I'm furloughed and have been, frankly, a bit stymied as a writer on the shutdown fiasco. Don't get me wrong, I feel I've got lots to say but others seem to have characterized these events much better than I. I've appreciated so much of the writing here that I find even that hard to enumerate, from the personal rants against republicon insanity, to the more documented discussions. I've read many carefully, rec'd many, commented on a few, followed links to keep as informed as I'm able as I try to make best use of the time and contemplative space I find myself in (while not spending too much money I won't have should leave-without-pay extend indefinitely). Laughing or even getting angry or teary with some passionate or compassionate writers here has helped me tremendously, and I'm thankful to this community for that.
I must admit I've spent a lot of time retreating to local and personal needs, maybe in part because the shutdown has directly affected my ability to earn right now. I took my truck in for much-needed repairs to pass a state inspection (which I highly doubt it will pass). I'm hopeful the state inspectors will grant a waiver so I can drive the then-15 year old beast to a local auto graveyard two years from now when the waiver expires (at 213,000+ miles now, I'm hoping to squeeze out a quarter million). I doubt I'd get much for it at this point as trade-in and couldn't start paying a car note under these uncertain career conditions even if I wanted to trade it in.
That truck was able to deliver four large boxes of canned and dry goods to a local Washington, DC, church's food bank. Next week, it will be clothes that I and a friend will donate and deliver. I believe in community, such as on this site and "on-the-ground" where I live. We need community more than ever when forces of disunion act so recklessly to pit community members or whole communities (within and across nations) against each other. To me, those forces are most adept at what they do in the short-term, causing disruption, but more inept in the long-term because their sights are set almost exclusively on very few people's short-term gain anyway. If they are a "mass," they are a small mass of self-interested, venal and crass opportunists who sell out anyone short-sighted enough to be useful to them as followers as they pursue their tortured and torturous paths. And I believe we must fight them here, at the polls and in the street, in protest and in doing small acts for the communities they seek to ravage while also attempting to dismantle social conscience and substitute it with ideals involving narcissism and cynicism.
During a break in my own small acts within the local community here, I had time to catch a new movie focusing on Muhammad Ali, and in a strange, sort of non sequitur, got led into a personal remembrance of seeing him in-person 37 years ago. If you've got time, I hope you'll let me share the remembrance with you...
What I saw was HBO's Muhammad Ali's Greatest Fight, directed by Stephen Frears and currently airing on the network. I'm not well-versed in either the legal or political history of the event or that period, though I did live through the time as a teen and pre-teen. Naive would best describe my responses to Muhammad Ali, and filtered through a homogeneous cultural lens. Growing up in an all-white neighborhood in segregated Chicago in the 1950s and 60s, most of what I heard others say about Muhammad Ali (and Cassius Clay, for that matter) had to do with his supposed arrogance or insolence. Today, I can see that he was a young, Black man who spoke well of himself, sometimes in inflated rhetoric not unlike many young people of any race might do. Still, unlike many of his peers, the stage he occupied to speak from and the amplifier his fame provided made his already powerful statements that much more powerful. In the mid-sixties, in my pre-pubescent period, which was also marked by conservative religiosity, I didn't find Muhammad Ali's presence attractive. My attitude changed as I matured and started to acquire some political perspective. What struck me as most poignant while viewing the film were the memories stirred in me through archival footage of him speaking before and after Cassius Marsellus Clay, Jr. also known as Muhammad Ali v. United States (403 U.S. 698) got decided in his favor.
Muhammad Ali made what I would call some "unfortunate" statements early in his battles with the courts, comparing his decision to stay in the U.S. and fight his prosecution for draft "evasion," in opposition to those who chose (or were somehow privileged to be able to choose) to emigrate to Canada or elsewhere. Whether he was insensitive or indifferent to, or simply unaware of the psychological trauma that would lead someone to leave a homeland under such duress, those statements probably did not establish common cause with his fellow draft resistors. Was that the opportunist in him? Was it mere hyperbole or youthful exuberance, also reflected in describing his personal experiences as if it were a crusade on behalf of all Black Americans? Was he being urged in a certain direction due to the influence of the Nation of Islam? Perhaps there is truth to some of these assertions. Based on the government's response to him, his protests, and whatever personal and political forces moved Muhammad Ali, it is also arguable that his race, political affiliations and public posture toward the press and the U.S. had already blended to such a degree that further controversy would have been hard for him to avoid.
Based on the support he received from many African Americans inside and outside of the Nation of Islam at the time of his court battles, it's also possible his experience did resonate powerfully with many thousands of other Blacks in the U.S. In that way, perhaps he was struggling on their behalf. Still, because in so many ways Muhammad Ali (and Cassius Clay) seemed to threaten and challenge the White "Establishment" and its press before and after he joined the Nation of Islam simply being confident (or brash) and outspoken, I wonder if what upset White Americans most was that he accomplished what he predicted successfully after most of his alleged "boasts." Many sportswriters vehemently criticized him long before he became Muhammad Ali and opted out of participating in the Vietnam War. Much of the criticism was race-based.
What's undeniable to me, anyway, hearing him through film clips many decades later, is the boldness of the truth embedded in his statements characterizing the war itself, if not the philosophical underpinnings behind his refusal to participate in it. In one clip from Muhammad Ali's Greatest Fight, speaking to Dick Cavett in anticipation of being sent to prison for his refusal to enlist, he said this:
Whenever people really wanna make progress, some of them have to sacrifice a lot and I'd like to say White America right now is spending $30 million a day in Asia. Black and white boys are dying unjustly for nothing, just to free somebody else. So why should I worry about going to some little, old jail to free my poor people who have been catching hell for over 400 years?
Indeed, he did sacrifice, his title, his ability to continue fighting and earn an income from it. He was threatened with incarceration and additional loss of income. Moreover, his assessment of the human and economic waste on the war, for all of the war's vague and shifting "objectives," one might say its questionable cause, when Civil Rights was still getting short shrift on the home front, also appears very prescient to me.
When the Supreme Court case did get decided in his favor, despite what he had obviously given up to pursue it (less well known was the government surveillance under which he operated, the threats to his life and well-being, even criticism from within the Nation of Islam), he was more magnanimous to his detractors than they would ever have been to him. In another clip from the film whose source I was unable to determine in the credits or via Web searches, Muhammad Ali speaks to a British interviewer (not David Frost) in grainy, black and white footage after the Supreme Court decision was rendered. Asked why he bore no grudge toward those who prosecuted his case, he said this:
Then I would be a hypocrite if I did [attack the U.S. justice system] because I expected them to recognize me for what I believe, and they did what they thought was right at the time. They took the title at the time--they wouldn't let me box nowhere in the country. They just did what they thought was right, and for me now to sue them and to condemn them or to speak out against them for doing what they thought was right, then this would be hypocritical. So how can I get on them for doing what they believed was right?
My only response to such a quote is that it represents as principled a stance as I can imagine one articulating, certainly gracious in victory, such as "victory" was under the circumstances, more generous in my opinion than many of his detractors might have deserved.
My personal remembrance of the fighter got some coverage in the press, I was glad to discover, when I found a Stars and Stripes story about Muhammad Ali's visit to Camp Casey, South Korea, in June of 1976, which is (or was) about 12 miles south of the DMZ, Headquarters for the 2nd Infantry Division. I was stationed about seven miles farther north with the 4th/7th Cavalry but was allowed to drive a truckload of fellow-GIs to watch the event.
Other than observing his playfulness with those fellow-GIs who were allowed to spar with him in the ring, as well as watching him greet bystanders as he walked within about five feet of me, what I remember most was his telling the crowd that he meant no disrespect to those who did serve or were serving presently, though he regretted that some of his comments might have made it appear so. I find this sentiment to be consistent with his statements regarding those who pursued a case against him when he opted out of the draft ten years earlier. I believed then and still believe that he did not wish to judge his contemporaries or us for deciding to serve. In those days, there was some relief to that since many folks back home, including many of my own peers, were not nearly as reticent in judging those of us who served.
Even more impressive to me at the time, and still as I reflect on this experience, was that Muhammad Ali bothered to come and visit us at all. I'm sure there might have been some PR payoff in his action, but the fact is perceptions of the military and servicemembers were none too elevated in 1976, so I'm not sure what he had to gain in PR. Also, his professional position and economic returns as a boxer were as good as they'd ever been during that period, so again, I'm not sure what PR advantage might have come from his visit. He had beat Joe Frazier in Manila less than a year before. In fact, none of our political leaders were visiting us in those days. No mega stars were coming over with the USO in those days, either. In the end, I can't really say what motivated his visit to some 2,500 GIs in what was the no man's land near the DMZ at that time. I believe, as conflicted as Muhammad Ali's personal life might have been, as tumultuous as his political life remained, he did adhere to principles, as is evident in many of his speeches. In many ways, his brilliant use of the language offered amazing insights into the times and events through which he and many of us lived. I appreciate his coming to see us, sharing some laughs, and reminding us of home. That's more than I can say for most of the elected officials who voted to maintain our presence there as so many warm bodies, walking the line and counting the days.
Below are some pictures of Muhammad Ali's visit to Camp Casey in 1976, courtesy of Stars and Stripes. I hope you enjoy them as I did.
Sparring with soldiers. Everyone knew one punch from "the Champ" would have floored any one of them.
"Telling it like it is": He spoke about the beating he took while beating Joe Frazier, about his trials in the U.S., and his appreciation for our being there.
Muhammad Ali surveys the crowd at Camp Casey, South Korea.
Sun Oct 13, 2013 at 3:18 AM PT: Thank you Rescue Rangers.