acquiring "a piece of land."

Before the national Arab Student Conference in the autumn of 1968. he spoke about our fighting to defend Egypt, which is a part of Africa.

In Greensboro, North Carolina, right before leaving for Africa, he stressed the need for us to move past the "entertainment stage" of shouting about "how bad we are" and begin to engage in hard, serious analytical study if we were serious about revolution.

Thus, throughout these speeches, from 1965 to 1971, there are common threads, some of which are later discarded and others developed and strengthened. This does not imply that the reader will not find contradictions. There are bound to be contradictions in anyone's ideas and philosophy as each new day, week, month and year teaches us something new and clarifies a past misconception. To all who approach this book with an open mind, anxious to learn what the enigmatic Stokely Carmichael is all about, "where he's coming from," and how he arrived at his present mission and ideology, I think this volume offers some clear answers and insights. Even his enemies and those ready to believe the worst about any fellow black man may be in for a surprise and learn something if they are willing to put their own ideas to a test and meet the challenge. And to be honest, most of us do find Carmichael's ideas and plans to be a challenge, which too many of us are afraid to face.

It has indeed been difficult to choose the speeches and articles included here. In Montreal, Canada, in 1968, at the Black Writers Conference, near pandemonium broke out as he spoke, yet we were unable to include this particular speech. Likewise we have not included the many speeches given in Guyana or Africa, where he has always been received as a head of state and given a joyous welcome by Africans from all walks of life. The reader should note that large sections were edited out of several speeches to avoid repetition where the same ideas are discussed adequately in other speeches. For instance, large segments were taken out of the OLAS speech because they duplicated what he had just finished saying at the Dialectics of Liberation Conference in London, which is recorded in the previous chapter. So, too, have large segments been extracted from the Greensboro, North Carolina, speech.

The difference in delivery style before black audiences and before white audiences is striking—thus one will be aware of the warmth and rapport which existed when he spoke before black groups. At the same time, the printed speeches cannot help losing much of their fire and enthusiasm of delivery since it is impossible to transmit audience reaction and all of Stokely's quips onto paper.

In the "Free Huey" speech, the author chose to edit out the lines claiming that "socialism and communism are irrelevant to the struggle of black people." When he said this, Stokely was referring to the sterile, stale brand of European Marxism-Leninism which so many "white radicals" in this country were and still are trying to push among black activists—an ideology which does not deal with the twentieth-century realities of racism and world racial polarization. Further, it completely ignores the fact that socialism has its roots in African communal systems. Because his statement made at the rally was not clarified at the time, he felt it better to delete it from the speech—as was done on his recently released record titled "Free Huey."

I would like to add that the publishers, following the normal editorial procedure, have excluded all the speech openings where Stokely usually introduced co-workers and associates traveling with him at the time. In many cases I am sure that Stokely would want their names mentioned here because of their valuable services to him and the contributions to the struggle which they have made and continue to make. Such persons would include Carver "Chico" Neblett, Cleveland "Cleve" Sellers, Jan Bailey, William "Winky" Hall, and Jean "Koko" Hughes Farrow. I hope that any I have overlooked will forgive me. I must add that in Montreal, Atlanta, and wherever his wife is present, Miriam has always been introduced by the host group as "first lady of the Black World" and so acknowledged by the audience.

This editor wishes to thank the following brothers and sisters for their assistance when urgently needed: Florence Tate, for her advice and assistance with the editing; Freddie Greene Biddle, for supplying detailed data on SNCC's early activities and Carmichael's early years in the movement; Jan Bailey, for making his Carmichael speech collection available to me; and to David Brothers, who has come through always on short notice and helped me deliver copy to meet last-minute deadlines.

We all hope that careful reading of this book will spur our brothers and sisters on to begin the challenging task of serious study, analysis and planning that lie ahead of us. We know it will be read and discussed, because to do otherwise would only perpetuate the ignorance and confusion which presently surrounds Stokely Carmichael the man and his ideas. That he has made mistakes and has his faults only confirms that he is indeed human.

Few other black men in our generation have inspired the love, respect, fear, and hatred which Stokely inspires among our people. And I do not exaggerate. The love and/or respect is clearly shown when three thousand blacks jam Howard University's auditorium, which seats fifteen hundred, to hear him speak. It is shown when our people plead with him to come back to the United States, saying how badly he is needed here. The fear, which frequently inspires hatred, is clearly evident by the amount of time, energy and money which his enemies spend attempting to discredit him. It is up to you, the reader, to find out what it's all about.

— Ethel N. Minor

Acknowledgements

I wish to thank Miss Elizabeth Sutherland Martinez for her invaluable help with the essays "Who Is Qualified?" and "Power and Racism."

A very special thank-you to my brother and colleague Michael ("Mike") Thelwell for his help with Towards Black Liberation.

I would like to thank my mother, May Charles, who served as my messenger.

I wish to express my gratitude to Sister Florence Tate for her assistance in reading and editing the manuscript.

And, of course, Ethel Minor, who not only served as editor and personal secretary, but also as political adviser—a true sister dedicated to our revolutionary struggle.

Naturally I must thank my wife, Zenzi, who has served and continues to serve as my everything.

Notes About a Class

By Jane Stembridge

The most important class was "Stokely's speech class." He put eight sentences on the blackboard, with a line between, like this:

I digs wine	I enjoy drinking cocktails
The peoples wants freedom	The people want freedom
Whereinsoever the policemens goes they causes troubles	Anywhere the officers of the law go, they cause trouble
I wants to reddish to vote	I want to register to vote

STOKELY What do you think about these sentences? Such as—The peoples wants freedom?

ZELMA It doesn't sound right.

STOKELY What do you mean?

ZELMA "Peoples" isn't right.

STOKELY Does it mean anything?

MILTON People means everybody. Peoples means everybody in the world.

ALMA Both sentences are right as long as you understand them.

HENRY They're both okay, but in a speech class you have to use correct English.

(Stokely writes "correct English" in corner of blackboard.)

ZELMA I was taught at least to use the sentences on the right side.

STOKELY Does anybody you know use the sentences on the left?

CLASS Yes.

STOKELY Are they wrong?

ZELMA In terms of English, they are wrong.

STOKELY Who decides what is correct English and what is incorrect English?

MILTON People made rules. People in England, I guess.

STOKELY You all say some people speak like on the left side of the board. Could they go anywhere and speak that way? Could they go to Harvard?

CLASS Yes. No.

STOKELY Does Mr. Turnbow speak like on the left side?

CLASS Yes.

STOKELY Could Mr. Turnbow go to Harvard and speak like that? "I wants to reddish to vote."

CLASS Yes.

STOKELY Would he be embarrassed?

CLASS Yes.

ZELMA He wouldn't be, but I would. It doesn't sound right.

STOKELY Suppose someone from Harvard came to Holmes County and said, "l want to register to vote?" Would they be embarrassed?

ZELMA No.

STOKELY Is it embarrassing at Harvard but not in Holmes County? The way you speak?

MILTON It's inherited. It's depending on where you come from. The people at Harvard would understand.

STOKELY Do you think the people at Harvard should forgive you?

MILTON The people at Harvard should help teach us correct English.

ALMA Why should we change if we understand what we mean?

SHIRLEY It is embarrassing.

STOKELY Which way do most people talk?

CLASS Like on the left.

(He asks each student. All but two say "Left." One says that Southerners speak like on the left, Northerners on the right. Another says that Southerners speak like on the left, but the majority of people speak like on the right.)

STOKELY Which way do television and radio people speak ?

CLASS Left. (There was a distinction made by the class between Northern commentators and local programs. Most programs were local and spoke like on the left, they said.)

STOKELY Which way do teachers speak?

CLASS On the left, except in class.

STOKELY If most people speak on the left, why are they trying to change these people?

GLADYS If you don't talk right, society rejects you. It embarrasses other people if you don't talk right.

HANK But Mississippi society, ours, isn't embarrassed by it.

SHIRLEY But the middle class wouldn't class us with them.

HANK They won't accept "reddish." What is reddish? It's Negro dialect and it's something you eat.

STOKELY Will society reject you if you don't speak like on the right side of the board? Gladys said society would reject you.

GLADYS You might as well face it, man! What we gotta do is go out and become middle class. If you can't speak good English, you don't have a car, a job, or anything.

STOKELY If society rejects you because you don't speak good English, should you learn to speak good English?

CLASS No!

ALMA I'm tired of doing what society say. Let society say "reddish" for a while. People ought to just accept each other.

ZELMA I think we should be speaking just like we always have.

ALMA If I change for society, I wouldn't be free anyway.

ERNESTINE I'd like to learn correct English for my own sake.

SHIRLEY I would too.

ALMA If the majority speaks on the left, then a minority must rule society. Why do we have to change to be accepted by the minority group?

(Lunchtime.)

STOKELY Let's think about two questions for next time : What is society? Who makes the rules for society?

The class lasted a little more than an hour. It moved very quickly. It was very good. That is, people learned. I think they learned because:

—people learn from someone they trust, who trusts them. This trust included Stokely's self-trust and trust, or seriousness, about the subject matter;

—people learn more, and more quickly, from induction rather than deduction;

—people learn when they themselves can make the con- nection between ideas; can move from here to here to here to there;

—people learn when learning situations emphasize and develop one single idea, which is very important to them personally;

—people learn when they can see what they are talking about. Stokely used the board.

Among other things, they themselves concluded:

—there is something called "correct English" and some- thing called "incorrect English";

—most people in the country use some form of incorrect or broken English;

—it is not embarrassing to these people themselves;

—it is made embarrassing by other people because it is embarrassing to them;

—they are a minority, the people who use correct English;

—they decide what is correct English;

—they make that important and use it to shame people and keep them out of society;

—they make that a requirement for jobs and acceptance;

—they decide who is acceptable to society, by shame ; but not everybody can be shamed—not Mr. Turnbow, for example;

—the main thing is to understand what people mean when they talk;

—that is not the main thing to society;

I recorded the whole class because it is a whole thing— one thing. That is why people learned. At least, that is why I learned.

I don't want to make conclusions or proposals. I think Stokely's class can stand on its own. Not only that, I think it is better than anything I could say. Just two things : he spoke to where they were at, and they were at different places, and the places changed during the movement of the discussion. Secondly, he trusted them and he trusted himself . . . and they trusted him.

Who Is Qualified?

[Poverty] is no longer associated with immigrant groups with high aspirations; it is identified with those whose social existence makes it more and more diffcult to break out into the larger society. At the same time, the educational requirements of the economy are increasing."

— Michael Harrington, The Other America

Lowndes County, Alabama

I wouldn't be the first to point out the American capacity for self-delusion. One of the main reasons for the criticism of American society by the Students for a Democratic Society, the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee and other groups is that our society is exclusive while maintaining that it is inclusive. Although automation has prompted some rethinking about the Alger myth and upward mobility, few people are realistic about the ways in which one legally can "make it" here—or who can make it.

The real ways are three: by having money, by knowing the right people, and by education. The first two methods cannot be acknowledged by most of our citizens or our government because they are not available to everyone and we want to think that everyone has equal opportunity in the United States. Therefore, Americans compensate for this by saying that at least there is education, and that is available to anyone who cares enough.

The panacea for lack of opportunity is education, as is the panacea for prejudice. But just how available is it? If every sixteen-year-old in the nation were motivated to attend high school, he could not: there are not enough schools, not enough physical space. As for college, less than one-quarter of the population ever gets there. The financial barrier is too high; even the cheapest state college charges fees which are impossible for the poor. Scholarships serve only the gifted. To make matters worse, many universities and colleges are already fighting off the mob by making entry more difficult. It is getting harder, not easier, for the poor to be included here. For the Negro, there is an additional problem. He is not psychologically attuned to think of college as a goal. Society has taught him to set short sights for himself, and so he does.

Hard work was once considered a fourth way to climb the ladder, and some Americans still see it as a possibility. Automation should have buried that once and for all: you can't start as an elevator operator and move up to be the president of the company, because there are—or soon will be—buttons instead of operators. Actually, the hard-work method was finished off before automation—but until today only a handful of social critics had the nerve to say that ours was a nation of classes. You have to start ahead of the pack to make that climb.

Think now of the Southern Negro, driven off the land in increasing numbers today, coming to the Northern city. He can hardly be compared to previous immigrants, most of whom brought skills with them. Others took menial work until they could save up and open "a little shop." The Southern Negro arrives; is he to pick cotton in Manhattan? He finds the menial work automated and the "little shop" gobbled up by supermarkets. He is, in fact, unemployable—from the Mississippi Delta to Watts. As for finding work in the new factories of the "changing South," he can forget it; if anything, those factories will be more automated than others. As for education, he probably cannot even read or write because Southern Negro elementary schools are that bad. You have to pass tests to get into college; he doesn't even have the education to get an education. Civil rights protest has not materially benefited the masses of Negroes; it has helped those who were already just a little ahead. The main result of that protest has been an opening up of the society to Negroes who had one of the criteria for upward mobility. Jobs have opened up, but they are mainly the jobs on Madison Avenue or Wall Street—which require education. Housing has opened up, but mainly in the "better neighborhoods." In a sense, the Negroes helped by protest have been those who never wanted to be Negroes. Americans who would point to the occasional Negro in his $30,000 suburban home or his sports car and say, "He made it," should have met the Mississippi lady of color who said to me in 1962: "The food that Ralph Bunche eats doesn't fill my stomach."

The South is not some odd, unique corner of this nation; it is super-America. The Negro is not some "minority group," but a microcosm of the excluded. A white boy may sit with me watching the President on television, and think: I could be President. No such thought would have occurred to this black boy or any other. In fact the white boy is wrong: he doesn't have much chance either of becoming President. Unless he has money, the right contacts or education, he too will be excluded. Racism is real enough in the United States, but exclusion is not based on race alone. There may be proportionately less Negroes than whites among the included; and Negroes are, of course, "last to be hired, first to be fired." But the number of excluded whites is vast. The three criteria for upward mobility apply brutally to black and white everywhere.

Let me make one thing clear: I am not saying that the goal is for Negroes and other excluded persons to be allowed to join the middle-class mainstream of American society as we see it today. Aside from the fact that at least some Negroes don't want that, such inclusion is impossible under present circumstances. For a real end to exclusion in American society, that society would have to be so radically changed that the goal cannot really be defined as inclusion. "They talk about participating in the mainstream," said a Brooklyn College faculty member recently at a teach-in on the anti-poverty program, "when they don't realize that the mainstream is the very cause of their troubles."

Education is one major form (and means) of exclusion; politics is another. Who plays politics in this country? People who have one of the three qualifications for inclusion. They tell us: "Register to vote and take over the political machines." But this is farcical; the only people who take over the machines are other political mechanics.

If there is doubt about the existence of exclusion from politics, the passage of the 1965 Voting Act should have established it. That legislation passed only because most Americans had finally recognized that such exclusion did exist. Readers familiar with the congressional challenge of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party will remember the exclusion—political and even physical—experienced by that group of Southern Negroes. But most Americans do not see that the Voting Act hasn't solved the problem. Recent reports of the Civil Rights Commission and other groups point up the need for more federal examiners and the need to inform Negroes of their rights if the Act is to be meaningful. Yet the attitude of the Justice Department suggests that the government is not yet willing to take the initiative necessary for registering Negroes who are not already free from fear and aware of their rights.

The three criteria mentioned here—money, who you know, and especially education—are what people mean when they use the word qualified. After the Watts uprising, committees were assigned to study the causes and make recommendations. These were composed of the "experts on Negroes," the "qualified." I am not opposed to the presence on such committees of intellectuals and professionals or merely making a parallel objection to poverty boards that don't include the poor. My objection is to the basic approach, which excludes the unqualified.

Again, the Southern Negro is not unique but a microcosm. He has been shamed into distrusting his own capacity to grow and lead and articulate. He has been shamed from birth by his skin, his poverty, his ignorance and even his speech. Whom does he see on television? Who gets projected in politics? The Lindsays and the Rockefellers and even the Martin Luther Kings—but not the Fannie Lou Hamers.* That is why it was so important to project her during the MFDP challenge. Sharecroppers can identify with her. She opens up the hope that they too can be projected, because she says all the things that they have been saying to themselves—but she is heard. Mrs. Hamer's significance is very different from Dr. King's. One hears white people say of Dr. King: "He is so intelligent, so articulate." Of Mrs. Hamer they say: "What a beautiful soul"—implying that she lacks analytical intelligence. To some extent, and sadly, Mrs. Hamer has come to accept this vision of herself. Those who know her, and others like her, feel that her intelligence is just as great and her analysis as sharp. But Dr. King has one of the three qualifications—education. This is no criticism of the man, but of the society.

When SNCC first went to work in Lowndes County, Alabama, I—a "qualified" person by virtue of my college education—used to say to the black people there that they should register to vote and then make their voices heard. They could assert their rights, take over the power structure. This was the prescription of the qualified. But these people said they didn't want to do that; they did not think they could; they did not even want to enter a machine headed by George Wallace. To them politics meant Wallace, Sheriff Jim Clark. and Tom Coleman, who had been accused of the murder of Jonathan Daniels. To them the Democratic Party didn't mean L.B.J., but a crew of racist bullies and killers. Entering politics meant, until last summer, confronting the tools of Wallace: the county registrars who had flunked Negroes consistently for years.

They asked if something different could not be created. They wanted to redefine politics, make up new rules, and play the game with some personal integrity. Out of a negative force, fear, grew the positive drive to think new. SNCC's research department provided the tool: an unusual Alabama law.

Local "freedom parties" are now being organized in ten counties stretching across Alabama's Black Belt, with plans to do this in twelve more counties. Together, they contain 40 per cent of the potential state vote. Given the Flowers-Wallace contest,* which must come, the balance of power could lie with those counties. But the true excitement of this development lies in what it means for the people themselves.

The meetings of the executive committees of these county parties are open. The parties will hold county conventions and draw up platforms in April 1966. Later, candidates will be nominated who must support those platforms. In conventional politics it is the candidates who spell out the platform (i.e., make promises); in Alabama candidates won't have to out-promise each other, but simply represent.

Right now, workshops are being held to prepare for the future: 150 black Alabamans have already learned about the duties of a county sheriff and a tax assessor, with more to come. Very few citizens anywhere in this country know what such duties are.

Some say it is romantic to place faith in "the masses" as a force for radical change. But the people who say this are the "qualified." Alabama Negroes are beginning to believe they don't need to be qualified to get involved in politics. People long accustomed to self-contempt are beginning to believe in their own voice.

Others might say we are leading the black people of Alabama down the road to frustration. Perhaps power politics will eventually overwhelm the freedom parties and the would-be Negro sheriffs. But there are reasons why this might not happen in Alabama. In counties with Negro majorities, there could be a black sheriff elected next year. Even a Governor Wallace will have to deal with him. SNCC learned from the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party experience that the Southern Negro doesn't have to cast his lot with the national Democratic Party in order to be recognized as a force which must be dealt with. The Johnson administration pushed through the Voting Act on the assumption that Negroes would automatically line up with its party, but their allegiance is not quite guaranteed. In New York they cast crucial votes for Lindsay, and in the South both Democrats and Republicans are now vying for the Negro vote.

I have hope for this nation, but it is not based on the idea of an American consensus favorable to progress; James Baldwin's idea of the Negro as the conscience of the country is closer to the truth. The majority view is a lie, based on a premise of an upward mobility that doesn't exist for most Americans. They may think the government is at least dealing with basic problems (racial injustice, poverty), but it cannot solve them when it starts from the wrong premise.

The status quo persists because there are no ways up from the bottom. When improvements within the system have been made, they resulted from pressure—pressure from below. Nothing has been given away; governments don't hand out justice because it's a nice thing to do. People must struggle and die first: Goodman, Schwerner, and Chaney, and, in the county where I am working, Mrs. Viola Liuzzo and Jonathan Daniels.

President Johnson's concept of the Great Society is preposterous. The definition comes from him, as does the means of entering that society. Excluded people must acquire the opportunity to redefine what the Great Society is, and then it may have meaning. I place my own hope for the United States in the growth of belief among the unqualified that they are in fact qualified: they can articulate and be responsible and hold power.

Power and Racism

One of the tragedies of the struggle against racism is that up to now there has been no national organization that could speak to the growing militancy of young black people in the urban ghetto. There has been only a civil rights movement, whose tone of voice was adapted to an audience of liberal whites. It served as a sort of buffer zone between them and angry young blacks. None of its so-called leaders could go into a rioting community and be listened to. In a sense, I blame ourselves—together with the mass media—for what has happened in Watts, Harlem, Chicago, Cleveland, and Omaha. Each time the people in those cities saw Martin Luther King get slapped, they became angry; when they saw four little black girls bombed to death, they were angrier; and when nothing happened, they were steaming. We had nothing to offer that they could see, except to go out and be beaten again. We helped to build their frustration.

For too many years, black Americans marched and had their heads broken and got shot. They were saying to the country, "Look, you guys are supposed to be nice guys and we are only going to do what we are supposed to do—why do you beat us up, why don't you give us what we ask, why don't you straighten yourself out?" After years of this, we are at almost the same point—because we demonstrated from a position of weakness. We cannot be expected any longer to march and have our heads broken in order to say to whites: Come on, you're nice guys. For you are not nice guys. We have found you out.

An organization which claims to speak for the needs of a community—as does the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee—must speak in the tone of that community, not as somebody else's buffer zone. This is the significance of Black Power as a slogan. For once, black people are going to use the words they want to use—not just the words whites want to hear. And they will do this no matter how often the press tries to stop the use of the slogan by equating it with racism or separatism.

An organization which claims to be working for the needs of a community—as SNCC does—must work to provide that community with a position of strength from which to make its voice heard. This is the significance of Black Power beyond the slogan.

Black Power can be clearly defined for those who do not attach the fears of white America to their questions about it. We should begin with the basic fact that black Americans have two problems: they are poor and they are black. All other problems arise from this two-sided reality: lack of education, the so-called apathy of black men. Any program to end racism must address itself to that double reality.

Almost from its beginning, SNCC sought to address itself to both conditions with a program aimed at winning political power for impoverished Southern blacks. We had to begin with politics because black Americans are a propertyless people in a country where property is valued above all. We had to work for power, because this country does not function by morality, love, and nonviolence, but by power. Thus we determined to win political power, with the idea of moving on from there into activity that would have economic effects. With power, the masses could make or participate in making the decisions which govern their destinies, and thus create basic change in their day-to-day lives.

But if political power seemed to be the key to self-determination, it was also obvious that the key had been thrown down a deep well many years earlier. Disenfranchisement, maintained by racist terror, made it impossible to talk about organizing for political power in 1960. The right to vote had to be won, and SNCC workers devoted their energies to this from 1961 to 1965. They set up voter registration drives in the Deep South. They created pressure for the vote by holding mock elections in Mississippi in 1963 and by helping to establish the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party (MFDP) in 1964. That struggle was eased, though not won, with the passage of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. SNCC workers could then address themselves to the question: Who can we vote for, to have our needs met—how do we make our vote meaningful?

SNCC had already gone to Atlantic City for recognition of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party by the Democratic convention and been rejected; it had gone with the MFDP to Washington for recognition by Congress and been rejected. In Arkansas, SNCC helped thirty Negroes to run for school board elections; all but one were defeated, and there was evidence of fraud and intimidation sufficient to cause their defeat. In Atlanta, Julian Bond ran for the state legislature and was elected—twice—and unseated—twice. In several states, black farmers ran in elections for agricultural committees which make crucial decisions concerning land use, loans, etc. Although they won places on a number of committees, they never gained the majorities needed to control them.

All of the efforts were attempts to win Black Power. Then, in Alabama, the opportunity came to see how blacks could be organized on an independent party basis. An unusual Alabama law provides that any group of citizens can nominate candidates for county office, and if they win 20 per cent of the vote, may be recognized as a county political party. The same then applies on a state level. SNCC went to organize in several counties, such as Lowndes, where black people—who form 80 per cent of the population and have an average annual income of $943—felt they could accomplish nothing within the framework of the Alabama Democratic Party because of its racism and because the qualifying fee for the 1966 elections was raised from $50 to $500 in order to prevent most Negroes from becoming candidates. On May 3, 1966, five new county "freedom organizations" convened and nominated candidates for the offices of sheriff, tax assessor, members of the school boards.* Their ballot symbol was the black panther: a bold, beautiful animal, representing the strength and dignity of black demands today. A man needs a black panther on his side when he and his family must endure—as hundreds of Alabamans have endured—loss of job, eviction, starvation, and sometimes death for political activity. He may also need a gun, and SNCC reaffirms the right of black men everywhere to defend themselves when threatened or attacked. As for initiating the use of violence, we hope that such programs as ours will make that unnecessary; but it is not for us to tell black communities whether they can or cannot use any particular form of action to resolve their problems. Responsibility for the use of violence by black men, whether in self-defense or initiated by them, lies with the white community.

This is the specific historical experience from which SNCC's call for Black Power emerged on the Mississippi march in July 1966. But the concept of Black Power is not a recent or isolated phenomenon: it has grown out of the ferment of agitation and activity by different people and organizations in many black communities over the years. Our last year of work in Alabama added a new concrete possibility. In Lowndes County, for example, Black Power will mean that if a Negro is elected sheriff, he can end police brutality. If a black man is elected tax assessor, he can collect and channel funds for the building of better roads and schools serving black people—thus advancing the move from political power into the economic arena. In such areas as Lowndes, where black men have a majority, they will attempt to use it to exercise control. This is what they seek: control. Where Negroes lack a majority, Black Power means proper representation and sharing of control. It means the creation of power bases from which black people can work to change statewide or nationwide patterns of oppression through pressure from strength—instead of weakness. Politically, Black Power means what it has always meant to SNCC: the coming-together of black people to elect representatives and to force those representatives to speak to their needs. It does not mean merely putting black faces into office. A man or woman who is black and from the slums cannot be automatically expected to speak to the needs of black people. Most of the black politicians we see around the country today are not what SNCC means by Black Power. The power must be that of a community, and emanate from there.

SNCC today is working in both North and South on programs of voter registration and independent political organizing. In some places, such as Alabama, Los Angeles, New York, Philadelphia, and New Jersey, independent organizing under the black panther symbol is in progress. The creation of a national "black panther party" must come about; it will take time to build, and it is much too early to predict its success. We have no infallible master plan and we make no claim to exclusive knowledge of how to end racism; different groups will work in their own different ways. SNCC cannot spell out the full logistics of self-determination, but it can address itself to the problem by helping black communities define their needs, realize their strength, and go into action along a variety of lines which they must choose for themselves. Without knowing all the answers, it can address itself to the basic problem of poverty, to the fact that in Lowndes County 86 white families own 90 per cent of the land. What are black people in that county going to do for jobs; where are they going to get money? There must be reallocation of land, of money.

About the Author

Stokely Carmichael was born in Trinidad and grew up in New York City and Washington, D.C. While at Howard University, from which he graduated in 1964, he was active in local civil rights and the Nonviolent Action Group. He worked with the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee from 1960, and was SNCC chairman in 1966. In 1967 he traveled extensively throughout Africa and Third World countries. He returned to the United States to organize the first Black United Front, in Washington, D.C. In 1968 until 1969, when he resigned for ideological reasons, Mr. Carmichael served as Prime Minister of the Black Panther Party. Since 1970 he has lived with his wife, the African singer Miriam Makeba, in Conakry, Guinea.