Summary
In this section of the essay, Baldwin’s main focus shifts to his encounter with Elijah Muhammad, the head of the Nation of Islam movement. He begins by recounting his initial impressions of the movement: he did not pay it much attention because the movement's message seemed to be the same as all religious messages he had heard, and had come to reject. He had heard many Muslim speakers in Harlem before, and did not see them as a new or important voice. But he remembers the moment he began to pay attention to speeches made by Nation of Islam members. Two factors compelled him to listen: the police did not break up these crowds, as they usually did with other gatherings, and the crowd seemed to listen with a kind of intelligence and hope on their faces, as opposed to the appearance of being drugged that he usually saw in people listening to religious speeches.
Baldwin explains that most of these speeches had to do with power in America. The Nation of Islam claimed that all white people were devils and would soon meet their downfall. Allah passed on his message to their main prophet, Elijah Muhammad: the white man’s rule would end in ten or fifteen years. Baldwin notes that the crowd immediately accepted this explanation. He equates their acceptance of this theology with the way that Christians unthinkingly accepted the story of Ham, which justified their belief that black people were inherently inferior. The Harlem crowd understandably believed the claim that white men were devils, since their personal experience corroborated this claim; white men had mistreated them their whole lives. Baldwin also notes that Elijah Muhammad’s message was not new, but had been preached for more than thirty years by the time he heard it in Harlem. He explains that Elijah Muhammad first starting developing these beliefs when he was six years old and his father was lynched before his eyes. As he developed his beliefs in the late 1950s and early 1960s, his message started to resonate and gain popularity, not because of his own actions, but thanks to the passage of time.
By the power of time, Baldwin means that a militant message like Elijah Muhammad’s can only settle into an oppressed peoples’ consciousness after some time has passed. Elijah Muhammad himself did not change his message at any point, but it only became popular when people were ready to hear and accept it. Baldwin explains that time is a powerful force that always brings institutions and people to the ground; it can crush kingdoms, reveal the foundations of power structures, and show doctrines to be false. In other words, people often need some time in order to accept new ideals. For African Americans, it took more than a hundred years to truly recognize and internalize the oppression they faced and the ways in which whites were to blame for their misfortunes.
Part of what pushed African Americans to finally see the hypocrisy of white Christians was World War Two and the Holocaust. It became evident that white people could be monstrous to each other, and thus could not be the pure and superior beings they had long claimed to be. Personally, Baldwin was also alarmed by the genocide of the Jews at the hands of white Europeans; if other white people could be slaughtered in this way, why would African Americans not run the danger of a similar fate at the hands of white Americans? At the same time, black Americans’ service in World War Two gave them personal experience with white hypocrisy. Although they had risked their lives for their country, they were mistreated during and after the war, anyway. All of these lessons from World War Two made Elijah Muhammad’s message seem more appealing. Baldwin also reemphasizes the willful ignorance of white Americans as another potential threat. He knows from personal experience that white men treat black men very differently from how they treat one another, and yet remain in denial of this fact. If they cannot even recognize their own complicity, they cannot be persuaded to act any differently.
Nevertheless, although he does not trust their ability to empathize, Baldwin does exhort white men to put themselves in a black man’s shoes. He describes the situation of a man who fought for his country, was stilled called a “nigger” by his comrades-in-arms, could not socialize with these other men, and then went home to find that he still had to ride on segregated buses, see his wife and son’s plaintive eyes, and listen to political speeches that dehumanized him in his own country. This kind of man would necessarily feel embittered by his situation and would be likely to accept Elijah Muhammad’s message. Baldwin remembers his own experience at a bar with other friends who were around the age of thirty, but were refused service by a bartender who did not believe they were of legal age. He reflects that the worst part of this experience was that no one else in the bar came to their defense, although there were many witnesses who could have intervened. In fact, one white man directly admitted, “I lost my conscience a long time ago.” Moreover, the fact that humanity had recently developed weapons of mass destruction increased the sense of a void; if humans had achieved the ability to exterminate themselves, in the name of a white God, then the concept of this white God was worthless and must be replaced by something else—but with what? For followers of Elijah Muhammad, the answer was: by a black God.
Baldwin then recounts his personal encounter with Elijah Muhammad, who invited him to his home in Chicago. At the time, he did not give Elijah Muhammad much thought. Muhammad had appeared on TV with Malcolm X shortly before this invitation, and was then often compared to him, although they did not actually share the same political views. Baldwin explains that he does agree with many of Malcolm X’s beliefs; for example, his argument that black violence is exaggerated and vilified, and violence on the part of white men is often justified. But he was uncomfortable with his direct equation with Elijah Muhammad. Nevertheless, he accepted Elijah Muhammad’s invitation, with some trepidation. He approached the encounter with a degree of fear because he felt as though he had been summoned into a royal presence. He felt self-conscious about his profession as a writer, which he knew did not have the kind of direct social impact that Elijah Muhammad and his followers would respect. He also felt torn between “love and power, between pain and rage” in a more general sense that made him uneasy about putting himself into an environment that insisted on choosing a side.
Elijah Muhammad greeted Baldwin with exceptional warmth. Baldwin describes him as a genuine and kind man, whose interactions with women lacked the kind of uncomfortable flirtatiousness he had observed in many pastors. Baldwin’s first impression was a positive one; Elijah Muhammad seemed to be a well-meaning man. However, during the dinner, he takes issue with a number of arguments and mannerisms. He is uncomfortable with the way Elijah proposes rhetorical questions and expects his followers to agree with all of his statements, especially his claim that the white man is “the devil.” He notes that Elijah’s power came from his single-mindedness; it was clear to everyone that he truly meant every word he said. He fervently believed that black men once ruled the earth, but were then overthrown and oppressed by white men who kept this secret from them. Soon, the rule of white people would end, as decreed by God, and black men would be able to take back their rightful position. Baldwin, however, cannot buy into such a single-minded view of the world. He feels uncomfortable with this discussion of all white men as “devils,” because he himself has a number of white friends, and does not believe that all white people can be generalized as evil. He knows that he cannot raise this point at the table because no one would be willing to listen to such an argument—they are all set in their views.
Baldwin also struggles with the discussion of how black people should approach the problem of land. Elijah’s followers believe that African Americans must start their own country if they want to have any power. Baldwin, however, points out that this is economically unrealistic because African Americans have always relied on the American economy, and would struggle if suddenly separated from it. Moreover, he believes that the best path to a better future is one that keeps African Americans in America, working to make it better from the inside. Nevertheless, he recognizes that Elijah and his followers present a real threat because they have nothing to lose. They would be willing to embark on the difficult path of forming their own country, because their alternatives seem so much worse. He leaves the dinner noting that the pain and anger of African Americans should not be underestimated. Memorably, one boy tells him, “things won’t ever again be the way they used to be. I know that.” As he makes his way out, Baldwin feels ashamed to leave for a meeting with his white friends in a notably wealthy part of town.
Analysis
In this second section of his letter, Baldwin switches to an even more logical and straightforward tone. His first section made heavier use of figurative language, as Baldwin reflected on his young adulthood and attempted to sketch an evocative picture of what this age was like for him and his friends in Harlem. Now, he shifts his tone to a less nostalgic and more straightforwardly argumentative one. Within his first paragraph of this section, as he is describing how he changed his views on the Nation of Islam movement, Baldwin writes, “then two things caused me to begin to listen to the speeches,” and goes on to elaborate on these two points with a longer explanation. This kind of structure is closer to that of a formal essay than to a memoir. Rather than merely laying out the experience as it occurred, Baldwin tries to explain what it meant, the deeper historical, cultural, and political significance that it embodied. This kind of format is consistent with Baldwin’s shift in focus from recollections of his adolescence to explanations of how his thinking on religion evolved when he was an adult. He is no longer setting the mood or inviting readers into his personal experience, but rather laying out his conclusions.
Baldwin also begins to bring in more historical context and allusions, adding to the formal and argumentative tone of this second section. For example, as he is describing the ways in which African Americans reject the concept of “assimilation,” he references the Tunisian independence movement of 1956. The Tunisians were asked if they were ready to live independently from France; but they responded by asking whether, in fact, the French were ready to live without them. Baldwin uses this historical example to reinforce his point: it is not those who were oppressed who need to conform to their oppressors’ standards, but rather the oppressors who need to learn to change their ways. Baldwin goes on to bring in the example of Germany and the Holocaust, which supports his argument that white men are capable of great atrocities. His use of historical examples not only reinforces these individual points, but also contributes to his general shift in tone toward a more academic and formal style of argument.
Baldwin’s audience is also broader for this letter than it was for his first letter. He is not addressing a specific relative, but rather attempting to convince the general public of his point of view. This is made clear by the ways in which he appeals to his readers to empathize with his and his peers’ perspectives. He even occasionally uses the second person when constructing a scenario with which he wants his readers to identify. For example, when describing the ways in which World War Two in particular stoked African Americans’ anger over their mistreatment by white Americans, he writes, “You must put yourself in the skin of a man who is wearing the uniform of his country.” In this sentence, it is clear that Baldwin is addressing a wider American audience, composed of people who may not immediately relate to this scenario; he is most likely calling on white Americans to empathize. He goes on to appeal to the different senses that would come into play in this situation, constructing a vivid picture for the audience: “see, with his eyes,” and “look into the eyes of his wife,” and “listen, with his ears, to political speeches.” This stylistic choice tells us that Baldwin intended a very different audience for this second letter.
Although this second section has largely shifted away from figurative language, Baldwin does retain some elements of personal reflection on his own struggles. He is focusing on a more recent point in his life, and thus does less to build a vivid picture than he did when describing his adolescence. Nevertheless, he reflects on his profession as a writer in the context of general social ills, and explains that he felt torn between “love and power, pain and rage.” Baldwin’s admission of these personal struggles reflects the general style of this letter, which balances between creative nonfiction and an argumentative essay in the same way that he balanced between his creative profession and his social awareness.
This section ends by shifting toward much broader questions. Once again, this shift represents Baldwin’s movement toward a more argumentative essay format. He concludes by raising general questions about how African Americans can gain any measure of power in the United States, whether they should break off to form their own country, and how the practical economics of this might play out. These questions broaden the scope of the essay. Baldwin is not only discussing his own experience, or the possible experience of his young nephew, or even the experiences of African Americans in his community. Instead, he has begun to consider how all African Americans can address their general plight in the United States. He has expanded the possibilities beyond a personal, loving approach toward the possibility of breaking off to form their own country. And he has also expanded his considerations beyond a change in attitudes toward a change in economic and political arrangements.
