Black Men: They Could be Heroes - Part 2

By Elizabeth Wright

[Reprinted from Issues & Views Fall 1993]

The loss of male authority and guidance has exaggerated the role that politicians and other outsiders are expected to play, enlarging their powers among blacks. For blacks, politics has become a drug. And when all problems are labeled "political," even the misbehavior of children, one can expect to solve them only in the political arena.

The experience of black Americans should be instructive, to one and all and for generations to come, as evidence of what happens when men lose their moral authority in the affairs of their own community. As black youngsters spin out of control, grasping at all the wrong methods to attain the recognition that would be theirs in stable family life, they have become menaces even to themselves. Not only are wild, unruly boys failed by the adults around them, they learn early that black men, especially, haven't a clue about how to get a handle on the unremitting social decline.

Earlier this year [1993], in Chicago, for example, a group of black men participated in a series of so-called summit meetings with members of street gangs. The gang leaders were encouraged to declare "truces" to limit their "war" on the community. They signed, along with neighborhood dignitaries, documents called "peace treaties." All of this formal ceremony took place, as the youth were treated as diplomats or heads of state. Meanwhile, in another city, a group of black men, aiming to stem local violence, formed a "rap" group, appropriating the children's own symbols of rebellion. This was done, they explained, so they might better "relate" to the youth. These and similar antics are being duplicated in cities around the country.

What more pathetic demonstrations could there be of the black man's total failure as a moral voice? Here are wayward boys who, at the very least need to have their ears boxed, and at the most, ought to be disciplined and punished by tough, caring men. Instead, it is the boys who have the upper hand and call the shots in their new-found self-importance, while making their elders look like fools. Worse, such accommodating behavior on the part of adults sends clear signals to black youth, who find fewer and fewer men to respect, that they will be rewarded after committing even the most heinous offenses. These boys are without fathers, grandfathers or uncles to observe and emulate, and the men whose tactics are recounted above do nothing to increase their youthful regard for black men. Where can any community expect to end up when the masses of its men no longer command the respect of its sons? When most of its youth grow to perceive male authority as hollow and feeble and, often, even laughable?

Black Men Were Producers

None of the men cited above are in a position to offer any economic alternatives to these boys, because they have created nothing of economic value. Most who participated in the "treaty" signings were church pastors, others described themselves as "community activists." Not one man in the bunch was in a position to take a boy under his wing and offer him a job.

Such was not always the case among blacks. The sons of Isaiah Montgomery, for example, knew the power of a father's authority, as they watched him and relatives, in the late 1880s, carve the town of Mound Bayou, Mississippi, out of a wilderness. So did the sons of businessmen Philip Payton, George Whitelaw Lewis, John Merrick, Joseph Lee, William Pettiford, John Mitchell, S.B. Fuller, and countless others whose names are lost to history. So did the sons of farmers and craftsmen and cooks and butlers. These men were not confused about the roles they were obligated to play in the protection and sustenance of their families.

Those businessmen among them took risks, using their money and expertise to develop the communities in which they lived, even during the worst days of hostility toward our race. They did so not because it was considered the "courageous" thing to do, but because this is what was expected of them, this is what men did. And the boys watched and learned from what they saw, and knew what would be expected of them one day. They saw black men as creators, producers, and initiators of opportunities, instead of as passive agents awaiting some inevitable fate.

Escape to the Church

The writer of Ecclesiastes asks, "For whom am I toiling and depriving myself of pleasure?" Our black men once had a ready answer to that question. If so many of them no longer know how to answer this question, it might very well be due to the legacy of the civil rights movement and to its ideas and stratagems that have been forcefully transmitted by the black church for the past 30 years. Few institutions in this country have a nobler image than the black church. Endlessly praised for its early role in providing blacks with a refuge in an antagonistic world, it is generally considered off limits to close inspection or criticism.

It was not off limits, however, in the early 1900s, to Booker T. Washington's piercing scrutiny. In fact, one of the reasons why Washington was resented by the elites of his day was the laserlike probe he turned on the various hypocrisies of certain blacks, and his no-nonsense assessment of them. When it came to the disproportionate numbers of black men who became "preachers" or took to politics for a living, he could be merciless in his criticism. He publicly lamented the loss to the race of its most vigorous and ambitious men, who chose these easier paths to esteem and financial comfort.

Washington claimed that as soon as some black men "halfway learn to read and write," they grabbed a Bible and ran to open a church, or they took to the political stump. Or they did both. He viewed this behavior as setting a precedent that could ultimately weaken the race. For, instead of playing economically productive roles, as did their counterparts in other ethnic groups, such men removed themselves from the critical task of economic development. As solo operators, and heads of their own little private church entities, they thus avoided the risks of economic competition with other men. Once they established a constituency of loyal followers, they could confidently look forward to some degree of prestige and a dependable income.

Washington decried this "escape to the church," which usually included some heroic notions about finding grand solutions to the race problem. He was alarmed by the fact that the minds of a great many blacks were so "filled with the traditions of the anti-slavery struggle," that it prevented them from "preparing for any definite task in the world." Instead, he complained, large numbers fixed on the idea of "preparing themselves to solve the race problem." Because of the tradition of riding the circuit to preach abolition, there was already a strong tendency among many black men to view themselves as heirs to the great abolitionists, such as Frederick Douglass, and to emulate these figures as a route to glory and prominence.

Over the years, Washington developed friendships with numbers of black ministers, several of whom he admired and respected. But that did not cloud his judgment about what was really at the bottom of why so many men chose this profession, this "safe haven" away from competition. One year, when he was on a train ride from Alabama to Washington, DC, his train was boarded by a couple of dozen black preachers who, apparently, were on the way to the capital for a church convention. They filled the car with laughter and high spirits, as they dined on home made lunches, smoked, played cards, drank bootleg liquor, and engaged in telling coarse, off-color jokes. In observing this behavior and listening to their conversation, it struck Washington that almost anybody "who took a mind to it" could be a preacher.

He was reminded of a joke about a poor farmer then making the rounds. It seems that the farmer, after spending years with his mule plowing hard, unyielding soil in the hot sun for long hours every day, decided he had had enough of such labor. One day he put down his plow and looked to the sky and proclaimed, "Oh, God, this sun is so hot, and this ground is so hard, I do believe this Negro is called to preach." Could it be our misfortune that, almost a century later, so many black men are still dropping the plow and hearing the "call" to preach?

The King Legacy

Unlike black businessmen, black preachers are numerous and everywhere. In some cities, black-owned newspapers fill several pages, not only with listings of all the black churches in town (along with each pastor's photo), but also with announcements of ordinations (recently completed and forthcoming). In the 1950s, sociologist E. Franklin Frazier discussed the question of whether the Negro population was "over-churched." The subject is still as pertinent today. In terms of its most prominent and wealthiest members, American blacks could be called "a race of athletes, entertainers and preachers." A group with a minuscule number of entrepreneurs, it is understandable why its members are totally dependent on others for employment.

From early on, there were blacks expressing the concern that every time a black man built a church, instead of a business, he established his own personal "cathedral of commerce," to benefit himself and a few others. In recent years, it has been pointed out that if the same percentage of the country's Asian men were to take to the pulpit, the political stump, the basketball court, or the entertainment stage, the masses of Asians would find themselves on the bottom of the economic barrel. Ditto for Greeks, Poles, et. al.

The fact of Martin Luther King, Jr.'s singular success as heralded preacher plays no small part in the decisions of new generations of men to enter his profession. In an earlier period, the abolitionist was to be emulated, today it is the civil rights leader.

The precedent set by King to downplay the importance of economic independence, as he pushed for integration into white institutions, is fundamental to the ongoing decline of the black masses. Despite the sometimes intense differences of opinion among blacks over writer Shahrazad Ali's two books on black men and women, she has correctly assessed the implications of King's legacy. Shahrazad charges that King's very agenda, that is, encouraging blacks to take the final steps to dismantle all we had built together, has "ended up being the very foundation of the problems blacks face today." In a stinging appraisal of King's message, she points out a number of reasons why King makes a poor role model for today's young black men.

Since the King movement was defined by whites as "non-violent," those who opposed his strategies were viewed as possibly being for violence. However, many opposed King for his promotion of what historian Harold Cruse calls "non-economic liberalism." This year, a researcher's op-ed article describes King, speaking before a group of whites in the 1960s, sounding almost apologetic. As if to reassure his white audience that the drive for integration would not be deterred, he explained that it might be necessary to "temporarily" maintain some black businesses and schools "to prevent the loss of economic power that could result from complete integration."

So, the Great Leader recognized that integration, which meant the inevitable destruction of black cultural life (an important unifying force), could mean the loss of economic power for his people. Yet he went on to drop the original call for desegregation and became integration's most persistent proponent. The question is, how much did he know (or surmise) and when did he know it?

King Just Like Other Leaders

Contrary to what some would have us believe, everything about King's public history indicates that he probably would be in support of much of civil rights policy that has transpired over the past 30 years—including the mass of affirmative action laws and biased quota stipulations. Eager to protect the Hero's image, King advocates prefer to believe that he would have taken routes different from those of the current opportunistic civil rights crew, most of whose efforts benefit the already privileged black middle class. Citing King's call for the judging of individuals by the "content of character," his champions claim that those who now wear his mantle would not have King's blessing.

But, the dubious and artificial role of "civil rights leader," a post to which no one gets elected, requires the constant nurturing of all kinds of bedfellows, if power is to be retained. Faced as Benjamin Chavis was with a withering membership, when he took over the NAACP earlier this year, King too would have been compelled to turn to manipulative interest groups, such as feminists, homosexuals, and others, and to consort even with gang members, in efforts to expand his organizational base.

As a faithful follower of the agendas set by white liberals, there is no reason to believe that King would not have joined with those who are responsible for encouraging the almost daily appearance of a new group of people who style themselves as "victims." Unlike earlier black leaders, King helped to fix in the public mind the notion of blacks as victims.

Also, unlike earlier leaders, who had encouraged blacks to develop commerce among ourselves, King's ignorance (or ideology?) led him to scorn business and commerce, for the same reasons offered by various types of collectivists. Whatever were his ideological commitments, King's preachments helped to make economic dependency a respectable option for blacks. Along with white liberals and radicals, he encouraged blacks to think of the world's store of goods as holdings to be allocated by a kindly government. Far from encouraging blacks to take economic initiatives, King was among the most politically correct when it came to advocating the redistribution of other people's income.

It matters not what motives were at play here, the result is that black men were not only economically emasculated, they were taught that playing an economically aggressive role was antithetical to black progress—since the goal of integration with whites was paramount. Shahrazad charges that King introduced black men to "voluntary masochism," actually requiring them to exhibit weakness, in order to demonstrate loyalty to the "cause."

It is this non-economic approach to black problems, as preached by King, which ultimately led to the loss of black men's authority within their own communities--for there is a vital link between economic dominance and credible authority. The 1960s should have been the beginnings of our most economically creative period in America. Instead, blacks were encouraged to leave such tasks to others and to settle for the fruits to be gained in the long, unpredictable march to "equality."

Looking to Others

A favorite saying among those who wish to rationalize male abandonment of families is a maxim attributed to Africa: "It takes a whole village to raise a child." In the context of the United States, what this really means is, it takes the resources from the white man's village (welfare, AFDC, food stamps, Medicaid, public housing) to raise the black man's child. Some of our more skilled cop-out artists claim that, in order to find solutions to black social problems, "We must take them to another level." This really means that we should divest ourselves of responsibility for these problems and turn them over to others. Such attitudes are reflected in two separate incidents during the 1992 Presidential campaign.

At one of candidate Ross Perot's "town meetings," a black woman rose to ask his advice on how citizens might handle the crime and general mayhem that prevails in so many "minority" neighborhoods. Suddenly turned into a "Daddy" figure by this woman, Perot appeared momentarily perplexed. Could it be that he restrained himself from responding, "If you don't know what to do, lady, how should I?" At a similar event presided over by candidate Bill Clinton, a black man, sounding emotional and looking a bit teary-eyed, begged Clinton for advice on what to do about the crime being committed by "urban" youth.

The loss of male authority and guidance has exaggerated the role that politicians and other outsiders are expected to play, enlarging their powers among blacks. For blacks, politics has become a drug. And when all problems are labeled "political," even the misbehavior of children, one can expect to solve them only in the political arena. Those closest to the problem are conveniently absolved of responsibility for finding solutions. And, by further claiming that all problems are "universal" and not particular, even men's abandonment of children, no personal responsibility should even be expected.

The Cop-Outs Continue

In their zeal to offer excuses for their own inaction, black militants join with middle class elites in standing truth on its head. Whenever one of their excuses for failing to engage in economic competition is shown for the fraudulent cop-out it is, they set about contriving more elaborate ones. "We must aspire to a higher Afrocentrist ideal, unsullied by materialistic greed," says the militant. And, have you heard this one? "We are too noble to participate in the system that raped Africa and the Third World."

While this militant/nationalist/Afrocentrist continues to expend his energy shouting obscenities at the white man or joining with elites to extort some new quota-based perk, another industrious Asian buys a building on his block. It is a given that white and Asian men are obligated to create jobs for black men. Only members of these groups are expected to pool resources and take the risks necessary to enlarge the economic pie. It is not even suggested, for example, that the itinerant preacher, Jesse Jackson, would do better by his race as the owner of a manufacturing plant that generates enough wealth to employ others.

What Might Have Been?

Imagine the different course we might now be on if, in the 1960s, Rap Brown, Stokely Carmichael, Eldridge Cleaver, Bobby Seale and Huey Newton had been on fire to make manifest the economic strategies of Booker T. Washington and Marcus Garvey—instead of resorting to temper tantrums in their symbiotic dance with the white man. What might have come of a movement led by thousands of militant men who chose to put their righteous indignation to work as builders, rather than as destroyers?

Of course, such fantasizing presupposes a militant mindset devoid of Marxist pretensions and free from the influence of white radicals. The militants shrewdly deduced, as did the followers of King, that political confrontation with whites was the easier road to take over economic competition. Yet a nationalist idol of the militants, as early as the 1850s, enjoined black men to take just the opposite course. "Let each one make the case his own and endeavor to rival his neighbor in honorable competition," intoned Martin Delany. After declaring that the means to develop manhood were within the reach of black men, he then asked, "Are we willing to try them?"

Following the Liberals

Black preachers, politicians and civil rights leaders form a strong, protective circle. The politician supports the civil rights defender, who, in turn, advances the agendas of the politician, and the preacher, from his pulpit, advances the causes of both. Black preachers are notorious for their blind support of black politicians, and are often accused of acting as "fronts." One day, in a Washington, DC delicatessen, customers chuckled among themselves, as they were subjected to a radio commercial by someone who identified himself as pastor of a local church. He exhorted listeners to vote for the former Mayor Marion Barry, a man who had just returned to politics after a stint in jail for using drugs.

All of these crusaders invoke the name of King and other civil rights martyrs, to remind blacks of the humiliations suffered to win the vote and to integrate white institutions. To be subservient to the agendas and dictates of people like Kweisi Mfume, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton, and the hundreds of self-styled "leaders" just like them across the country, is to demonstrate loyalty to King. As the last 30 years prove, this controlling device works. The ghost of King is responsible for the continued support of some of the most retrograde social policies.

Most of these worthies are not leaders at all. They wait as they observe societal trends and follow accordingly. As knee-jerk supporters of every cause espoused by white liberals, they make each of these causes their own. Although much of liberal policy has helped to undermine and destroy the last vestiges of the black family, these loyalists remain undaunted.

White Causes Need a Black Constituency

Making common cause and alliances even with the morally depraved is considered "shrewd politics." NAACP functionaries and a great many black pastors fell right in line with the liberal-inspired policy of pushing condoms on children. The rise of Joycelyn Elders epitomizes this tendency to mimic all things liberal. In her silly mock Admiral's costume, adorned with medal and military ribbons, this caricature preaches her message of promiscuous sex to a generation of children who have already lost so much of the uniqueness of childhood. A comical figure, Elders never misses the opportunity to repeat her favorite memorized line: "We've taught our kids how to behave in the front seat of a car; now let's teach them how to behave in the back seat."

Since the civil rights game initially revolved around blacks, whites surmised that, in order to give a particular cause the image of being part of the Universal Moral Struggle, they must enlist a circle of blacks. From abortionists to environmentalists to feminists and homosexuals, there is sure to be an auxiliary of blacks who lend their voices to the latest white-inspired crusade.

Black leaders do not hesitate to fight fellow blacks on such issues as forced school busing, even deploying legal swat teams to do so. In fact, due to their ties to white teachers unions, these leaders are forced to oppose the establishment of independent schools, especially for black boys. William Kilpatrick, in Why Johnny Can't Tell Right From Wrong: Moral Illiteracy and the Case for Character Education, traces historically the importance of all-male schools run by men, and criticizes attempts by feminist ideologues and others to undermine efforts to maintain such schools today. In The Endangered Black Family, sociologist Nathan Hare describes cases in which white feminists have marshaled black women to stymie attempts to create schools for boys, as blacks are pulled into what he calls the "uni-sexual, anti-family" movement.

With so many of our youth in trouble, blacks should have been among the first to protest the removal of prayer from the schools, and should have vigorously opposed the distribution of condoms, to further instigate sex among children. Instead, black elites were among the earliest and easiest co-opted by liberal "educators."

As has long been maintained, civil rights organizations and those who earn their livings supposedly fighting for so-called civil rights causes, no longer have a place in American society. But we can expect such people to remain intact for decades to come. The experience of Peter Collier can be compared to those blacks whose lives are still focused on the drive for "civil rights."

In Destructive Generation: Second Thoughts About the '60s, Collier, former 1960s radical editor of Ramparts magazine, tells of the fear that gripped him as an anti-war activist, when it appeared that there might be a cessation to the Vietnam war. He says he was terrified by the thought, "What if it ends?" Because his whole being was so thoroughly tied to the cause of "fighting injustice" he hardly knew where he left off and where the cause began. He claims that after the war ended, like many of his movement friends, he felt "cast adrift." His involvement in the anti-war movement had actually defined him, so who was he now?

Collier's experience can be directly applied to those blacks who possess no identity outside of The Struggle. Like the anti-war radical, if the mission were to end, where would they go to get a life? But, unlike the anti-war radical, the civil rights activist discovered that, through intimidation of a compliant and easily coerced American society, he could keep his "war" alive forever.

Who Loses If Blacks Win?

It is in no one's interest for blacks ever to leave the sinkhole of poverty, or to form a robust, healthy business class. It's obviously not in the interest of those who are part of the immense social service industry—the endless stream of social workers, counselors, and growing numbers of "experts."

It's not in the interest of civil rights organizations, whose administrators earn their bread off the needy masses. Nor is it in the interest of the black middle class whose members hold up the poor to demand ever more special privileges for themselves.

The end of a black underclass would not be in the interest of academics, for whom the distressed poor provide fodder for their ever-so-clever theses, monographs, doctorates, journal articles, books, and inventive, kinky courses. A strong black business class certainly is not in the interest of politicians, black or white. The black politician, especially, is dismayed by the prospect of a strongly developed class of entrepreneurs as potential usurpers of his power and authority.

A world devoid of poor blacks is not in the interest of the mainstream media, for whom our troubles provide the most titillating morsels for those nightly news/entertainment shows and those grim serialized features that fill the pages of newspapers and magazines. The loss of an underclass is not in the interest of the increasing numbers of black entertainers whose music, routines, characterizations and talk shows are built around the existence of black pathologies.

A Few Good Men

All it would take to begin the reversal of our community's decline are a few good men. Men determined, first, to stand up to the preachers, politicians and civil rights demagogues—all the bullies who are kept in place primarily through the white liberals' propaganda machine. Men ready to galvanize blacks to begin operating in our own best interests. Men who are ready to help return us to that time in our history, when economics was at the top of the agenda and it was considered imperative to learn and master the workings of the marketplace. At the heart of Booker T. Washington's vision was an ever-increasing proportion of well-trained men and women prepared to create their own economic niches, where they would play a necessary role in the country's economic growth.

Black men could lead in pressing for the kinds of "rights" all Americans deserve--like the right for every parent to choose his or her children's schools, and the right to be free of government regulations that restrict access to the marketplace by those on the bottom rungs of the economic ladder. A few good men could rupture the dominance of a leadership of elites dedicated to their own preservation. The undermining of this leadership would strip white liberals and radicals of their base of operation among blacks.

Spiritual and Economic Health Linked

In spite of the many charlatans who proliferate in the church, men who are genuinely committed to the Christian Gospel, and believe in its power to transform, need not feel affronted by candid admonishments and criticism. The time has come, however, for blacks to reflect on the many people who have entered the church "trade" for all the wrong reasons and, unfortunately, wield a disproportionate amount of power.

In the current cultural climate, where the education system, the all-encompassing media, and even some members of the clergy are diligently striving to bring about a society emptied of conventional values, personal religious faith is more critical than ever. As mainstream society veers away from the security of traditional religious anchors, and nurtures forces determined to destroy long-cherished supports, blacks are greatly affected.

Booker T. Washington was not the first to acknowledge the link between the economic and spiritual. He repeatedly emphasized how closely the "moral and spiritual interests" are interwoven with a group's "material and economical welfare." Strengthening our resolve to ground our families in traditional moral principles will better prepare us to compete on all fronts, including the economic one. "

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