In honor of tomorrow’s holiday, I’m going to tell the story of Martin Luther King’s Letter from Birmingham Jail.
MLK’s letter rests in the grand tradition of non-violent prison literature. During the Indian freedom struggle, Gandhi, Vinoba, and Nehru wrote entire books. Nehru even wrote a textbook of world history, from memory, as letters to his daughter. (#badass)
King had been imprisoned for violating a protest ban during the 1963 campaign to desegregate Birmingham, Alabama (great overview here). In jail, he ends up reading a statement in the newspaper (text) by 8 local clergymen (white), condemning the protests as inciting violence and being led by outside agitators.
King responds, defends himself and the movement, and argues that non-violent civil disobedience is the middle path between saying “just wait a little longer for your freedom, black folk” (white moderates) and Black Nationalist violence (black radicals).
The letter is gorgeous, powerful, and well-argued. I want to share a few quotes with you as a shot of inspiration. To remind us of the incredible power of this tradition of seeking to overcome division through Applied Love (ie non-violent direct action).
This is a good thing to focus on today.
I will focus on what we can learn and use now (and forever), rather than the specific historical context.
I encourage you to read each of these quotes out loud, twice. First as yourself, alone, sitting wherever you happen to be. And then second, as if you were speaking to a crowd of thousands, each of whom desperately needed your inspiration.
Got it? Let’s go.
He starts by responding to the claim of being an “outside agitator” by telling the story of how he was invited to Birmingham. Then he goes deeper and says:
I am here because injustice is here… I am compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my home town.
And then he goes deeper, right into inter-being:
I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial “outside agitator” idea.
Boom! Nailed it.
He then patiently explains the formula behind non-violent action.
In any nonviolent campaign there are four basic steps:
- collection of the facts to determine whether injustices are alive,
- negotiation,
- self-purification, and
- direct action.
Then he goes over the historical record to show how they went through the first three steps before starting demonstrations, marches, protests, and boycotts.
I’ve always been interested in this language of self-purification (Major principle for Gandhi) as it relates to political action. Here’s how King explains it:
We were not unmindful of the difficulties involved [in direct action]. So we decided to go through a process of self-purification. We started having workshops on nonviolence and repeatedly asked ourselves the questions, “Are you able to accept blows without retaliating?” and “Are you able to endure the ordeals of jail?”
Not everyone is invited to the party! Not everyone has done The Work.
King then addresses the clergymen’s discomfort with disturbing the peace, and in doing so, illuminates the role of non-violent action in legal change.
You may well ask, “Why direct action, why sit-ins, marches, and so forth? Isn’t negotiation a better path?” You are exactly right in your call for negotiation. Indeed, this is the purpose of direct action. Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and establish such creative tension that a community that has consistently refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks so to dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored.
He then reframes the issue from a contest of strength to a joint undertaking (dialogue):
The purpose of direct action is to create a situation so crisis-packed that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation. We therefore concur with you in your call for negotiation. Too long has our beloved Southland been bogged down in the tragic attempt to live in monologue rather than dialogue.
At every step of the way, King is polite and inclusive.
He sees these people — who are criticizing him as he goes to jail for his beliefs — are potential allies every step of the way. He consistently appeals to their common beliefs and religious traditions, and goes to great length to explicitly assume the best about them, even as he drops the hammer over and over on every single one of their complaints and arguments.
As a literary device, his letter just destroys their position and leaves it in tatters. But I could imagine receiving it and being flattered. And having Zero Confusion that King respected me and wanted to work with me.
This is a very difficult path to walk. Nobody is doing this! But it’s following the Gandhian doctrine to the letter: Criticize the actions without criticizing the person.
It’s also far ahead of it’s time in terms of behavioral science: King is using exclusively positive reinforcement when talking to his “opponents”. He is merciless with their arguments and ever hopeful and complimentary about them. It’s the opposite of the ad hominem attack.
Later in the letter, he responds to their recommendation that the Freedom Struggle “wait” for a better time:
We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have never yet engaged in a direct-action movement that was “well timed” according to the timetable of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “wait.” It rings in the ear of every Negro with a piercing familiarity. This “wait” has almost always meant “never.”
He gives some historical examples (“We have waited for more than three hundred and forty years for our God-given and constitutional rights”) and then hits you in the gut:
…when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old daughter why she cannot go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her little eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see the depressing clouds of inferiority begin to form in her little mental sky, and see her begin to distort her little personality by unconsciously developing a bitterness toward white people…then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.
Okay. Just one last note in the spirit of challenging us. Here is King on being labelled an extremist:
You spoke of our activity in Birmingham as extreme. At first I was rather disappointed that fellow clergymen would see my nonviolent efforts as those of an extremist…
But as I continued to think about the matter, I gradually gained a bit of satisfaction from being considered an extremist. Was not Jesus an extremist in love? — “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you.” …Was not Thomas Jefferson an extremist? — “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.” So the question is not whether we will be extremist, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate, or will we be extremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice, or will we be extremists for the cause of justice?
This holiday is a gift.
It’s an opportunity to spend some time with one of the great successes of the last century, learn how it was done, and emulate it. It was done with strategy, with patience, and with personal sacrifice.
It was done with an extremis of love.
Ankur Shah Delight: Community and Conflict 