According to Kant, humanity’s vocation to act morally and establish a civil state of peace is promoted, although not completed, by nature’s artifice.
If we look at the course of history, then Kant maintains that we can see, if we choose to do so, that nature operates providentially, which is to say, based on a plan that leads us toward a certain end; history, in short, has a purpose toward which it tends, and in which we are swept up. Such a view, though, to repeat, has to be chosen, and Kant goes further in stating that we have an obligation to do so. This is because we cannot confidently assert that, as a matter of fact, nature does indeed have a predetermined goal; nature is limited to the phenomena that appear to us, which are governed by mechanical laws, laws that are indifferent to us. However, we are not prevented from hoping for a certain pattern that unfolds in nature, for hope is a species of practical, as opposed to theoretical, reason. Peace is a condition in which we have a duty to live—contrary to the prevalence of war in nature—so anything that conduces to its realization, such as a belief in providence that can motivate us toward further action, is enjoined as a duty.
Kant remarks that nature’s ways are mysterious, and seemingly contrary to our expectations: Nature “permit[s] harmony to emerge among men through their discord, even against their wills” (360; emphasis mine). In other words, peace develops from its opposite, namely, war, which “appears to be ingrained in human nature” (365). The word “nature,” as applied to humans, thus highlights that our empirical-natural constitution points us in the right direction. War is the great agent of mobilization: It distributes peoples all around the world and makes them take up arms against each other. Of course, taking up arms is clearly the antithesis of peace, but actually, it establishes the eventual conditions thereof, like the planting of a seed for the coming of rain.
This is so because the threat of war encourages people to create nations for self-defense, which creates unity among them. It is only under a nation that laws can develop, and laws are what enable freedom and the protection of rights. Furthermore, within these nations, even while living beneath the yoke of legislation, humans naturally have their inclinations, which are ever at odds with one another; yet these very cross-purposes have the curious effect of giving rise to cooperation, as illustrated, for instance, in the market, whose delicate interactions between supply and demand depend on competing selfish desires. Therefore, our willfulness, which tends to create conflict, also tends, by nature, toward a certain coordination that goes beyond us; a nation and its economy are the result of incredibly complex exchanges, the whole exceeding its parts.
On a larger scale, this same dynamic applies to nations themselves which, like the individuals of which they are composed, have their own interests that can interfere with the institution of international peace. Nonetheless, nations, if they are to remain such, must necessarily remain separate from each other, in a plurality, or better yet, a confederation; for if, contrarily, they were to cede independence to a central nation, they would forfeit their autonomy and cease to be nations in themselves. The separateness of nations is thus what makes possible peaceful relations between them. Thankfully, nature prevents any such monolithic unification through differences in language and faith. While religion, Kant claims, is universal, yet it appears in various cultural-historical guises, meaning that a single morality is shared by all, whereas customs and ecclesiastical beliefs are relative. As cultures develop, as dialogue increases, and as morality takes hold of our hearts, each in their time, peace becomes more and more viable between nations.
Lastly, when it comes to cosmopolitanism, i.e., belonging to the world as such, which builds upon international relations, here, too, nature has seen to it that peace should in time prevail. The key here is trade. In the 18th century, with greater freedom of exchange, there arose the view of doux commerce, “sweet commerce,” according to which free trade was a deterrent of war. Nations, as they grow, come to prioritize certain products in which they specialize, leading to the development of certain industries. Nature, of course, boasting various regions, makes it so that different parts of the world have different features, so that one country is rich in bananas, another in silver. This leads to comparative advantages. As a result, one nation has what another needs, and vice versa, but war would disrupt this perfect opportunity! Hence, as an alternative to armed conflict, nations will prefer peaceful negotiation, by which they are mutually enriched. Consequently, competition between nations, fueled by economic motives, leads to a general equilibrium.
In the end, although nature may very well lead to the establishment of peace, still it is incomplete and limited—indeed, incidental—because such a peace is merely external; a true state of peace, though, which only duty can implement, requires that peace be sought out by and for humans, internally, derived from the moral law. All three cases—national, international, and cosmopolitan—will have peace as their outcome, but only nominally, since each rests entirely on self-interest. Mutual interest and coercion uphold this natural state of affairs, but internal peace, which we seek for its own sake—because it is moral—does away with the flourishing of inclination, replacing it with dutiful observance of practical reason, which is unconditional and enduring.
Source: Kant, Immanuel. Perpetual Peace and Other Essays. Translated by Ted Humphrey, Hackett, 1983.
Again, a quick survey of examples. Why do we care about what “came first,” that is, about the origins of the Universe? We need only look at the debate between science and religion, 
Therefore, the disagreement between the creationist and the evolutionist is not simply about how human life came to be in itself, which is inconsequential, but more importantly about what is 
Take another example, that of the “primitive.” What are we to make of, say, European artists—to name a few, Pablo Picasso, Henri Rousseau, and Paul Gauguin—who, in the the late 19
It stems in part from the writings of the semi-Enlightenment philosopher Jean-Jacques Rousseau, who idealized the trope of the “Noble Savage,” and who, in his two discourses—the first, “On the Arts and Sciences” (1750), and the second, “On the Origin and Basis of Inequality Among Men” (1754)—denounced the decadence of European modernity and bemoaned the simplicity of our pre-agricultural origins, 
This seems like an odd position, given that we are more likely to think of the many Europeans who, in Africa, justified oppression and genocide precisely on the same ground, namely, that the Africans were “primitive.” So how could Rousseau and Modernist painters see primitivism as something to emulate and aspire to, while others took the opposite view, interpreting it as something to be eradicated, civilized, and assimilated? I think it has to do with the very label, “primitive,” since it refers to being first. But first in 
Many centuries later, in 1641, a French philosopher, 
I want to specifically look at a movement/method that started in the 20
Hence, the discourse surrounding prima philosophia is not dead yet. If the connection is not clear enough, then Henry continues thus: “Is not ‘primitive’ that which makes something possible?”
For a more detailed demonstration of this, we can look to one of the greatest (and most controversial) phenomenologists: Martin Heidegger. His book 
To make this concrete, here is an example: proximally and for the most part, we live our lives in the future, because we are always moving forward, making plans ahead of time, scheduling events in the far and near future; throughout the day, we think ahead to dinnertime and what we will eat, to deadlines that we have to meet, to who we will see in the afternoon, to what generally needs to get done, 
In 1517, Martin Luther broke with the Catholic Church over the issue of indulgences, or commercial salvation. As a monk, he had been dissatisfied with his way of life even though he had done everything he was told to do; nonetheless, he felt like a sinner, and many of the sacraments to him felt like they did nothing. During an epiphany, he read that those who are saved are saved on the basis of “faith alone”—and that it is. There was no mention of the seven sacraments, the Church’s wealth and power, or the papacy. As such, Luther advocated for a form of pietism: Christianity was solely about faith in God. However, faith is more special than belief, for the former requires the grace of God who, in His merciful ways, must grant faith to us, who are all inveterate sinners, thereby elevating us. Good works, therefore, do not constitute faith; rather, they follow from it.
In the story of the Trojan War as told by Homer, the gods’ agency takes precedence over that of mortals’, reducing them to puppets. The opening scene establishes this immediately, as we are told that the dire situation of the Achæans is due to Agamemnon’s having spited Apollo (1.9-12). By refusing to do a sacrifice, the king and his army suffer a reversal of fortune; they are purely at the mercy of the gods and their whims. This means that the course of the war is directed externally, independent of the warriors, so it is not a matter of meritocracy; that is, whether an army has good warriors becomes less important than whether it has good 
Homer thus assigns to the gods a complete control over the lives of every individual. It is not a simple determinism, either: Hector describes an extreme form of fatalism since the beginning—birth—is intrinsically and causally related to the end—“Death.” It would be one thing to say that he is fated to die, but Hector says that his death 
Patroclus (16.993), among others. It may be pointed out, though, that there is one moment where human agency prevails, contradicting this view: Achilles pleads with the goddess Thetis to get Zeus to turn against his army, and succeeds (1.484-90). While it is true that Achilles initiates this change of circumstance, one must acknowledge, first, that it stems from his anger, which is often attributed to the conniving of the gods, and second, that the actual interaction is conducted by and between the gods; for without Thetis’ pleading, and without Zeus’ compliance, Achilles’ would not have had his way. If the gods are taken out of the picture, then Achilles is merely left sulking and wallowing in his self-righteousness, impotent and useless; whereas it is only with the aid of the gods that his desire can be fulfilled. Consequently, in 
one learns that Clytemnestra kills her husband because she was enraged at his having sacrificed their daughter, Iphigenia (140-51), to obtain good weather because Artemis created a storm in response to an omen—Zeus’, most likely. Thus, at every step of the way, a trace of the gods surfaces. Agamemnon’s death, like that of every other Greek, is foreseeable. In a sense, neither he nor his wife is morally culpable because their actions are divinely inspired. To blame Clytemnestra would be to overlook Artemis’ influence, while to blame Agamemnon would be to overlook the pride and fickleness of Zeus. The two mortals are pawns in a game, and their agency is negligible. Later on, Cassandra embodies this helplessness with her ignored prophecies. She foresees Agamemnon’s and her own death, yet not only is she unable to forestall or somehow avoid it through action, but nobody takes her seriously (1214-6, 1276-8). Her unintelligibility to those around her and her absence of will perfectly represent the tragedy of the human condition as Æschylus sees it in a world ruled by the gods.
declares, “This matter is too great to be decided by a mortal” (470), but she immediately follows up with a curious statement: “It is not even appropriate that 
Here, it may be objected that man’s role is diminished rather than augmented because Æschylus seems to be implying pessimistically that it is only with divine intervention that a court can be established, and it is Athena’s vote, after all, rather than the Athenians’, which ultimately acquits Orestes; however, one ought to remember that the Areopagus is deemed necessary and is composed of fallible 
Yet by an interesting form of argumentation, Rousseau showed that the social contract, far from denying our selfish, individualistic tendencies, 
“Man is born free; and everywhere he is in chains.”
While some were content with these reforms, others thought this, too, was not far enough. Some began to advocate for the defunding of or even wholesale abolition or dismantling of police departments. The reasoning behind this is that reforming police departments requires spending more on police departments. Recently, numerous investigations into city budgets have revealed excessive expenditures on police forces; thus, some argue, the better approach would be to spend less, not more, money on these departments, instead putting those funds to better uses, like social welfare or infrastructure that would fix the very need for police in the first place! Many, however, find this approach too radical. Abolishing or even defunding the police, they argue, will lead to chaos and anarchy. Therefore, the debate rages on.
Another interesting aspect of today’s movement is the question of leadership. Unlike in the ‘50s and ‘60s, where there were clear leaders, today there is no single ringleader, no one crowned individual whose word we follow. This movement is unique because it is organized bottom-up, rather than top-down, the way King ran the SCLC. To be sure, many of the protests are organized by either an individual or a group, but they remain decentralized and local; nobody is “in charge” of where everyone goes or what everyone does; everyone has an equal say, in part due to social media. Anyone can get involved. There is BLM and NAACP, of course, and they help out, but it is not as if they had a monopoly on the action.
The president, doubtless, plays a key role. Eisenhower was largely silent on civil rights, Kennedy late, and Johnson pretty useful, though he had his shortcomings. President Trump, unfortunately, unlike Eisenhower, who at least did something helpful in 1957 and 1960, has done nothing but make matters worse. Here we have a president who does not care for his people, who values law and order above all else, and who is so self-absorbed that he cannot see outside himself. Rather than address the root cause of the current unrest, by doing something about police brutality, for example, Trump has decided to encourage more violence and address the symptoms of the disease. “Oh, a black man was murdered, and there are now protests—hm, something has to be done about the protests, clearly”—how this makes sense, I do not know. How this exemplifies leadership, I know not. Strangely, Trump, for someone so self-centered, does not even care for his self-image. Even Eisenhower worried about his image.
During the ‘50s, because the U.S. was engaged with the U.S.S.R. in the Cold War, Eisenhower was careful to see how he and the country were perceived. The Soviet Union created propaganda calling out the U.S.’s hypocrisy: As a nation so committed to democracy and upholding freedom, how could it allow the unequal, ghastly treatment of African-Americans? This, in part, is what motivated Eisenhower to act on behalf of African-Americans, in addition to his concern for federal power. In contrast, Trump has no such qualms. The Black Lives Matter protests are not just national—they are international. Protests in Britain, Germany, Australia, and more have shown that there is global support for justice in America, yet Trump has not budged at all; he remains adamant in criticizing the movement. What are we to make of a leader who not only ignores the voices of his people, but actively suppresses them?
Police brutality in general has been allowed to flourish under Trump, who has encouraged a tough crackdown on protesters, his own people, mind you. Using violent, threatening discourse, with words and phrases like, “dominate the streets,” “law and order,” “force,” “power,” the threat of sending in the military, and more, Trump has set a precedent in which the abuse of power and the monopoly on legitimate force has become overreaching and utterly reprehensible, not at all characteristic of a democracy, but rather an authoritarian, martial state. The reckless use of tear gas, banned for use after World War I, and a violation of rights; rubber bullets, which have the ability to seriously injure and maim; batons; as well as the targeting of medical stations by police is evidence enough of this. It is reminiscent of the 1968 Democratic Convention.
Ideology is still a problem today. As one quote going around puts it, “Why is ending racism a debate?” Sadly, the attitudes of many from the ‘50s and before have not changed. Some are blatantly racist, while others, understanding the anger, merely object to the way activists have been responding to societal problems. But as many have pointed out, the main focus should be on the issue itself: Instead of condemning looters for example, whom nobody is defending, and saying that they represent everyone else, which detracts from the main issue at hand, namely the mistreatment of black people not just by police, but by other institutions, too, like housing, education, and voter suppression, along with others, we should be focusing on how to fix these things.
For the most part, everyone who is going out to protest is doing so 
Lyndon B. Johnson, who actually responded to the festering ills of society. After the Watts Riot of 1965 and the various riots of 1967, Johnson requested an investigation into their causes, resulting in the 
Quite simply and definitively, the Kerner Commission concluded that racism was the main cause of the riots. Whereas conservatives like Trump want to “solve” racism by investing more in law enforcement and militarizing police, or by cracking down more on African-Americans, liberals/progressives want to demilitarize the police and put more emphasis on investing in communities to repair them, that is, by ensuring quality education and healthcare, by reducing unnecessary and small arrests, and by focusing on healing rather than dividing communities. For instance, after the Watts Riot, one person decided to create the Watts Writers Workshop, where black youths would learn to write about their experiences through poetry and other media—a better, more wholesome solution, I think, than putting in more police.
that “all men (and women) are created equal.” The Civil Rights Movement succeeded in getting legislation passed that brought attention to and alleviated some of African-Americans’ plights, but it also encountered a number of obstacles, both external and internal: unwilling presidents, police brutality, white supremacy, group disagreement, radicalization, and more. History is best understood in retrospect. Thus, even though the death of George Floyd seems like an isolated incident, it is really a part of a long series of events, connecting to Breonna Taylor, connecting back to 2016, with the death of Philando Castile, back to 2014, with the deaths of Eric Garner and Michael Brown, and so many more. We are tempted to think of the Civil Rights Movement as a continuous movement, when, in reality, it was much like what we experience today: A discontinuous line, but a line nonetheless. Those who fought for civil rights from 1954-68 were in it for the long run, so the question becomes: 
And, of course, another ideological struggle came in the form of white supremacy, the very antithesis to the CRM. Several times, whites, especially southerners, though also northerners, vigorously opposed progress and the acquisition of civil rights by African-Americans—that is, after all, the very thing for which they stood, their very essence of being. In 1956, for instance, after 
morally wrong by our standards; they refused to accept change when it was necessary, refused to give up their bigotry and see African-Americans as their equals. But one can imagine, and try to feel, the immense dejection, fear, frustration, and defeat felt by blacks who, in attempting to get an education, a house, or a vote for themselves, in attempting to earn a place in a country from which for so long they had been alienated, and in attempting to earn their freedom, had to face daily the threats and put-downs and disparagements of whites who denied them those things, denied them the very 
During the Civil Rights Movement, one of the greatest tools was the media. King managed to use the media to his advantage; without the use of radio or television, it is unlikely the Movement, even under the leadership of King and others, would have succeeded. By ensuring the presence of cameras at each of his campaigns, King got Americans to witness the brutality African-Americans faced in the nation. The footage at Birmingham and Selma, for example, in highlighting the police’s excessive, unprovoked violence, showed that things were far from normal, that things needed to be changed.
But at the same time, the media is a double-edged sword: Helpful as it is in documenting current events, it can also serve to our disadvantage. King, of course, wanted camera crews to emphasize the violence directed toward blacks, but later on, especially in ‘66, as Black Power entered onto the scene, it became difficult to control what cameras saw and heard, at the risk of negative messages being spread, like the encouragement by some activists to use violence against whites, which obviously hurt the Movement, making it appear retaliatory, impulsive, and dangerous, turning would-be supporters away. Accordingly, the media could be turned against the CRM by helping to inflame whites and blacks alike.
has to do with accountability. When a network like CNN or Fox claims that protesters are descending into chaos, starting riots, looting businesses, and they are taken at their word, without any sort of corroboration, then there are blatant problems. Thus, another important factor comes into play: What type of media? In today’s case, it is a battle between cable news—CNN, Fox, MSNBC, ABC, etc.—and social media—Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, etc. The former is usually seen as more reliable by people, and so will take whatever is said at face value. However, whether or not there is some vested interest they have, these networks are not always reliable.
actual members of the protest could speak from their own experience, to get the story right: It was the police who had escalated the violent confrontations, the looters, in most cases, were not actually protesters, but mostly out-of-state opportunists and, in some cases, white supremacists looking to besmirch the Black Lives Matter movement. Some threads on Twitter even identified a possible police provocateur, an agent sent specifically to rile people up, vandalizing and burning, in order to get others to follow. It is a problem when the main source of news can no longer be trusted. The concentration of media power is notorious, and so it is usually in a network’s best interest to present a certain narrative; this corporate irresponsibility has degraded the democratic process, and it has taken the intervention of the people, the masses, those on the front lines, to deliver the truth.
As I mentioned above, this is most evident in the activity regarding media. At one point, photos, videos, and articles about cops joining protesters, putting down their weapons, or voicing their support began emerging all over Twitter, and many found this to be a move in a positive direction. Finally, we said, the police are beginning to shape up! But soon after, this was revealed to be a façade, the contrivance of “copaganda”—as it is called—cop propaganda, false displays of solidarity which proved to be superficial: In many of these cases, after these photo-ops were posted, the police resumed their activities, presently gassing protesters, arresting them, and shooting rubber bullets, after having pacified their victims. The wolf had clothed itself in sheep’s clothing. Critical observers were able to identify this ploy and spread the word, warning all social media users to be wary of these types of posts.
With good intentions, people began spreading “#blackouttuesday,” which informed social media users to post a black square on their accounts as a way of signaling their support for Black Lives Matter. Nearly everyone—whether because they genuinely supported the movement or because they felt pressured after seeing their friends do it—complied, posting a black square, usually with “#blm” or “#blacklivesmatter”—but it soon became apparent that, in doing so, we had been clogging up the system, preventing important information from being filtered through; as such, supporters were quick to spread the word: Change all mentions of Black Lives Matter to “#blackouttuesday” so that important information could be conveyed. Again, everyone complied.
What I wanted to show through this example is that, even though we became divided, even though we encountered issues, we kept going, we worked to keep each other informed. It is true that many posted just to save face and because it was low effort, but it is not as if we did it to intentionally hurt the movement; we did it because, at the time, for the information we had at the time, it appeared to be the best move. But when we learned that it was not, that we were sabotaging ourselves, we quickly corrected ourselves.
The original goal was to convict Chauvin and the other officers. First, we got third degree murder. But this was not enough, it did not answer for Floyd’s death. So then it got bumped up to second degree due to public pressure. A victory! Some believed this was not far enough, that first degree was warranted since it is possible Chauvin was racially motivated; however, Twitter users, consulting legal aid, explained that this was not the way to go, for it is incredibly difficult to prove intent. If we were to push for first degree, then Chauvin would most likely walk free; thus, it is in our best interest to stick with second degree.
In 1957, after the 
During the “Freedom Ride” in 1961, when bus riders were being violently attacked, Kennedy sent officers to protect them; in exchange, though, to keep the southerners happy, he allowed the black protestors to be arrested and beaten in jail. Similarly, he protected James Meredith when the latter entered the University of Mississippi, spoke out against police action in Birmingham, and proposed what would become the Civil Rights Act of 1964. Unfortunately, the bulk of his civil rights agenda, which might have redeemed his inaction, was curtailed by his untimely death. King criticized Kennedy for paying lip service to the Movement; Kennedy’s actions were too little and too late. 
Another setback was the targeting of leaders and activists. Many of the key leaders of the Movement were either attacked or killed. Martin Luther King, Jr., for example, was beaten and arrested on pretty much every campaign; he received death threats, even finding a bomb at his house after the Montgomery bus boycott; most infamously, he was spied on and followed by the FBI for most of his career as a part of an illegal surveillance program, COINTELPRO, for the purpose of identifying potential threats to the American order, suspected by J. Edgar Hoover, the head of the agency, of being a communist, as a result of which he received a blackmail letter telling him to kill himself; and, of course, he was assassinated by James Earl Jones in 1968.
The most formidable obstacle to the CRM was, of course, law enforcement. The police, as activists are apt to remind us today, originated as private militias created to catch fugitive slaves in the 1800s, and these racist, white supremacist roots would persist, not just during the ‘50s and ‘60s, but even to this day. As such, the police, as “upholders of the law,” even if that law, under Jim Crow, discriminated against African-Americans, saw black activists as threats. Anyone who tried to upset the status quo, like King or Malcolm X—the latter more understandably—threatened, by extension, to upset the “order.” Thus, we see how, during the CRM, the police were complicit in much of the injustice, rather than justice, toward blacks. Sheriffs and officers not only enforced segregation laws but also partook in lynchings.
direct Americans’ attention to what discrimination and racism actually looked like. And the reason the Albany Campaign is rarely mentioned—is because it failed, and King left disheartened. The Chief of Police in Albany was Laurie Pritchett. He had seen some of King’s work from the ‘50s and, like a good student, studying his enemy’s ways, he adopted the latter’s method of nonviolence, which he would use against him, fighting fire with fire—or, more aptly, water against water. When King and his fellow marchers arrived, Pritchett quietly arrested them, sent them to jail, and personally let King out of jail to prevent his arrest from being covered by the news. Pritchett had taught his officers, just as James Lawson had taught those who sat in at the Woolworths, not to engage in violence, even if they were insulted, assaulted, or provoked. Thus, King failed to arouse any anger or outrage against the police; there was simply nothing worthy of condemnation, like police brutality.
At Birmingham, King met Eugene “Bull” Connor, the Chief of Police, who, unlike Pritchett, as can be guessed by his epithet, “Bull,” was not peaceful. Connor authorized the use of electric cattle prods, batons, attack dogs, and high-pressure water cannons against protestors. Most shockingly, toward the end of the campaign, as morale was dwindling, the activists unleashed their final plan, in which they sent out younger protestors, from as young as six-years-old to high schoolers, in the “Child’s Crusade,” all of whom were met with the same relentless, merciless force by Connor and his men. When the vast amount of adults and youths being arrested and viciously beaten was captured on national television, the police department came under fierce criticism and moral indignation.
Finally, another instance of police brutality against protestors occurred in 1968 at the Democratic Convention. Although this event was not related to the Civil Rights Movement, I would like to briefly touch upon it to demonstrate that police brutality is nothing new. During the convention, which was held in Chicago—one activist, Mark Kurlansky notes, came to call it “Czechago,” in reference to Soviet-occupied Czcheslovokia—protestors taunted outside patrolling police officers, shouting “Pigs!” at them, after which several violent brawls took place. Initially, the media and many commentators blamed the violence on the protestors since they instigated the conflict. However, a follow-up commission actually revealed that it was the police who really began the physical confrontation, and who were to blame for the ensuing chaos: Many of them took off and hid their badges so they could not be identified, using this anonymity to take protestors by surprising, beating them with their batons, spraying them with pepper spray, and dousing them in tear gas. Earlier, the mayor of Chicago had given officers shoot-to-kill directions. Police officers also targeted reporters and smashed cameras to prevent coverage of the events. 
One other hurdle that stood against and ultimately divided the CRM was ideology. Most notably, there were inner disagreements within the Movement that led to its splintering and, from there, to its dissolution. First of all, there was the question of methodology: How do we best achieve equality for African-Americans? On the one hand, there was King, who called for non-violence. On the other, there were people like Carmichael, the Black Panthers, and Malcolm X, who blamed King’s method for slowing down progress, preventing substantial change, and emphasizing harmony over tension. King argued that nonviolence painted those who resorted to violence as even worse oppressors, as inhumane and immoral; by sticking with nonviolence, blacks could win the sympathy of whites. Otherwise, if blacks used aggressive tactics, they would only be feeding a negative stereotype of themselves. Yet there was also the matter of speed and efficiency. King, despite achieving a lot of legislation, did not change the fact of discrimination; it still existed, so clearly something more serious, more urgent, and more drastic had to be done. And how best to demand something than by force? This was the argument of King’s detractors.
Yet another question was: Should the CRM include whites? On this point, King said that whites were essential to the Movement, as it could use all the help it could get, notwithstanding the fact that the worst perpetrators of the status quo were the so-called white liberals. Yet, at the same time, people like Carmichael could not help but see whites as absolute, unconditional enemies; it was the whites, after all, who had subjugated and kept the black population down all this time. Why befriend them? Why tempt the savage lion? This interpretation, known as black nationalism, held that, in the spirit of Jim Crow, blacks and whites ought to remain separate for good—but also equal. The interesting thing about this, though, is that there was quite a lot of nuance: Carmichael was initially on King’s side in his early days, but changed his mind toward the inclusion of whites while the head of the SNCC, while Malcolm X, who was known for his antagonism against whites, toward the end of his life actually became more of an integrationist, calling for reconciliation between the two races, before assassins took his life.
Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Civil Rights Movement ended racism in the 1960s, right? Sadly, no. While the Civil Rights Movement was successful in ending legal segregation in the South, defending the right to vote, and targeting discrimination all around, it did not change the fact that, as a country, America is built on a power system which works against African-Americans. It is true that in the 21
The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People (NAACP), working through the lawyer Thurgood Marshall, had been working for years to undermine the legal status of segregation through small cases until Earl Warren was appointed to the Supreme Court as Chief Justice. In the famous 
As a result of the Montgomery bus boycott, the city, deprived of a large source of its income, gave in, and the Supreme Court demanded that the buses be desegregated, which they were. As one textbook writes, “Events in Montgomery suggested that black activists, even in the segregated South, could effectively mobilize—and then organize—community resources to fight racial discrimination” (Murrin, Liberty, Equality, Power, p. 789).
Early in the year, four black college students sat at a lunch counter at a Woolworth store, where they tried to order but were turned down. As time went by, they got more supporters, occupied more stores, and, under the guidance of James Lawson, who studied Gandhi’s practice of nonviolent protest, resisted the anger of whites who could not believe what was happening. This pattern spread through the South, to other cities and states, even, leading to the eventual desegregation of the Woolworth chain.
After successfully exposing the violent reception of his followers by the police in Birmingham, King decided to switch his focus from educating the rest of America on the problem of racism to actually addressing it through legislation, something made easier by the fact that the president, John F. Kennedy, horrified by what happened in Alabama, sided with the civil rights activists, promising them a bill that would ensure certain rights, and he demonstrated his good faith by opposing George Wallace, the racist governor of Alabama. Just after the announcement of the civil rights bill, one activist, Medgar Evers, was assassinated in his driveway.
Succeeding JFK, President Lyndon B. Johnson stayed true to his predecessor’s late commitment to the Civil Rights Movement by passing the Civil Rights Act of 1964, which prohibited segregation in public places and provided support for blacks seeking jobs, the Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC) created the year after. While the Act called for the enforcement of these principles, it was ultimately pretty ineffective, as any intervention required that a “demonstrated intention” of racism be displayed, which, as you might predict, was difficult to do. As such, this shortcoming laid the grounds for affirmative action in the late ‘60s, when, to address this fault, a quota system was adopted, an action’s consequences easier to measure than its actor’s intentions.
King set his heart on achieving enfranchisement, or voting rights, next. Even though blacks could technically vote in the South due to the 14
Seeing King’s failures—Johnson’s legislation proved largely powerless—black activists decided a new approach was needed: Black Power. People like Stokely Carmichael, who headed the SNCC, criticized King publicly, and ousted white supporters from the organization; Bobby Seale and Huey Newton, who founded the Black Panther Party in Oakland, California, seeking both to counter police brutality and to serve the community, guided by their “Ten-Point Program”; and the late Malcolm X, who initially called for an absolute break from whites, and even violence toward them, all advocated for a more violent approach than that of King’s, believing that change needed to be gained by force—or, as Malcolm X put it, it was a matter of “the ballot or the bullet.”
There was new hope on the horizon: The “Poor People’s Campaign” in Washington, D.C., designed to rival in outcome the previous march that had occurred there five years ago. King stopped at Memphis, Tennessee first, though, to attend to others matters. He was shot and killed. Once more, over a hundred riots broke out, this time in grief and rage, one casualty being Bobby Hutton, a 17-year-old Black Panther who was killed during an altercation with police.
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