Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: SUNDAY, January 30, 1994 TAG: 9402010005
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: B3 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: William Raspberfry
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
The speech itself was extraordinary, even for ears used to hearing anti-Semitic digs and unfounded racial accusations from certain leaders of the Nation of Islam. Muhammad is a senior aide to Minister Louis Farrakhan, leader of the religious organization. Jews, he charged in his Nov. 29 address at New Jersey's Kean College, control the White House, ``own'' the Federal Reserve Bank and manage national policy from ``behind the scenes.''
Notwithstanding that Jews are ``sucking our blood in the black community,'' he said, many black politicians are ``in the palm of the white man's hand, but particularly in the palm of the Jewish white man's hand.''
Then, almost as if to show he is not merely anti-Semitic, the speaker lit into the head of the Catholic church (``the old, no-good pope, you know that cracker. Somebody need to raise that dress up and see what's really under there'') and called for the slaughter of every white South African man, woman and child who fails to leave that country when blacks gain power there. The quotes, so far unchallenged by the Nation of Islam, are from the Anti-Defamation League, which says it has transcribed a recording of the speech.
It was, as I say, extraordinary. But so was the response. Black leaders -especially the Rev. Jesse L. Jackson, but also Rep. Kweisi Mfume, chairman of the Congressional Black Caucus, the Rev. Al Sharpton, former Rep. Bill Gray and others - have denounced it as racist, anti-Semitic, damaging and untrue.
More extraordinary yet: Jackson has called on Farrakhan to repudiate Muhammad's remarks. The Muslim leader reportedly was out of the country and did not immediately respond. His response, when it does come, could mark the turning point.
There has long been an uneasy coexistence of mainstream black organizations with the Nation of Islam - in many ways like the relationship between the 1960s civil-rights leaders and Malcolm X. One has been black America's civil voice, the other its impudent, in-your-face macho voice. The two might, by now, be speaking as one. But the civil-rights leadership has gagged on the Nation's anti-Semitism - both as a practical political matter (Jews remain important political allies) and as a matter of true revulsion.
For a long time, it didn't matter much. But in recent years, Farrakhan has coveted a role in American politics, and to that end he has moved to make himself and his following less unacceptable to the mainstream.
He has met with white editors and reporters (long a no-no for the organization). He has tried to be helpful to black politicians. He has softened his anti-Jewish rhetoric. He even performed a violin recital (he played Mendelssohn) as a sort of peace offering to Jews.
Then during last September's Congressional Black Caucus weekend, in what many saw as a major breakthrough, Farrakhan and the mainstream black leadership appeared to reach an accord.
It was, in fact, less a breakthrough than a trap. At a public forum on race, the Rev. Benjamin Chavis, new head of the NAACP, tried to patch things up with Farrakhan over the latter's exclusion from the commemorative March on Washington a month earlier. The minister and leaders of the movement should meet in private to work things out, Chavis said.
Farrakhan spotted the opening and went for it:
``When we have this meeting in closed session,'' he said, ``may we iron out whatever differences we may have and make a pledge to each other that we can say in public that we will never let somebody outside of our family determine what goes on inside our family. And we will tell those who wish to exclude a member of the family from participating with the family to keep their mouth out of our family business.''
Translation: Let me back into the family and don't worry what the Jews will say.
Jackson and the others have made what amounts to a counter offer: If you want to be welcome at the family table, stop playing in the dirt and wash your hands.
Washington Post Writers Group
by CNB