Malcolm X_ A Life Of Reinvention Part 10

In Washington, J. Edgar Hoover had grown similarly frustrated with the march of events. False reports concerning the Harlem "hate gang" had reached him, and his suspicion fell on Malcolm, whose rising popularity as a black leader had grown unexpectedly despite his expulsion from the Nation. On Friday, June 5, an irate Hoover sent a Western Union telegram to the Bureau's New York office, with blunt orders: "Do something about Malcolm X enough of this black violence in New York."

Malcolm could have chosen a different path, but something within him sought a final resolution between himself and the Nation of Islam. On a personal level, he was lashing out in anger and grief at the father figure who had betrayed him in the basest way. Yet he had become convinced that the successful propagation of orthodox Islam in the United States would not be possible until Elijah Muhammad's infidelities and the internal corruption of the Nation were thoroughly exposed. What may have also prompted Malcolm was his recognition that the racial separatism he had preached as an NOI minister was counterproductive and that African Americans had to reach out, especially to Third World people, to achieve meaningful social change.

The Nation of Islam had not shied from making its stance plain. Throughout the month of May, Nation leaders and ministers continued to whip up antagonism toward Malcolm at every opportunity. In every NOI mosque, the faithful were obligated to swear fealty to Elijah Muhammad and to denounce Malcolm as a heretic. On May 15 the members of Mosque No. 7 were told that Malcolm was "a hypocrite and a liar." They were reminded that their former minister himself "used to say that he would punch in the mouth anyone saying the wrong thing about Muhammad." In Buffalo, at New York's Mosque No. 23, members were read a letter from Chicago headquarters indicating that back in 1959 Elijah Muhammad had warned Malcolm not to appear on Mike Wallace's program. "The wrath of Allah would be brought down on Malcolm X, the letter predicted, "for his actions in first believing and then not believing in the words of Allah." At Mosque No. 17 in Joliet, Illinois, on May 31, members were warned that Malcolm had advocated gun clubs; therefore, they were advised not to keep firearms around their homes "because the 'devil' [white man] is watching."

In a sense, Malcolm's departure in itself represented a threat to the Nation, and his formation of a new organization that was likely to siphon members prompted a firm response. In May, Raymond Sharrieff had put the Fruit of Islam on guard against any attempt by Malcolm to gain a foothold. At one FOI meeting in Chicago Sharrieff informed members that Malcolm's men were "drafting brothers" into the MMI. If any Fruit were approached, they were required to report back. "We want to discover what Malcolm is up to. If his men say they are Muslims and start trouble, they can make us look bad. Find out everything you can and report it to me right away." The next month, Sharrieff addressed the Mosque No. 7 Fruit membership, telling the crowd that "Elijah Muhammad used to like former minister Malcolm X more than he did his own son, but Malcolm X hurt Elijah Muhammad deeply." Sharrieff then predicted, "Malcolm will soon die out." An FBI informant told the Bureau that Sharrieff had made clear how Malcolm was to be treated: "Big Red is the worst of the lot as a defector. He is a hypocrite and a snake in the gra.s.s. . . . If anyone misuses the name of Elijah Muhammad the Muslims should put their fist in the mouth of the infamy to the elbow."

Whether motivated by strategy, expedience, or something deeper and more personal, in the early days of June Malcolm began to air publicly his grievances against the Nation of Islam. Occasionally, he drew back from this kind of criticism, as if he knew that he was provoking a response he would not be able to contain, but these moments were-like the FBI interview-probably intended to provide himself reasonable cover in his legal quest to keep his home. Yet the attacks, which cut deeply at the Messengers claim of divinity, forced the Nation to a place where retaliation seemed necessary for survival. During the month of June the fight between Malcolm and the Nation of Islam arrived at a point of no return.

On June 6, Malcolm had the opportunity to engage in a Third World dialogue when three j.a.panese writers, representing the Hiroshima/Nagasaki World Peace Study Mission, visited Harlem. All three were hibakusha hibakusha, atomic bomb survivors, and familiar with Malcolm's activities. A reception was held at the Harlem apartment of j.a.panese-American activist Yuri (Mary) Nakahara Kochiyama, who soon joined the OAAU; Malcolm was invited to attend but never responded. A few minutes after the formal program began at two thirty p.m., however, Malcolm showed up, bringing James 67X, who spoke fluent j.a.panese, and several security people. Following the formal presentation, scores of friendly people surrounded him, wanting to shake his hand. Kochiyama recalled that Malcolm said to the j.a.panese delegation, "You have been scarred by the atom bomb. . . . We have also been scarred. The bomb that hit us was racism." Several j.a.panese journalists also attended the event, giving Malcolm a platform. He praised the leadership of Mao Zedong and the government of the People's Republic of China, noting that Mao had been correct to pursue policies favoring the peasantry over the working cla.s.s, because the peasants were responsible for feeding the whole country. He also expressed his opposition to the growing U.S. military engagement in Asia, saying, "The struggle of Vietnam is the struggle of the whole Third World-the struggle against colonialism, neocolonialism, and imperialism."

Several hours later, James 67X boarded a plane bound for the West Coast. His a.s.signment was to obtain the signatures on legal doc.u.ments of several women impregnated by Elijah Muhammad, arranging photographs of the women and setting up interviews with the Los Angeles Herald-Dispatch Los Angeles Herald-Dispatch. James completed the a.s.signment; although the women were prepared to file legal charges against Muhammad, they were extremely reluctant to set forth their accusations in the national media.

The next night Malcolm was scheduled to speak at an MMI rally at the Audubon Ballroom; the event had been advertised as a "Special Report from Africa to the People of Harlem." In the hours before he was to appear, he made many phone calls to female Muslims in an attempt to find others who would corroborate the stories of Muhammad's illicit lovers. Once onstage, prompted by a question from the audience, he declared that the Nation of Islam would commit murder in order to suppress the exposure of Elijah Muhammad's serial infidelities and out-of-wedlock children, and he told the crowd that he knew of the infidelities from the Messengers very own son, Wallace Muhammad. The rally marked the first time that Malcolm set forth, in a detailed manner, the s.e.xual misconduct of Muhammad before a Harlem audience. Given the size of the crowd-about 450 people-several loyal members of Mosque No. 7 were sure to have been present. One can only imagine the fury of Captain Joseph and his enforcers. News of the comments quickly made its way back to Phoenix and Chicago. The next morning, Betty received an anonymous phone call, the first of what would be hundreds of death threats against Malcolm.

The following day Malcolm contacted CBS News, urging the network to air a nationally televised expose of Muhammad. That evening he appeared on the Barry Gray Show Barry Gray Show on New York radio, yet during a fifty-minute-long appearance, he chose not to mention either the out-of-wedlock children or the infidelities. Instead, Malcolm talked about his African tour, describing the continent as the "greatest place on Earth"; he also insisted that there was no difference politically between segregationist governor George Wallace of Alabama and President Lyndon Johnson. on New York radio, yet during a fifty-minute-long appearance, he chose not to mention either the out-of-wedlock children or the infidelities. Instead, Malcolm talked about his African tour, describing the continent as the "greatest place on Earth"; he also insisted that there was no difference politically between segregationist governor George Wallace of Alabama and President Lyndon Johnson.

While he leveled his criticisms against the Nation of Islam, he continued to push his new organization. On June 9 the first decisive organizational meeting of Malcolm's secular political advisers was held at the Riverside Drive apartment of Lynne Shifflett. Unlike previous clandestine discussions, it finally brought together the idealistic young activists and the seasoned Harlem veterans. In the latter group were the historian John Henrik Clarke, the photographer Robert Haggins, the novelist John Oliver Killens, and the journalist Sylvester Leeks. It was Clarke's suggestion to give themselves the name Organization of Afro-American Unity, modeled after the Organization of African Unity, founded on May 25 the previous year. He thought that the OAUs charter might provide a blueprint for the OAAU. This may have been a little ambitious. First, the OAU was a bloc of African nations joining together to achieve strategic objectives, not an ad hoc coalition of individuals. The OAAU was not even a united front of black American groups but resembled more a top-down sect, with Malcolm as charismatic headman. Second, there was little consideration about how decisions would be made and who would be responsible for organizing-and paying for-public events.

Malcolm handled these difficult questions in characteristic manner: by dumping them into James 67Xs lap. Driving over to Shifflett's apartment, he curtly explained to James that "he didn't form" this group, but "he wanted it formed. He told me that I was responsible for it being formed." James immediately sensed trouble, and when he reached Shifflett's his suspicions were quickly confirmed. "I went up to [Shifflett's] apartment there thinking the thing is being formed," he recalled, "and they're sitting around talking about what great organizers each of them is." Malcolm later made Shifflett the OAAUs organizing secretary, a role equivalent to James's for the MMI. Their compet.i.tive positions fostered an animosity so deep that even decades later James 67X could barely utter her name. From the beginning, James recalled, "Malcolm treated them in an entirely different manner than he treated us." The OAAU people never contributed funds "in charity" to help support Betty and the household. MMI loyalists "were accustomed to be told what to do and doing it. We didn't quarrel with Brother Malcolm. If he said such and such, if he hinted hinted at something, I was on it and I told the brothers to do it." at something, I was on it and I told the brothers to do it."

On the same day as the OAAU meeting, Malcolm was the featured guest on a Mike Wallace news program, broadcast by NBC in New York City, on which he emphasized his new position on race-and blamed his "previous antiwhite statements" on his former membership in the Nation of Islam. As the weekend approached, Malcolm prepared to depart for Boston, where that Sunday at Ella's house he was to speak to a large number of potential supporters, including representatives from the National Urban League and CORE. By Friday the public campaign against the Nation had reached fever pitch, and when he appeared on the radio to blame his departure on "a moral problem" within the sect, the show's host told listeners that Malcolm had arrived at the studio under armed guard for fear of attack. Malcolm went into detail on Muhammad's misconduct and reported that Wallace Muhammad had confirmed the behavior that "was still going on." He estimated that Muhammad had at least six out-of-wedlock children. That evening he went on to repeat these charges on the Jerry Williams program, aired in Boston on WMEX radio, and claimed that Louis X had known about them first.

The appearances ratcheted tensions in Boston, but the next morning Malcolm quietly departed the city ahead of schedule; a hastily organized meeting of civil rights insiders and prominent black entertainers at Sidney Poitiers home in upstate New York on June 13 called him away. This meeting was unprecedented in several respects. First, it brought together individuals, or their representatives, who reflected major currents within the Black Freedom Movement. Dr. King, at that moment in a Saint Augustine, Florida, jail for leading desegregation protests in that city, was represented by attorney Clarence Jones, the general counsel for the Gandhi Society for Human Rights; Jones had been "authorized to speak for King." Also in attendance were Whitney Young of the National Urban League, representatives of A. Philip Randolph and CORE, Benjamin Davis of the Communist Party, and artists Ossie Davis, Ruby Dee, and Sidney Poitier. Their conversation was probably focused on ways to build a common agenda between divergent groups within the Black Freedom Movement. It was Malcolm, however, who presented the most attractive proposal: his plan, as Ossie Davis put it, was "to bring the Negro question before the United Nations to internationalize the whole question and bring it before the whole world." The tactic was similar to that of the black communist leader William Patterson, who in the late 1940s sought to present evidence of lynchings and racial discrimination in the United States before the UN. Clarence Jones was taken with this approach, suggesting that they should present their case to the United Nations that September. Malcolm was given the task of contacting those governments in Africa and the Middle East that might be expected to endorse the initiative. His subsequent activities abroad in the second half of 1964 were an attempt to implement this strategy.

Through illegal wiretaps and informants, the FBI was intensely aware of this clandestine meeting. On June 13 the Bureau's New York office teletyped the director that it "consisted of a discussion of [the] general future of [the] civil rights movement in US . . . the best idea presented was subject's idea to internationalize the civil rights movement by taking it to the United Nations." A note attached to this report from the Domestic Intelligence Division dated June 14 indicated that it was being disseminated "to the Department, State, CIA and military intelligence agencies."

In Boston the following day, a crowd of 120 people packed Ella's home to hear Benjamin 2X, whom Malcolm had a.s.signed to replace him. After the meeting, Benjamin set out to fly back to New York. He was accompanied by seven local supporters, who drove a convoy of three automobiles, with Benjamin in the first car. En route, a white Lincoln attempted to crash into the lead car, nearly forcing it off the road. Minutes later, as the convoy entered the Callahan Tunnel, which connects the downtown center to Logan airport, a Chevrolet packed with NOI members sped past Benjamin's car and then attempted to force it into the tunnel's concrete wall. One of the pa.s.sengers in Benjamin's car brandished a shotgun at the would-be a.s.sailants, who then eased back. Still carrying the shotgun for protection, the group entered the airport, where they were promptly arrested before the ticket counter. All eight men were arraigned in East Boston District Court on June 15 and released on one thousand dollars bail each.

The attempted ambush marked the first time that an NOI crew made a serious attempt to wound or kill Malcolm or his key lieutenants in a public setting. Moreover, the Nation recognized that most police departments held such animosity toward Malcolm that they would not aggressively investigate a.s.saults against him or those a.s.sociated with him.

News of the arrests quickly reached Malcolm in New York as he prepared for a Sunday rally at the Audubon. Onstage that night, eight MMI brothers with rifles flanked him as he bluntly laid out the case of Muhammad's s.e.xual misconduct. He also indicated that while he was still in the Nation, he had consulted with Louis X, Captain Joseph, Maceo X, and several others to resolve the scandal privately. Between 1956 and 1962, Elijah Muhammad had "fathered six to seven" out-of-wedlock children, he explained. The Messenger justified his actions by claiming that "Allah told him to do it." Those Malcolm had consulted then "conspired" to expel him from the Nation. By expanding his grievance from Muhammad and the Chicago headquarters to include Louis X and other prominent ministers, Malcolm was declaring war on the entire leadership group of the Nation of Islam.

It was in this toxic atmosphere that the civil suit filed by the Nation was finally heard, the next morning, June 15, in Queens County Civil Court. The trial, which lasted two days, was heard by Judge Maurice Wahl; the Nation was represented by Joseph Williams and Malcolm's attorney was Percy Sutton. Several local newspapers revealed that Malcolm's life recently had been threatened; the NYPD responded by placing thirty-two officers at the trial for his protection. Muslim Mosque, Inc., sent a modest group of ten to the trial, while Mosque No. 7 was represented by a phalanx of fifty Fruit, who stared angrily at Malcolm's people. One of Malcolm's supporters was observed outside the crowded courtroom carrying a rifle. When questioned, he was found to be carrying two unloaded rifles and no ammunition, so no arrest was made.

Malcolm's game plan at the trial was to take advantage of the general lack of interest in Muslim affairs on the part of the white media by suggesting that, contrary to much evidence, he was still a loyal follower of Elijah Muhammad, but his faith had been rewarded with perfidy and betrayal. The Queens house-which he had done nothing to lose-was bought for him and should remain his. At the beginning of his two-hour-long testimony, Malcolm noted that Mosque No. 7 had been incorporated in the state of New York in 1956, that he was one of "the original incorporators," and that his services to that organization had "never been terminated." His central argument was that not only had he not resigned from the Nation of Islam, but "no Muslim minister has ever resigned." He described to the court his relatively recent appointment as acting minister of the Washington, D.C., mosque. The mosque's former minister had been removed from his post, but had been permitted to defend himself in a hearing before the entire congregation, which Malcolm had chaired.

Under cross-examination by NOI attorney Williams, Malcolm argued that Muhammad's involvement in the matter disqualified him from chairing such a committee over his own case. He blamed Captain Joseph for "poisoning the community here to the point where there could not be a hearing. They just put me in limbo until they had a chance to solidify their position with false information and this is why they could never give me a hearing in front of the Muslim[s]."

But Williams was unsatisfied with Malcolm's arguments. "Isn't it a fact," he asked Malcolm, "that the Honorable Elijah Muhammad can remove any minister he wants to?" Malcolm reluctantly agreed, explaining that Muhammad "is a divine man. . . . He always follows the divine religious procedure. He is a stickler . . . it has always been his policy never to handle a person in any way that a person could accuse him of an injustice."

Williams countered "that the Honorable Elijah Muhammad removes ministers with or without cause and that has been the custom since the movement started." Malcolm vigorously disagreed. "No. The Honorable Elijah Muhammad has never removed a minister without cause."

Williams then took a different tack. "When this suspension without cause was taken," he asked, "did you ever seek any legal remedy to restore you to your position?"

"I tried to keep it private," Malcolm replied. "I tried to keep it out of the court and I tried to keep it out of the public and I asked for a hearing in private . . . because there were facts that I thought would be destructive to the Muslim movement."

"You are making it public now," Williams replied.

"Yes," Malcolm acknowledged, "only because they have driven me to the point where I have to tell it in order to protect myself."

"Isn't it a fact that you have organized another mosque?" Williams asked.

Malcolm at first dodged the question, but finally admitted that he had started Muslim Mosque, Inc., "to spread the Honorable Elijah Muhammad's teaching among the twenty-two million non-Muslims."

As Williams continued to hammer away, the framework of Malcolm's argument-that he continued to be a faithful follower of Elijah Muhammad-fell apart. The evidence against him was simply all too plain for anyone willing to look closely. Williams noted, for example, that many MMI members were former NOI members. He pointed out that Malcolm had announced to the press that he was "no longer affiliated" with Mosque No. 7, and that he had renounced the leadership and spiritual authority of Muhammad. Therefore, he concluded, the East Elmhurst duplex rightfully belonged to the Nation of Islam.

But Malcolm wasn't yet ready to concede. He pointed out that he actually held two formal positions within the NOI: minister of Mosque No. 7 and national minister. He had been suspended, technically, as Mosque No. 7's head, but Muhammad had never abolished the national ministers office. He argued that the East Elmhurst residence agreement was exclusively "between me and the Honorable Elijah Muhammad," that the place had been "purchased for me," and that the Messenger "told me the house should be mine." Elijah himself had emphasized that this was truly a gift to him personally: "He told me over and over that it should be in my name, that it was for me because of the work I was doing and had been doing."

Williams tried to undercut this argument by implying that Malcolm had been skimming money from the Nation for years-much of his public speaking honoraria surely had gone into his pocket. He tried to present Malcolm's life in the Nation as a long, cushy ride on the organization's dime, asking, "Isn't it also a fact that every mosque you go to, that the mosque themself [sic] takes care of your expenses?" Malcolm fought back, denying such claims as slanderous, and a.s.serting that the real reason for his "suspension" in December 1963 was due to a "very private" matter. "I never sought to gain anything personally from the Nation of Islam. This is why I lived [at the beginning of his ministry] in a room and then lived in three rooms." But Williams continued to question Malcolm's motives. "Now, sir, when this house was being purchased," he noted, "you were not even around when they met to buy this house. When they had the first discussion in the mosque about the house, you weren't around, were you?" He was astutely using Malcolm's proselytizing travels to establish his lack of interest in the acquisition of the property.

Malcolm must have been in anguish, sitting before a white judge, listening to himself being accused of theft and corruption in an organization for which he once would have gladly sacrificed his life. He could accept many things, but not dishonor. And the legal maneuvering was merely a way of avoiding the central issue, the real reason for the split, which he remained hesitant to bring up on the record. He told Williams that the funds purchasing the residence never came from the incorporated Mosque No. 7; no mosque trustees met to issue a check covering the home's down payment. "It came from the spiritual body from the Muslims."

Then, after nearly two hours, he finally told the court that "the Honorable Elijah Muhammad had taken on nine wives besides the one that he had. . . . This is the reason for my suspension." He emphasized that he had been prepared to keep "the whole thing secret and private if they would give me a hearing. . . . They would rather take the public court than keep it quiet among Muslims."

What Malcolm may not have fully appreciated until the trial was that the ideological campaign against him was turning into a religious jihad, and the issues raised by the Queens trial only increased the tensions between the two camps. On the first day of courtroom proceedings, 180 men attended Mosque No. 7's regular FOI meeting, whose topic was "So What if He [Elijah Muhammad] Is Not All Pure, Look What He Did for You and I [sic]. During this lecture, the speaker a.s.serted, "We should destroy Malcolm." An FOI captain at the meeting-probably Joseph-instructed the Fruit, saying, "Malcolm is not to be touched, the rest is okay"-a statement that amounted to a declaration of open season on any Malcolm loyalist.

The next evening, shortly after eleven p.m., six of Malcolm's followers, believing rumors that their leader had been either kidnapped or murdered, drove to Mosque No. 7, at 102 West 116th Street. The man instigating the confrontation was William George, who was armed with a .30 caliber M-1 carbine rifle containing a clip with thirty rounds of ammunition. Fifty-one-year-old Herbert Dudley, another Malcolmite, brought a 6.75 Beretta rifle. About thirty to thirty-five Nation members rushed out into the street to confront the attackers with improvised weapons of self-defense, such as broom handles. For a few minutes there was a tense standoff, since neither side was prepared to start the hostilities. The NYPD raced to the street scene and largely concurred with the NOI group that Malcolm's people had provoked the incident. The Malcolmites were arrested and their firearms seized. A day later, at Mosque No. 24 in Richmond, Virginia, Minister Nicholas of Washington, D.C., declared that "Malcolm X really should be killed for teaching against Elijah Muhammad."

For as much as the trial and the increasing threats on his life consumed Malcolm, they did not keep him from maintaining a hectic schedule of speeches and organization building. Already he sensed that his days were numbered-"I'm probably a dead man already," he'd candidly told Mike Wallace-and as the summer progressed he pushed through events with great speed, straining to accomplish his goals. He accepted many speaking invitations, including one from Henry Kissinger at Harvard, and continued to work at simultaneously building the size and credibility of both Muslim Mosque, Inc., and the Organization of Afro-American Unity. Chairing an MMI business meeting in Harlem, he announced that he was considering asking MMI members to t.i.the ten dollars weekly, for a period of six months. A report would then be circulated on "all the money taken in" along with all expenditures. His plan was to establish a newspaper similar to Muhammad Speaks Muhammad Speaks. MMI branch organizations were also to be established in Boston and Philadelphia, then in other cities. It was finally clear that Malcolm envisioned a national Islamic network that one day could be truly compet.i.tive with the Nation of Islam. At an MMI rally in late June he praised Islam as "the only true faith" for black people and promoted the OAAU, which would develop "an educational program" to highlight blacks' contributions to history. This new formation would not engage in sit-ins, he promised, but instead "they will take what is rightfully theirs."

He also returned to his correspondence with a renewed sense of urgency. News of a workers' strike in Nigeria had reached Malcolm, so he wrote to his friend Joseph Iffeorah, of the Ministry of Works and Surveys, asking for information. Malcolm was also highly attentive in efforts to recruit new followers. A letter he wrote on June 22 to a young, single African-American woman working at the New Yorker New Yorker magazine displayed charm and flattery. "Your recent correspondence is really one of the best written letters that I've ever received," she replied. It was "very poetic, but at the same time your thoughts were very clear." The young woman told Malcolm that she did not want to join any organization because she wanted to feel "free." Malcolm reminded her that it takes "organization to coordinate the talents of various people." He urged her to come to the OAAUs founding public gathering at the Audubon on June 28: "Even if you have no desire to become an active partic.i.p.ant, I do wish you would come out Sunday as a spectator." The young woman, Sara Mitch.e.l.l, not only attended that rally, but within several months became an invaluable leader of the OAAU. magazine displayed charm and flattery. "Your recent correspondence is really one of the best written letters that I've ever received," she replied. It was "very poetic, but at the same time your thoughts were very clear." The young woman told Malcolm that she did not want to join any organization because she wanted to feel "free." Malcolm reminded her that it takes "organization to coordinate the talents of various people." He urged her to come to the OAAUs founding public gathering at the Audubon on June 28: "Even if you have no desire to become an active partic.i.p.ant, I do wish you would come out Sunday as a spectator." The young woman, Sara Mitch.e.l.l, not only attended that rally, but within several months became an invaluable leader of the OAAU.

The progress Malcolm made in these weeks was constantly under threat of being undone by the growing violence of his increasing public feud with the Nation. In the streets, things were getting out of control. In the Corona neighborhood of Queens, a.s.sistant minister Larry 4X Prescott had recently established a Muslim restaurant on Northern Boulevard. On June 22 seventeen-year-old Bryan Kingsley, a Malcolm supporter, was loitering at the restaurant's entrance, talking tough. Larry went outside and smacked the boy hard across the head before-along with other NOI members-he chased Kingsley down the street. The boy telephoned Tom Wallace, Ruby Dee's brother and a strong advocate of Malcolm's. Wallace drove his station wagon to the restaurant, pulled out a rifle, and confronted Larry and another NOI member. "Thomas and I [had] worked together, and I knew something about [his] character," Larry 4X recalled in a 2006 interview. "I said, 'Well, go ahead and shoot if you're going to shoot me.' " Wallace warned him not to approach him, but Larry walked toward him, convinced he would not pull the trigger. When he got close enough, Larry grabbed the rifle and, turning the weapon b.u.t.t-first, "beat him with it. And then I broke out all of his car windows." His face shattered and b.l.o.o.d.y, Wallace filed charges with the NYPD, which arrested Larry; Larry in return filed a.s.sault charges against Wallace, who was also arrested. Both men were charged five hundred dollars bail, with their cases remanded to the Queens Criminal Court.

Malcolm was extremely disturbed by Wallace's beating. From a personal perspective, it was a deep betrayal: Larry 4X had been one of his trusted proteges. Perhaps worse, the incident threatened to damage connections he needed for his political work, as Ossie Davis and Ruby Dee had become pivotal to his access to the black arts and entertainment community. To the Amsterdam News Amsterdam News, Malcolm a.s.serted that Muhammad was responsible for the escalating violence. "The followers of Elijah Muhammad," Malcolm explained, "will not do anything unless he tells them to."

Larry 4X clearly recalled his Queens Criminal Court appearance because he had "my suit on, and bow tie." All the other prisoners began to laugh. "They said, 'Look at this guy, and he's clean as a pimp, and he has a.s.saulted somebody!'" Soon after Larry was taken to court, Malcolm entered the chamber: "He came over to me," Larry recalled. "He said-and this is the part where I have lost my respect for him-he said, 'Larry, you're dead.' " The court dismissed the charges against both men, but the damage was done. "That was the last time I had any words with Malcolm," Larry stated. "Then things just got progressively worse."

The beating of Tom Wallace and similar incidents in these weeks prompted Malcolm to issue an "open letter" of conciliation to Elijah Muhammad. Both groups, Malcolm wrote, needed to address the civil rights issues confronting Southern blacks. "Instead of wasting all this energy fighting each other we should be working in unity . . . with other leaders and organizations." On the surface, it was an appeal for the feuding sides to end the violence, but to those in the Nation who could read between the lines, Malcolm's letter was yet another provocation. The appeal asked Muhammad how, since the Nation had refused to use violence in response to "white racists" in Los Angeles and Rochester, it could employ violence against another Black Muslim group. Muhammad's earlier failure to authorize retaliatory violence against excessive police force was still a sore point for many of Malcolm's followers.

In the midst of the feuding, Malcolm managed to steer the Organization of Afro-American Unity to its triumphant public birth. At a major rally on June 28, a thousand people gathered at the Audubon Ballroom to celebrate the group's official founding. Just over twenty blocks away, the Nation of Islam was holding its own rally before a crowd at least six times as large, but at the Audubon a pivotal event in black American history was unfolding, with the emergence of a militant black nationalist political group that had the potential for redefining both the civil rights mainstream and black electoral politics. And unlike the Nation of Islam or even Muslim Mosque, Inc., the Organization of Afro-American Unity was purely secular, which vastly expanded its potential reach. As Herman Ferguson recalled, "I felt that if Malcolm could . . . present his politics minus the religious side of it, that would remove a lot of the concerns that many black people had." This sentiment could be felt deeply among the group's early organizers. Even before the founding rally, the "nonreligious people" like Shifflett, Ferguson, and others had long felt "they were not a part of the old guard. There was tension and resentment." Finally, though, it was their moment, as Malcolm publicly reached out to the mainstream of the civil rights struggle and the most progressive elements of the black middle cla.s.s. Present at the rally to acknowledge Malcolm's turn were attorney Conrad Lynn, writer Paule Marshall, newspaper editor William Tatum, and Juanita Poitier, Sidney Poitiers wife.

The high point of the rally was Malcolm's reading of the OAAUs "Statement of Basic Aims and Objectives," in which the new group dedicated itself "to unify[ing] the Americans of African descent in their fight for Human Rights and Dignity" and promised to "dedicate ourselves to the building of a political, economic, and social system of justice and peace" in the United States. The statement praised, among other historic doc.u.ments, the Declaration of Independence and the U.S. Const.i.tution, which "are the principles in which we believe and these doc.u.ments if put into practice represent the essence of mankind's hopes and good intentions." Central to the OAAUs program was Malcolm's campaign to bring the United States before the United Nations, where "we can indict Uncle Sam for the continued criminal injustices that our people experience in this government." The bold statement placed the OAAU firmly within the rich protest traditions of black America going back to Frederick Dougla.s.s in the nineteenth century.

Instead of demonizing whites, Malcolm now offered them a role in his human rights initiative. White allies could contribute financially to the OAAU, and they were encouraged to work for racial justice within white communities. Black liberation, however, came with a price: OAAU membership cost two dollars, and members were expected to donate one dollar each week to the organization. The group also promised to mobilize the entire African-American community "block by block to make the community aware of its power and potential." Taken in the broad view, the OAAUs founding marked the first major attempt to consolidate black revolutionary nationalism since the age of Garvey.

In June, Paul Reynolds negotiated a "one-shot sale" of excerpts from the Autobiography Autobiography that would appear in the that would appear in the Sat.u.r.day Evening Post Sat.u.r.day Evening Post prior to the book's publication. To obtain Doubleday's consent, Reynolds volunteered to cut the authors' advances to $15,000. Since Haley and Malcolm together had already been paid a total of $17,769.75, the authors had to agree to pay back $2,500, plus not to request any additional advance money from Doubleday until after the book was published. Unfortunately Haley was still hard-pressed for money, and the new Doubleday agreement provided no material incentive to finish the book project. prior to the book's publication. To obtain Doubleday's consent, Reynolds volunteered to cut the authors' advances to $15,000. Since Haley and Malcolm together had already been paid a total of $17,769.75, the authors had to agree to pay back $2,500, plus not to request any additional advance money from Doubleday until after the book was published. Unfortunately Haley was still hard-pressed for money, and the new Doubleday agreement provided no material incentive to finish the book project.

Although Malcolm's schedule had become too hectic to accommodate new interviews with Haley, the two men continued to communicate. On June 8, Haley confessed that, after getting a postcard from Malcolm, he had submitted it to "one of the ranking grapho-a.n.a.lysts in the country" and wanted to include "such objective findings" in his afterword of the autobiography. The a.n.a.lyst described Malcolm as an outgoing personality, broad-minded and possessing "a definite feeling of purpose, a calling. His goals are practical." But the subject was also "not a deep thinker" and showed "a lack of decisiveness in his makeup." Despite the questionable basis of the report, Haley wrote confidently that "it comes very close to you, I feel, from my own personal appraisals."

Less than two weeks later, Haley again wrote to Malcolm, as well as to Paul Reynolds. In his seven-page typed letter to Malcolm, he urged him to exercise caution: "I sometimes think that you do not really understand what will be the effect of this book. There has never been, at least not in our time, any other book like it. Do you realize that to do these things you will have to be alive alive? He pleaded with his subject to consider Betty's predicament if he should die-"and for the rest of her life, trying to explain to your and her four children what a man you were." To Reynolds, Haley revealed an entirely different agenda. Reviewing the "wealth of material" in the still unfinished ma.n.u.script, he wrote that the book could benefit from "careful, successive rewritings, distilling, aligning, [and] balancing . . . to get it right." Its conclusion, he now recognized, was "all important," because it placed his subject "on the world stage." He cited an article by Malcolm, "Why I Am for Goldwater," and the existence of his recent tour diary, a "soupcon of even fissionable international religious and political concerns." Haley said that he wanted to edit and expand both, a.s.serting that the texts would "keep [Malcolm] on-stage, while providing him with more funds." (These extraordinary materials would not be seen by scholars or the general public until 2008. Malcolm never had the time, or opportunity, to develop his travel diaries into a second book.) Within the severe limitations of his schedule, he read through Haley's Autobiography Autobiography drafts as they were produced. The final essay chapters that had been prepared earlier were cut, a decision that may have been Haley's alone; these are what today are called the book's "missing chapters." Malcolm probably sensed that the drafts as they were produced. The final essay chapters that had been prepared earlier were cut, a decision that may have been Haley's alone; these are what today are called the book's "missing chapters." Malcolm probably sensed that the Autobiography Autobiography might become a crucial part of his political legacy, and he became more determined to complete the project. Ironically, his extended absence from the United States beginning in July gave Haley an excuse for not working vigorously on the ma.n.u.script. As the summer began, Haley moved his attention to more potentially lucrative writing projects. He was already pitching to Kenneth McCormick a book ma.n.u.script idea called might become a crucial part of his political legacy, and he became more determined to complete the project. Ironically, his extended absence from the United States beginning in July gave Haley an excuse for not working vigorously on the ma.n.u.script. As the summer began, Haley moved his attention to more potentially lucrative writing projects. He was already pitching to Kenneth McCormick a book ma.n.u.script idea called Before This Anger Before This Anger, which a decade later would become the best seller Roots Roots.

In the meantime, Malcolm was besieged-by writers, by other activists seeking favors and alliances, and by people who just wanted to have a piece of history. Most met him only once or twice but were changed by these encounters; some were transformed by his rhetoric or writings, still others by his message.

Robert Penn Warren, one of America's most respected Southern writers in the sixties, met Malcolm at the Hotel Theresa on June 2, where they engaged in a mutually revealing conversation. Warren was at first surprised at how animated Malcolm was: "I discovered that the pale, dull yellowish face that had seemed so veiled, so stony, as though beyond all feeling, had flashed into its merciless, leering life-the sudden wolfish grin, the pale pink lips drawn hard back to show the strong teeth." Both intimidated and fascinated, Warren presented Malcolm with a series of scenarios in which white liberals had provided a.s.sistance to blacks. When Warren mentioned that "the white man" had been willing to go to jail to oppose segregation, Malcolm retorted, "My personal att.i.tude is that he has done nothing to solve the problem." Malcolm went on to emphasize the necessity to transform inst.i.tutional arrangements in the U.S. political economy, if blacks were ever to exercise power. Stunned, Warren asked for another chance for liberalism: "You don't see in the American system the possibility of self-regeneration?" "No," Malcolm replied.

Malcolm was clearly toying with Warren-it was several weeks later that he would affirm precisely Warren's point, in his appeal to the country's founding doc.u.ments at the opening conference of the OAAU, a claim on democracy he could not have advanced had he judged U.S. political inst.i.tutions incapable of reform. Warren nervously went on to inquire about the new movement's political objectives. In practical terms, what Malcolm sought was not fundamentally different from what waves of European immigrants-the Irish, Italians, and Jews-fought to achieve: equitable representation of their ethnic groups within all levels of government. "Once the black man becomes the political master of his own community, it means the politicians will also be black, which means that he will be sending black representatives even at the federal level." Malcolm's strategy was hardly a Leninist recipe for social revolution, but Warren, a guilty white liberal, could not understand his objectives. He gave far too much weight to Malcolm's incendiary rhetoric and insufficient commentary on the social program he was advancing. At one tense moment Warren inquired if Malcolm believed in political a.s.sa.s.sination, "and [he] turns the hard, impa.s.sive face and veiled eyes upon me, and says, 'I wouldn't know anything about that.' "

At the other end of the political spectrum was a series of meetings between Malcolm and the political activist Max Stanford (later known as Muhammad Ahmed). The two had first met in 1962, when Stanford, then twenty-one, had sought out Malcolm to ask if he should join the Nation of Islam. Malcolm had shocked him by replying, "You can do more for the Honorable Elijah Muhammad by working on the outside." The young man had taken Malcolm's words to heart, and that same year he and Cleveland activist Donald Freeman created a small, militant nationalist group, the Revolutionary Action Movement (RAM). Based originally at Central State University in Ohio, the network developed a presence in Philadelphia in the 1960s and soon had relationships with CORE chapters in Brooklyn and Cleveland. Ideologically, they were influenced by black militants like the exiled Robert Williams and the independent Marxists Grace Lee and James Boggs. The Revolutionary Action Movement perceived itself as an underground organization, "a third force," Stanford later explained, "between the Nation of Islam and SNCC. In late May 1964, Stanford arrived in Harlem asking to see Malcolm. The two met at the Harlem restaurant 22 West, Malcolm's favorite, where Stanford made an outrageously bold request: Would Malcolm consent to be RAMs international spokesman? Robert Williams had already agreed to be their international chairman.

At that time, the proposal likely appealed to Malcolm. For some time he had felt that the absence of clear objectives and a united front within the Black Freedom Movement was attributable, in part, to organizational deficiencies. The NAACP, CORE, SCLC, and other groups were like feuding factions at the national level; worse, the parochialism and personal jealousies of their leaders frequently disrupted cooperation at the gra.s.sroots level. Stanford argued that what was required was a more clandestine, cadrelike structure that could operate beyond the gaze of the media. RAM would be the underground cadre organization," Stanford explained, while "the OAAU would be the public front, united front." At 22 West, Malcolm looked over RAMs organizational chart and said, "I see that you have studied the Nation of Islam's structure. He was correct: the model did draw from the Nation of Islam, as well as from the Communist Party.

Stanford remained in New York City for several months, and at OAAU meetings he was struck by Malcolm's finely honed ethnographic skills and powers of observation. He recalled: It would be at times twenty to thirty people in our apartment, and Malcolm and John Henrik [Clarke] would be there. Malcolm would not chair the meeting. It would be somebody else chairing. And the discussion on the issue would go around the room. And people would be arguing different points of view. Malcolm would be the last person to say anything. He'd let people air out what they had to say. And then he'd say, "Can I say something?" You could hear a pin drop. And he said, "Sister so-and-so has a good point, and she thinks she's in opposition to Brother so-and-so. And Brother so-and-so has a good argument. But-" And he would synthesize the whole argument. He would show everybody their strong points and everybody their weak points and how everything interrelated. . . . It was amazing. Here's a man with an international reputation. [Yet he also] could have that [relationship] with brothers on the street [and] had that relation with sisters and brothers who graduated from college.

Stanford was also keenly tuned to Malcolm's emotional state at the time. "The only time I ever saw Malcolm emotional, and in a sense irrational," the younger man recalled, "was in his public actions against the NOI in June-July 1964." These moves threatened to destroy a potential relationship with Stanford's group. When Malcolm "accused Elijah of fornicating with his secretaries, [and] put it out in the street that he had illegitimate children," RAM sharply dissented with his tactics. "Malcolm was very disturbed," Stanford said, because, spiritually and personally, "he had not only misled people, but he had physically abused people for their violation of what he thought was Elijah's policy. So he felt like the biggest fool on planet earth."

Stanford claims that Malcolm finally agreed to some kind of a.s.sociation with RAM, and he ordered James 67X to serve as his liaison. However, Stanford was less successful in convincing him to relocate the OAAU. Malcolm was determined to "build a base" in New York, even though James and Grace Lee Boggs were urging him to relocate to Detroit, a city where he had thousands of enthusiastic supporters and where there was "more of the radical base." RAM, Stanford explained, "wanted him to expand the OAAU all over the country because we felt that they couldn't attack him if he had a national base." But Malcolm would not budge. Perhaps he feared that if he moved his operations out of Harlem, the thousands of loyal Mosque No. 7 members would never allow him to reestablish a foothold there. By the 1960s Malcolm no longer lived in the Harlem community, yet Harlem remained the central metaphor for black urban America, and he understood that this sometimes magical, often tragic neighborhood's fortunes were intertwined with his own.

By now, Malcolm had spent years under surveillance by both federal and local officials, but in the summer of 1964 the man listening on the other end of his wiretapped telephone would come to play an important, if hidden, role in Malcolm's life. Gerry Fulcher had graduated from the city police academy less than two years earlier, and as a young Harlem-born cop he had internalized many of the racist, conservative views his father had held about blacks. "I was going to stop all crime in New York City . . . ," he remembered about his att.i.tude in the days fresh out of the academy. "I was going to be the supercop." On his first day as a rookie officer, Fulcher and his partner were confronted by an African American who seriously injured Fulchers fellow officer when the man hurled a chair at him. Fulcher managed to handcuff the suspect, and when his sergeant arrived at the scene, he gave a clear order: "I don't want that n.i.g.g.e.r walking by the time you get back to the station house." Fulcher may have been raw, but he wasn't about to disobey. "So I, with the guy handcuffed, with his arms around his back, I beat the c.r.a.p out of him," he said. "And I was a hero."

After one year on the streets, Fulcher advanced to detective and was transferred into the BOSS unit. By early 1964, he was given his first important a.s.signment, the covert surveillance of Malcolm X. Fulcher had already decided that Malcolm was "one of the bad guys," an opinion shared by many of his fellow cops. "The whole civil rights movement," he would say later, "was considered a brand of communism in the cops' mind back in those days." Fulcher had Malcolm down as a "former junkie and a pusher, when he was called Big Red . . . we knew all that." With his break from the Nation, Malcolm had become an even greater threat, the possible leader of civil unrest and black protest. From BOSSs perspective, all of Malcolm's activities had to be closely monitored, which included the recruitment of black cops to join both Malcolm's group and Mosque No. 7. Fulchers a.s.signment was no less invasive. A small room had been set up in the 28th Precinct station house with tape recording equipment connected to the bugs that operatives had placed in Malcolm's phone at the Hotel Theresa. The listening devices could pick up any conversations in the room where the telephone was. Fulchers task was twofold: to wiretap Malcolm, hand-delivering the tapes to police authorities on a daily basis; and to attend OAAU events, doing general surveillance.

Fulcher soon learned that wiretapping required diligence and an attention to detail that made the job difficult. "You had to listen to the bug all the time, and the minute you heard the phone ring you almost had to time with him picking it up," Fulcher recalled. "And then I had to record, decide what I was putting on the [tape] reels." At first, he proudly carried out his duties, believing that Malcolm hated whites and wanted to overthrow the U.S. government. "They are the enemies of police," Fulcher stated, recalling his views in 1964 and 1965. "They [the police] would kill them every chance they have." As far as the cops were concerned, Malcolm and his followers should be targeted.

Within a few weeks, as he listened to Malcolm's telephone conversations, office meetings, and public speeches, "what I heard was nothing like I expected." The officer was impressed by his subject's political a.n.a.lysis and arguments. "I remember saying to myself, 'Let's see, he's right about that. . . . He wants [blacks] to get jobs. He wants them to get education. Wants them to get into the system. What's wrong with that?' " Fulcher soon concluded that Malcolm was not "the enemy of white people in general" after all, which led him to the further realization that the NYPDs entire approach to Malcolm, and more broadly the Black Freedom Movement, required rethinking. He raised his concerns with his superior officers but got nowhere. Inside BOSS, "all black organizations were suspect." From then on, he kept his opinions to himself, while continuing his wiretaps and tape recordings. BOSS even placed a recording device under the stage at the Audubon, to ensure that law enforcement could transcribe and a.n.a.lyze Malcolm's speeches.

The day after the OAAUs founding rally, Malcolm met with some members to take stock of the event and to begin planning for his second excursion abroad that year. That Sunday about ninety individuals filled out forms to join the OAAU, far fewer than antic.i.p.ated. The New York Times New York Times had estimated the rally's attendance at only six hundred. Malcolm was quick to attribute the low number of new members to the fact that most Harlemites did not have the initial two-dollar membership fee. had estimated the rally's attendance at only six hundred. Malcolm was quick to attribute the low number of new members to the fact that most Harlemites did not have the initial two-dollar membership fee.

If the OAAU lacked for early members, it was not on account of any lull in the charge for civil rights. For the two weeks prior to the rally, news of the disappearance of three volunteers in Mississippi on the first day of the Freedom Summer project had gripped the nation, as activists across the country demanded a full investigation. King himself was still in Saint Augustine, in and out of jail and under tremendous strain. Early on the morning of June 30 Malcolm sent King a telegram expressing his concern about racist attacks against civil rights demonstrators in Saint Augustine. He indicated that if federal authorities were not willing to protect civil rights workers, then he was prepared to deploy his people in the South to organize self-defense units capable of fighting the Klan. To reporters, he characterized these groups as "guerilla squads. . . . The Klan elements in the South are well known. We believe that whenever they strike against the Negro, the Negro has a chance to strike back."

Later that day he flew to Omaha, Nebraska, upon the invitation of the city's Citizens Coordinating Committee for Civil Liberties. Upon arrival, he kept up his provocative banter, charging that "in Omaha, as in other places, the Ku Klux Klan has just changed its bedsheets for policemen's uniforms." After addressing a local audience at Omaha's City Auditorium, he checked out of his hotel, at three a.m., and later that morning was in downtown Chicago. He was a call-in guest on a local radio program, which alerted thousands of angry NOI members that he was in the city. Although he'd confirmed he would appear on the Chicago television show Off the Cuff Off the Cuff, he never made it to the station; threats on his life, now openly expressed on the streets, forced him to return immediately to New York.

At the beginning of July, Malcolm's former fiancee, Evelyn Williams, and Lucille Rosary filed paternity suits against Elijah Muhammad. The formal legal charge brought the fighting in the Black Muslim world to a boil, with death threats against Malcolm now seeming to come from everywhere. That same day, James 3X Shabazz, the powerful minister of Newark's mosque and active leader of Mosque No. 7, released a broadside against Malcolm, describing him as "the number one hypocrite of all time" and "a dog returning to his own vomit." One night in early July, either the third or fourth, Malcolm contacted the NYPD, alerting them that he was returning alone to his home at eleven thirty p.m. and that their presence might be necessary. When he pulled up in front of his home, he saw no NYPD officers present, but what he could see was two unfamiliar black men approach his car on foot. He quickly accelerated, driving around the block and waiting before going home. Malcolm complained to the police and an officer was eventually placed in front of the residence, but only for twenty-four hours.

Despite this intimidation, Malcolm was not about to become a political fugitive in his own city. The next evening, the OAAU sponsored its second public rally, again at the Audubon. Although most MMI members did not belong to the OAAU, Benjamin 2X Goodman was handed the a.s.signment of introducing Malcolm to the audience. Malcolm informed his audience, "Right now, things are pretty hot for me, you know. Oh, yes, I may sound like I'm cracking, but I'm facting."

On July 8 Malcolm appeared again on the Barry Gray Show Barry Gray Show in New York. On July 9 he carried on correspondence with Ha.s.san Sharrieff, the dissident son of Ethel and Raymond Sharrieff, who had recently broken with and denounced the Nation. Malcolm wrote to him saying he was unable to send Sharrieff funds, but pledged he would a.s.sist him in organizing "the believers" in Philadelphia, Chicago, and other cities "behind Brother Wallace" Muhammad. in New York. On July 9 he carried on correspondence with Ha.s.san Sharrieff, the dissident son of Ethel and Raymond Sharrieff, who had recently broken with and denounced the Nation. Malcolm wrote to him saying he was unable to send Sharrieff funds, but pledged he would a.s.sist him in organizing "the believers" in Philadelphia, Chicago, and other cities "behind Brother Wallace" Muhammad.

Malcolm had reached a point where his own physical safety was secondary to the realization of his political objectives. Chief among them were, first, forging a Pan-Africanist alliance between the newly independent African states and black America; and, next, consolidating the MMIs relationships with officials in Saudi Arabia, Egypt, and the entire Muslim world-both goals requiring him to head overseas. This second trip abroad that year would also remove him from the Nation's direct line of fire. Perhaps, he figured, the vicious jihad the Nation had waged against him might abate after a long absence outside the United States.

On the evening of July 9, traveling as Malik el-Shabazz, Malcolm boarded TWA Flight 700 for London. Arriving the next morning, Malcolm held an impromptu press conference in which he charged that the U.S. government "is violating the UN charter by violating our basic human rights." He also predicted that in the summer of 1964 America "will see a bloodbath."

Malcolm deeply believed in the power of prophecy, and only days after his departure from New York, the violence he had long warned of in his speeches finally erupted on the streets of Harlem. On July 18 the police shooting of a black fifteen-year-old sparked an angry march that ended with the crowd surrounding the 123rd Street NYPD station, the same station where Malcolm had led the Johnson Hinton protest in 1957. Only this time, when the police started making arrests, the people fought back; others ran through Harlem's business district, smashing windows and stealing everything they could carry.

In London, though, ready for a momentous trip, he could not have imagined such particulars. After renting a hotel room for the night, Malcolm rang one of his contacts, who provided him with telephone numbers and other contact information for some African leaders. In his hotel lobby, Malcolm managed to attract three British journalists to do a twenty-minute interview. The next day, July 11, he was off to Cairo.

Malcolm's great strength was his ability to speak on behalf of those to whom society and state had denied a voice due to racial prejudice. He understood their yearnings and antic.i.p.ated their actions. He could now see the possibility of a future without racism for his people, but what he could not antic.i.p.ate were the terrible dangers closest to him, in the forms of both betrayal and death. Just days prior to Malcolm's return to Africa, Max Stanford recalled forty-five years later, Malcolm had introduced Max to Charles 37X Kenyatta, a member of his inner circle, at a private reception. Stanford quickly explained that Charles "had been in the penitentiary, and in the Nation, and that he trusted Charles more than any man in the world." Malcolm a.s.sured both men "that the three of us would meet when he came back from Africa," Stanford remembered. "And the last thing he said to Charles was 'Take care of Betty for me.' "

CHAPTER 13.

"In the Struggle for Dignity"

July 11-November 24, 1964

Malcolm's return to Cairo marked the beginning of a nineteen-week sojourn to the Middle East and Africa. In departing New York, he left behind two fledgling organizations whose success depended almost entirely on his personal involvement, and the toll his absence took on both the MMI and OAAU was considerable. Yet several important factors conspired to keep him away. For as much as he wished to lay a foundation for his ideas, he continued during this time to undergo dramatic life changes, completing a transformation that had begun with his departure from the Nation of Islam and accelerated with his recent trip to the Middle East. Now, charged with bringing to Africa his plan to put the U.S. government before the United Nations over human rights violations, he experienced for the first time the fullness and profundity of his own African heritage. If the hajj had brought Malcolm to full realization of his Muslim life, the second trip to Africa immersed him in a broad-based Pan-Africanism that cast into relief his role as a black citizen of the world.

In a whirlwind nearly five months, he would become an honored guest of several heads of state and a beloved figure among ordinary Africans of many countries. Though not every moment of the trip was easy, it presented a stark contrast to the difficult slog of building the OAAU amid constant threats of violence from the Nation of Islam. Indeed, another reason why Malcolm ultimately stayed in Africa so long was safety: he was convinced that the Nation would try to kill him as soon as he returned home.

He had planned his visit to Egypt to coincide with an OAU conference (July 17-21) in Cairo, but eventually stayed in the city longer than originally planned, believing that the friendships he was forming would yield dividends in the long run. During the first two months, he threw himself into a detailed course of study prepared by Muslim clerics, a.s.sociated with the Cairo-based Supreme Council on Islamic Affairs (SCIA). According to Dr. Mahmoud Shawarbi, the SCIA was also largely responsible for subsidizing Malcolm's expenses in the Middle East, Africa, and Europe during his second tour. He was also in frequent communication with the Mecca-based Muslim World League (Rabitat al-Alam al-Islami) founded in Saudi Arabia in 1962 to promulgate religion and oppose the threats represented by communism. By seeking recognition from such organizations, he hoped to destroy the NOIs access to the orthodox Muslim world, as well as elevate his own position as the most prominent Muslim leader in the United States.

Most important of all to Malcolm, this was also a journey of self-discovery. As an NOI minister, he had preached a theology grounded in hatred. Only now, as his separation from the Nation of Islam grew wider, did he feel the urgent need to reexamine his life. If he packed away the starched white shirts, bow ties, and dark suits, how would he now convey his ident.i.ty?

Malcolm arrived in Cairo after midnight on July 12, and stayed initially at the Semiramis Hotel. In the days that followed, as he waited for his clearance to attend the OAU conference as an observer, he occupied his time by getting settled in and making contact with key leaders. The evening after his arrival he contacted Dr. Shawarbi, who was so eager to engage him in political conversation that he and a small entourage of mostly African Americans drove over to his hotel lobby, where they talked together until three in the morning. Malcolm also met with a number of dignitaries, including the