Ishmael Reed is one of the English
language’s most important contemporary writers. His novels reveal a
witticism and ironic sense found in very few other writers of the
period. His essays and articles challenge commonly held dogmas in both
mainstream thought and among those outside the popular mind. An
intelligent reader of his works cannot help but be challenged by the
points he raises, his use of the language, and the courage present.
Liberals, socialists, right wingers and libertarians; men and women, LBG
and T–everyone is open to Reed’s insightful and piercing pen as he
points us all to an essential fact–our shared humanity and its
manipulation by the powerful and their wannabes.
Reed’s mammoth biography of the Greatest of All Time, Muhammad Ali, will be published in July. Appropriately titled
,
this book is more than just a biography of the man the world calls
Muhammad Ali. It is also a history of the sport and business of boxing,
Elijah Muhammad and the Nation of Islam, the 1960s civil rights movement
in the United States, and a myriad of other associated topics–even the
history of the African continent. It also serves as a critique of sports
in a capitalist system, the domination of the US sports media by white
(often openly racist) men, and the Ali hagiography business. From the
late jazz violinist Billy Bang to Hugh Masekela; from Kareem Abdul
Jabbar to Howard Cosell, this text is greater than the massive sum of
its parts.
Simply put, it is a fascinating document. I say this as a fan of
Ishmael Reeds writing and as a historian very interested in discovering
and publicizing the histories we are not told. The book is comprised of
Reed’s detailed and entertaining narrative intermingled with numerous
interviews from people in numerous walks of life.
Reed challenges the commonly held idea that Ali was the first
racially proud boxer since Jack Johnson. He does so by citing incidents
of racism Joe Louis and other fighters before Ali experienced and their
refusal to bend to them. He also argues, rightfully so, that the racism
those men lived with was rawer and more violent than that which has
existed since the civil rights movement began in the 1950s, at least as
far as Black celebrities were concerned.
In writing this book, Ishmael Reed has created the most complete
biography of one of history’s most famous personalities. In addition, he
has provided the reader (and the world) with a revelatory look at the
world Muhammad Ali resided in. It was a world of money, racial
animosity, religion, and politics. It was (and is) a world peopled with
luminaries and egotists, humble souls and family. It is a tale not only
of a life that reacted to the times, but a detailed look at the
influence Muhammad Ali and the others discussed in the book had on those
times.
Like almost any human being, Muhammad Ali was a complex person. The
fact that he spent so much time on the world stage led some to think his
contradictions were weaknesses or signs of something less than genuine.
Ishmael Reed has done a detailed and well-rounded presentation of the
man and his complexities. It was and is a life representative of the
times. This quote from Harry Belafonte makes the point quite well: “He
was the poster boy for what the struggle was all about.”
Not everyone who appears in this biography agrees with Belafonte.
Some do not even consider Ali the greatest boxer of all time, pointing
instead to Sugar Ray Robinson and even Joe Louis. I am not enough of a
boxing fan to have any opinion, but suffice it to say, these comments
will certainly raise old arguments amongst those who are fans. The more
important aspect of Reed’s interviews and often confrontational
challenge to the legend of Ali is to his status as a civil rights
champion on par with Martin Luther King, Jr. Reed is not alone in this
perspective. Indeed, numerous interviewees agree with Reed, while
allowing for the fact that Ali’s domination of the world stage—in part
because of his status as a sport champion—lent the civil rights struggle
an international cachet it was unlikely to attain without the
commanding presence of Muhammad Ali. Furthermore, argue many of those
who appear in The Complete Muhammad Ali, it was Ali’s stand against the
US military draft that clinched his public status as someone who was
more than a boxer, more than an athlete.
Personally speaking, I concur
completely with this latter sentiment. When Ali refused the military
draft, it validated my growing opposition to the US war in Vietnam and
called the entire US imperial operation into question among some of my
older and more knowledgeable peers. This phenomenon repeated itself
millions of times in cities, gyms and schoolyards around the United
States and the world.
One question Reed asks every interviewee is why they think Muhammad
Ali is so well liked now by the establishment. Every single response to
this query, whether from a member of the Nation Of Islam, a media pundit
or a black radical, is essentially the same. Ali is so well liked now,
they say, because he is “safe.” His illness has rendered him often
incapable of speech and he often seems to be weaker than his closest
confidantes claim he actually is. Some of the answers also mention Ali’s
age, pointing out that white America has always found old Black men
“harmless.” Critic Jill Nelson goes the furthest, remarking that white
America always found Ali to be safe as long as he was in the ring. It
was when he acted publicly outside the realm of boxing that he scared
and angered the white establishment. White America likes their Black men
in cages, whether they are made of elastic ropes or steel bars.
The Complete Muhammad Ali is twelve solid rounds of writing.
Throughout the text, Ishmael Reed jabs and juts fades and dances. He
even plays a little rope-a-dope. In the end, his biography of Muhammad
Ali stands above its competition. It is not always pretty and parts of
it leave the legend of Ali somewhat bloodied. In doing so, it rings
closer to the truth than the sanitized tale today’s public has accepted
as real. This text is an in depth and studied look at a man, a sport, a
nation and a history. In his contemplation of all of these, Ishmael Reed
paints a canvas that is simultaneously darkened with shadows and
brightened with hope; defined by history that is certain to be riven
with a fair amount of controversy. Muhammad Ali became and remains much
bigger than the man who bears that name. Ishmael Reed’s biography of Ali
is similar in its breadth and scope.
From the Archives: Marvin X reviews the film Ali
"A notable and articulate advocacy of black conscientious
objection came from the Nation of Islam. In 1942 Elijah Muhammad was arrested in
Chicago and convicted of sedition, conspiracy and violation of the draft laws.
After serving time in a federal penitentiary until 1946, Muhammad continued in
his beliefs. Two decades later he vigorously urged his followers to refuse
participation in the Vietnam War. Among those who listened were world
heavyweight boxing champion Muhammad Ali and Marvin X."
-Lorenzo Thomas, University of Houston
Ali
Starring Will Smith Directed by Michael Mann
MPAA: Rated R for some language and brief violence.
Runtime: 158
Country: USA
Language: English
Color: Color
Reviewed by Marvin X
(12/28/01)
Cast overview, first billed only:
Will Smith .... Cassius Clay / Muhammad Ali
Jamie Foxx .... Drew 'Bundini' Brown
Jon Voight .... Howard Cosell
Mario Van Peebles .... Malcolm X
Ron Silver .... Angelo Dundee
Jeffrey Wright (I) .... Howard Bingham
Mykelti Williamson .... Don King
Jada Pinkett Smith .... Sonji
Nona M. Gaye .... Belinda
Michael Michele .... Veronica
Joe Morton .... Chauncy Eskridge
Paul Rodriguez (I) .... Dr. Ferdie Pacheco
Barry Shabaka Henley .... Herbert Muhammad
Giancarlo Esposito .... Cassius Clay, Sr.
Laurence Mason .... Luis Sarria
|
Some things in life are a cause for hesitation-we know we're not walking on
solid ground, yet we go forward into the unknown like a brave soldier ordered
into battle. This is how I approached ALI, knowing this movie was bound to touch
me in a personal way, since Muhammad Ali and I were the two best known Muslims
who refused to fight in Vietnam or anywhere for the white man. Ali was in
sports, I was part of the
Black Arts
Movement, also associated with the Black
Panthers.
Elijah told Ali to give up sports, that the world was not made for
sport and play. Ali refused. Elijah told me to give up poetry, that he was after
the plainest way to get truth to our people: poetry, he said, was a science our
people didn't understand.
I refused. Was Elijah right? Look at the present
condition of Ali. Look at the present proliferation of poetry: gansta rap poetry
has contributed to the desecration of black people. How did we go from
revolutionary BAM poetry to the reactionary rap songs about bitch, ho and
motherfucker? Sonia Sanchez says the rappers simply put on stage what was
happening in the black revolutionary movement and our community in general: the
disrespect of women. Even spoken word is at a pivotal point of becoming crassly
commercial, promoted in night clubs along with alcohol and other drugs.
Certainly, this is no atmosphere to teach truth which is the poet's sole duty,
not to be a buffoon or entertainer. Poetry is a sacred art: in the beginning was
the word and the word was with God’. One club owner stopped a successful
poetry night when it became a butcher shop, patrons trading poetry for sex, more
or less’.
Academic poetry never made it in the hood, since it is essentially a
foreign language. Thank God for poetry slams, they have allowed the masses to
appreciate poetry, seizing it from the academic barbarians who killed the word
in abstract nonsense only a rocket scientist or linguist can understand.
Perhaps, this was Elijah's point to me. But, finally, all poetry uses devices
such as metaphor and simile which may confuse rather than "make it
plain" in the style of Elijah and Malcolm, even though they too used these
devices. Elijah didn't stop Muhammad Ali from being a poet!
"Refusing induction,
Marvin X fled to Canada. 'I departed from the
United States "to preserve my life and liberty, and to pursue happiness".'
"-loc. cit.
Malcolm X recruited Cassius Clay into the Nation of Islam. Malcolm's oratory
influenced me to consider Elijah's Islamic Black Nationalism while I was a
student at Oakland's Merritt College, along with Huey Newton, Bobby Seale, Ernie
Allen and others who became the new black intelligentsia, the direct product of
Malcolm, Patrice Lumumba, Kwame Nkrumah and Elijah. When Malcolm X spoke before
seven thousand students at U.C. Berkeley's Sproul Plaza (1964), I was in the
audience. When he was assassinated, we wore black armbands to express our grief
at San Francisco State University, actor Danny Glover among us. In truth, we
were too confused to do more, which was the devil's purpose: confuse, divide and
conquer.
Although Ali and I were followers of
the Honorable Elijah Muhammad, Ali
followed closer to the letter than I-I followed the spirit of Elijah. Elijah
told us to resist the draft, go to prison if necessary. Ali followed orders-but
I was under the influence of my Panther friends who said we should not only
resist the draft, but resist arrest as well-so rather than go to jail, I fled to
Toronto, Canada, joining other resisters. But before I went into exile, I met
Muhammad Ali at the Chicago home of the Honorable Elijah Muhammad. After
Eldridge Cleaver was placed on house arrest for allegedly causing a riot at a
Black Power conference on the campus of Fisk University in Nashville, Tenn.
(along with Stokely Carmichael, H. Rap Brown, Kathleen Neal, later Cleaver),
Ramparts magazine permitted me to interview Ali in place of Cleaver who was a
staff writer. To the disappointment of Ramparts, Cleaver and myself, Elijah
called Ali into a room. When he returned, he said to me, "Brother, the
Messenger said not to do the interview." He added, "This is the man
I'm willing to die for-what he says, I do." So I didn't get the interview.
I returned to California with the disappointing news. Ramparts eventually did a
story on Ali. This was 1967-a few months later I was exiled in Toronto.
After
Toronto, I went underground to Chicago, arriving in time to see troops occupy
the south side and the torching of the west side, following the assassination of
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. In Oakland, the Black Panthers responded to the
death of Martin Luther King, Jr. by staging a shootout with the police in which
Eldridge Cleaver was wounded and Little Bobby Hutton murdered. With the FBI on
my heels, I left Chicago and arrived in Harlem, joining the Last Poets, Nikki
Giovanni,
Sonia Sanchez,
Askia M.
Toure',
Don L. Lee,
Amiri
Baraka, Ed Bullins,
Sun Ra, Milford Graves, Barbara Ann Teer and others for the second Harlem
Renaissance. But my draft problems weren't over-coming back from Montreal,
Canada one weekend, I was apprehended at the border and returned to California
for trial-I resisted a second time, fleeing to Mexico City before sentencing. It
is now 1970. In Mexico City, I met the sons of Muhammad Ali's manager, Herbert
Muhammad (son of Elijah Muhammad), who were attending the University of the
Americas. The sons, Elijah and Sultan, were in a kind of exile from the madness
of Black Muslim Chicago-they didn't receive Muhammad Speaks newspaper, of `which
I was now foreign editor and their father manager-so I gave them my copies. They
were talk of the town. The African American ex-patriot community informed me
Elijah's grandsons didn't believe his teachings. I discovered they were right
about Elijah, nicknamed Sonny, who was caught bringing marijuana across the
border, among other things. I arrived at their casa for a party to see Sonny
dancing with a white woman. Sonny let me use his birth certificate to cross the
border to get my woman. Yes, I was "Elijah Muhammad." But as I crossed
the border, my woman was on a plane to Mexico City. At least Sultan had a
Mexican girl. Sultan eventually became the personal pilot for his grandfather,
Elijah Muhammad. After journeying to Belize, Central America, against the advice
of my Mexico City contact, revolutionary artist Elizabeth Catlett Mora, I was
arrested for teaching black power and "communism," deported to the US
and served five months in federal prison for draft evasion. With this
background, I entered the cinema to view Ali, the story of a man and a time that
shook America and the world.
"For his court appearance, Marvin X prepared an angry and eloquent
statement, which was later published in Black Scholar (April-May 1971), 'There
comes a time’when a man's conscience will no longer allow him to participate
in the absurd.' He recalled with disgust the Supreme Court's 1857 Dred Scott
decision which pronounced that 'a black man has no rights which a white man is
bound to respect.' And in ringing tones he challenged the court's authority to
contravene his religious and philosophical principles, 'But there you sit’with
the blood of my ancestors dripping from your hands! And you seek to judge me for
failing to appear in a court for sentencing on a charge of refusing induction,
of refusing to go l0,000 miles to kill my brothers in order to insure the
perpetuation of White Power in Southeast Asia and throughout the world.' "
--loc. cit. ALI
The name Muhammad Ali means the one who is most high and worthy of much
praise. In Ali, we saw a man arise from "Clay" or dirt to become the
most recognized person on earth. Will Smith deserves much praise for his
portrayal of Ali, bringing him alive, making him believable. This was no easy
task because of the character's complexity as folk hero with many dimensions:
athlete, religious militant, poet, lover man. As athlete we must give credit to
the camera man for so many close-ups that transformed and reinforced Will
Smith's image as Ali. Actually close-ups seemed to be the dominant camera angle
throughout the movie and they worked to bring forth the beauty of the African
skin tones as well as reflect character in various situations. The camera
catches Ali's third wife Veronica Porche (Michelle Michael) at an angle that
reflects the absolute golden beauty of her skin as she and Ali stroll in the
African sun. There are great pan shots of people in the streets of Ghana and
Zaire. The sound was awesome when Ali was in the ring punching or getting
punched. The sound vibrated our bodies, making us a virtual part of the movie.
We meet Ali as he was meeting Malcolm X (Melvin Van Peebles) and being
converted to a Black Muslim. Malcolm converted an entire generation, especially
youth in the north. Martin Luther King, Jr. reigned in the south, having almost
no influence with us college students. We looked upon Martin as the chief
bootlicker of the white man. As Malcolm, Melvin Van Peebles did a credible job.
Of course he is no Denzel Washington (Spike Lee's Malcolm X), but at least he
looked like Malcolm-although his delivery was weak-he lacked the fire of Denzel,
but was acceptable and his relationship with Muhammad Ali clearly established an
intimate friendship until they were forced apart by Nation of Islam politics
which the movie pointed out was not apart from U.S. government politics of
intervention and neutralization. We see the agents inside the NOI. Of course the
NOI, along with the Black Panthers, was the main black organization on the FBI's
list of subversives. Hoover and his Cointelpro was determined to prevent the
rise of a black messiah who could unite African Americans. Malcolm and Martin
were marked for elimination. Muhammad Ali slipped through to become hero of the
Afro-Asian, Islamic world. After all, he defied the American government in a
manner no one has until Osama Bin Laden. We have to draw the parallel between
these two because they are heroes of the oppressed, especially the oppressed
Muslim masses of Africa and Asia. The movie gave us the impression Ali was more
a hero in Africa than with African Americans. One wonders whether this was
deliberate, to dampen Ali's image in the eyes of the hero starved African
American community. Let's be clear, Ali was in the tradition of the defiant,
rebellious bad nigguh: Nat Turner, Denmark Vesey, Gabriel Prosser, Jack Johnson,
Paul Robeson. Ali was doing all right until he sent a shout out to the world,
"No Viet cong never called me a nigguh."And we hear Danny Glover may
be added to America's bad nigguh list, since Oliver North is encouraging
Americans to boycott his movies because Danny made statements against military
tribunals. Ali made it crystal clear he was going to say and do whatever the
hell he wanted. America made him pay the price for being a free black man. What
if the other mentally enslaved black men followed suit?
Jada Pinkett Smith as Ali's first wife, Sonji, was rather conservative in
light of the character who was quite simply a so-called Negro who rejected
Islam, initially accepting it solely because of her man. I wanted her to be more
of a slut, a hard headed, stiff necked, rebellious negress. She was some of
that, but maybe the script limited her because I know she has the talent as an
actress to be more of a bitch than she was. Belinda (Nona Gaye), his second
wife, was more sassy than Sonji in some ways, especially in her condemnation of
Herbert Muhammad (Shabaka Hemsley), Ali's manager and the NOI, particularly when
Ali was nearly broke. Her critical remarks were utterly shocking since they came
from someone who grew up in the Nation of Islam. For a Muslim woman, she was
equal in boldness with Ali.
Herbert Muhammad is one of the classic characters in NOI history and Shabaka
did a fairly good job representing him, although we don't get the sense he was
one of the most powerful men in the NOI and the first prominent black fight
manager. If there had not been a Herbert Muhammad, there probably would not have
been a Don King. The character Elijah Muhammad (Albert Hall) was rather weak and
one dimensional, mostly negative. Realistically, it is impossible to downplay
Elijah Muhammad in the drama of African America. He educated two of our greatest
heroes, Malcolm and Ali, not to mention Farrakhan and even myself and thousands
more brothers and sisters throughout this wicked land. Don't make me quote
writer Fahizah Alim, "Elijah Muhammad was like a momma, even if she was a
ho' on the corner telling lies to get money to feed us, she gave us life and
kept us living until we could stand on our feet’" Basically, we see him
suspending Malcolm and later Ali. I think the best supporting actor in this film
would have to be Jamie Foxx as the legendary Drew Bodini, Ali's sideman. He was
beyond belief as the tragic-comic Bodini, who seemed to inspire much of Ali's
poetry and serve as cheerleader and confidant. Howard Bingham (Jeffery Wright),
Ali's friend and photographer, should have served as sane counterpoint to the
insane antics and witchcraft of Bodini, but he remains muted behind his camera,
although we know by nature the photographer sees everything and often advises
his client, constantly whispering words of wisdom from his vantage point.
These characters were poets above all else, beginning with Malcolm, although
we heard very little of his rhetoric, then Ali, Bodini, Don King (Mykelti
Williamson). How Don King escaped the rat image is beyond me, but he did by
donning the poet's persona. We must give Don credit for ushering in the age of
the multimillion dollar fight purse. But we had to sigh a little sadness that
the murderous land of Mubutu's Zaire was the scene of the Rumble in the Jungle,
as if anywhere else in Africa was any different, i.e., devoid of a dictatorial
regime. In Africa, Nkrumah taught, every state is a military state! Last but not
least, Jon Voight (Howard Cossell), must be given credit for bringing the
legendary Cossell to life, but it is clear Ali made Cossell, not the other way
around, and in no way were they equals: Cossell, as media pimp, represented
America at its worst --Ali's verbal sparring made Howard Cossell's world larger
than life and sometimes smaller when Cossell made the mistake of asking Ali if
he was the man he used to be. Ali retorted, "Howard, your wife said you
ain't the man you used to be..."
The music score weaved in and out of the action at proper moments, making it
delightful and meaningful, although it's hard to imitate Sam Cooke. The scenes
in Africa made us feel the universal love for Ali, especially when the people
were chanting "Ali" -again, the sound reached inside us, grabbing us
into itself. Finally, we must credit Will Smith for transforming himself into
all the things that make up Ali, his political consciousness, his religiosity,
his morality and immorality, his media savvy and especially his poetry. Of
course director Michael Mann must be credited with shaping the entire film. It
was long but I didn't want it to end, especially when it did with the Rumble in
the Jungle, the Foreman/Ali match in Zaire. But Ali's story is so much a part of
modern American history that it could have gone on forever. Imagine him
commenting on the events of 911. We understand that he has been requested to
make public service announcements supporting America's war on terrorism. Would
this be a more dramatic ending: the people's champ who fought against
oppression, finally broken down to a servant of the oppressor? It may or may not
be dramatic, but the tragic truth is that Ali is a member of Warith Din
Muhammad's sect that was known for flag waving long before 911. Even before his
transition in 1975, Warith had rejected the teachings of his father, the
Honorable Elijah Muhammad, in favor of orthodox Islam, dismissing the Black
Nationalism of Elijah for Americanism, so it is not whack for President Bush to
call upon Ali to be the "voice of America" to the Muslim world, nor
for Ali to accept. Remember when my friend, Eldridge Cleaver, returned from
exile waving the flag-the radical community was horrified one of their leaders
had sold out.
Let ALI end with the Rumble in the Jungle. One purpose of that fight was to
reestablish ties between Africa and African America. This was of great
significance for Pan Africanism, including the therapeutic healing of divisive
wounds in the colonized psyche of Africans and African Americans. As I said, Ali
was indeed bigger than America-the first Muslim heavyweight champion of the
world, the first African American athlete to unabashedly recognize our
Motherland by staging a fight there. Ali was a man of the times, not by blending
or following, but leading the way. The hero is first of all a leader. He extends
the mythology of his people, like Coltrane taking us to A Love Supreme. Ali's
mission was transcending our colonial education, breaking the bonds of our
Christian mentality with its impediments of passivity and submission, although
Martin Luther King, Jr. attempted to transform the Christian myth-ritual with
his liberation theology. Ali's athletic prowess and discipline, his political
consciousness, was an example for all fighters, especially freedom fighters
around the world. If indeed, our hero has been co-opted, let us be mature enough
to realize humans are not made of stone and we know in real life people change,
not always for the good-thus the danger of hero worship and thus the Islamic
dictum: nothing deserves to worshiped except Allah.
