Re: Martin Luther King Jr. the Amerikan Traitor
Oops, sorry Drak. Didn't notice you already posted that one"Beast as a Saint".
I found a couple more, though.
DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING...
AND HIS COMMUNIST CONNECTIONS
By: Chuck Morse
America maintains a longstanding tradition of analyzing the political beliefs of its leaders. Indeed, the founders protected this inalienable right with the first amendment to the Constitution. Such examinations were viewed as essential to the preservation of freedom and democracy. This is why an examination of the career of the late Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King is necessary. His influence was and continues to be immense. Anything less constitutes a dangerous abrogation of responsibility.
That King maintained communist connections are an undisputed matter of public record. This is no less significant, I would contend, than if King had maintained Nazi connections. His actions and utterances influenced generations of Americans yet we tremble with fear over discussing his beliefs because doing so means running the risk of being smeared as a racist. The irony, lost on most, is that those hurling this dastardly charge are often themselves racist by any definition of the term. But as the legendary broadcaster Edward R. Murrow was reported to have said to Fred Friendly, his TV producer, regarding their fear of broadcasting a segment on Joe McCarthy in 1956, "If the fear is in this room, lets do it."
While Martin Luther King was by no means a hard-left witting participant in the international communist conspiracy, he nevertheless surrounded himself with hard-core communists and fellow travelers and embraced a philosophy that could be described as cultural Marxism. This embrace by King would influence generations of African-Americans much to their detriment.
The Kennedy Administration, including President John F. Kennedy himself, warned King to dis-associate himself from Communists. He responded by doing so publicly while continuing the relationships covertly. The belief that King was being used as a tool for communist manipulation of the civil rights movement led Attorney General Robert F. Kennedy to order the F.B.I. to conduct wiretaps. These wiretaps would reveal the extremely active extramarital sex life of King, a Baptist Minister, but that is not germane to our subject. Perhaps the reluctance of the Kennedy Administration to get behind the civil rights movement was due to its concern over the possibility of communist infiltration.
King was close, both personally and professionally, to New York Lawyer Stanley D. Levison who was identified by highly placed communist informant Jack Childs as having been a chief conduit of Soviet funds to be dispersed to the Communist Party USA. Levison was involved in the financial, organizational, and public relations aspects of Dr. King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference. According to F.B.I. wiretaps, Levison prepared King's May 1962 speech before the United Packing House Workers Convention, and his responses to questions from a Los Angeles radio station regarding the 1965 Los Angeles race riots.
According to David J. Garrow, in his book "The FBI and Martin Luther King Jr., published by Yale University Press, Levison assisted King in writing his book "Stride Toward Freedom," as well as contributions to SCLC, and recruitment of SCLC employees. Levison refused King’s offer of compensation for his services writing, "The liberation struggle [i.e., the civil rights movement] is the most positive and rewarding area of work anyone could experience."
In June 1962, Levison recommended Hunter Pitts O'Dell for executive assistant at SCLC. According to Congressional testimony, O’Dell pled the Fifth when asked if he was a member of the CPUSA in a hearing before the House Committee on Un-American Activities on July 30, 1958. According to the FBI, O'Dell was an elected member of the National Committee of the CPUSA. It is reasonable to assume, based on conventional knowledge of the MO of the communists at the time, that Levison and O’Dell were Martin Luther King’s Soviet handlers.
Reams of documents, much of which remains classified, discuss King’s communist connections. I will end with a discussion of a speech King delivered at the Riverside Church in New York, April 4, 1967, a few days prior to the beginning of "Vietnam Week" because of the light it sheds on his philosophy. CPUSA member Bettina Aptheker, daughter of CPUSA member Herbert Aptheker, had devised "Vietnam Week" at a December 1966 conference at the University of Chicago. The HCUA found that the U of C conference "was instigated and dominated by the CPUSA and the W.E.B. DuBois Clubs of America," and was described by Attorney General Katzenbach as "substantially directed, dominated and controlled by the Communist Party."
In his speech, King portrayed U.S. troops in Vietnam as foreign conquerors and oppressors, and he compared the United States to Nazi Germany. He stated "we herd them [the South Vietnamese people] off the land of their fathers into concentration camps where minimal social needs are rarely met.... So far we may have killed a million of them-mostly children. What do they think as we test out our latest weapons on them, just as the Germans tested out new medicine and new tortures in the concentration camps of Europe."
King spoke of U.S. government as "the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today." He portrayed the Communist dictator Ho Chi Minh as the victim of American aggression: "Perhaps only his [Ho Chi Minh's] sense of humor and of irony can save him when he hears the most powerful nation of the world speaking of aggression as it drops thousands of bombs on a poor weak nation more than 8,000 miles away from its shores." King portrayed American policy in Vietnam and in general as motivated by a "need to maintain social stability for our investments" and saw "individual capitalists of the West investing huge sums of money in Asia, Africa and South America, only to take the profits out with no concern for the social betterment of the countries."
Whether or not this communist agitprop was spoon fed to King by Levison or other handlers is beside the point. King said nothing against the brutal North Vietnamese or for that matter a world Communist movement that was murdering over 100 million people. Life magazine (April 21, 1967) described King's speech as "a demagogic slander that sounded like a script for Radio Hanoi." His opposition to the war was clearly not motivated by concern for the best interests of the US but by a desire for the victory of North Vietnam. His anti-capitalist sentiments and his pro-totalitarian tendencies have been destructive to African-Americans ever since.
THIS NEXT ONE PROVES MLK JR. DAMNED SURE AIN'T NO CHRISTIAN, CUZ HE PREACHED A DIFFERENT DOCTRINE.
THE LEGACY OF DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.
by Rev. Kit Ketcham, January 16, 2000
What was your first experience with racism? The first time you realized that being a different color or nationality could be a handicap?
As a young girl growing up in Umatilla County, I went to school with girls and boys of the Cayuse, Yakama, and Umatilla Indian nations. We admired their ethnicity, a bit envious that our friends Belva and Joyce Hoptowit were princesses in the Pendleton Roundup festivities, fabulous in their white deerskin dresses, feathers, quills, and beaded jewelry. Belva and Joyce got to ride horses anytime they wanted to, quite a privilege, we thought. And they rode in all the parades all over the Northwest, representing the Cayuse Nation.
I had a terrific crush on Jimmy and Joey Quaempts, whose basketball prowess and chiseled good looks wowed all the girls in my tiny high school.
But I couldn’t reconcile the obvious discrepancy between the achievement and glory of my high school Indian friends and a couple of bothersome other things.
Twenty miles away, in Walla Walla, Washington, there is a historical site called the Whitman Massacre Memorial. This is, as you probably know, the preserved ruin of an old mission, where Narcissa and Marcus Whitman, Presbyterian missionaries, had been killed, along with several other white missionaries, by Cayuse warriors.
The legend, at that time, was that the defenseless Whitmans had only been trying to help the pagan Cayuse and were murdered for their efforts. Little mention was made of the disease and cultural change which accompanied the Whitmans and thousands of white settlers to Cayuse territory.
I didn’t know what to think about my Cayuse friends and their apparently murderous ancestors; I was inclined to think that the Cayuse had been pushed beyond endurance by white invasion of their lands and their customs, but this was not a popular opinion in the 50’s, and I kept it to myself.
In addition to the puzzle of the Whitman Massacre, I was well aware of the fate of many Native American adults. Alcoholism and poverty seemed to be the lot of most adult Native Americans; the nearby reservation was ugly and barren, homes were dilapidated trailers or shacks. I couldn’t imagine beautiful Belva and Joyce or handsome Joey and Jimmy living out their adult lives in such squalor, but I knew that Indian princesses and basketball stars couldn’t stay young forever, and their prospects beyond high school seemed dim.
During my college years, I was fortunate to have many classmates of other ethnicities. Black and Asian students were in most of my courses and participated in the same activities I enjoyed. Prejudice seemed to be nonexistent in that small community. But during the summer before my senior year, I got a call from the Dean of Women, who asked if I would be willing to share my single dorm room with my sorority sister Millie.
Millie had been planning to room with Judy, but Judy’s parents had thrown a fit when they found out Millie was black. They refused to allow Judy to room with a black student. Would I room with Millie? I wasn’t excited about giving up my solitude, but I liked Millie and I was appalled by Judy’s parents’ attitude. So Millie and I became roommates for our senior year at Linfield College, and I realized that the specter of racial prejudice loomed even in that protected environment.
I graduated in June of 1963. In August of 1963, several of my Linfield friends participated in the March on Washington, where Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his memorable “I Have a Dream” speech, and the Civil Rights era was born. Suddenly my budding racial conscience surged. I began to understand that the woes of my Native American friends and my black college roommate were connected. I began to dimly see that my whiteness gave me privileges and opportunities that they did not have. I became uncomfortably aware that there were huge differences between me and my Indian and black friends.
I wasn’t yet aware enough to understand those differences. I did not immediately see that I unconsciously took advantage of those differences. I was not overtly prejudiced, but I did not let myself consider the meaning of the differences in our lives. I did feel drawn to work with people of other races, and as a home missionary in the ghettos of Denver, I spent my days with adults and children of many ethnicities: Indian, Hispanic, Black, Asian, mixed race. I enjoyed my work and felt accepted by my colleagues and clients. But mine was one of a very few Anglo faces at the Denver Christian Center in 1965.
Martin Luther King, Jr., had by this time become a hero and challenger of the national conscience. I was in awe of this man and puzzled by his message. We were both Baptist, but whereas I had been trained to believe that my message as a Christian and as a Baptist was supposed to be conversion, saving souls for Christ, Dr. King’s message was that human beings should treat one another with love and respect.
Dr. King wasn’t sticking to the script, I noticed. Since I didn’t like the saving souls for Christ script myself, I was relieved to learn that others believed that there were religious principles beyond taking Jesus as one’s personal savior. Dr. King had obviously moved beyond that simplistic notion of personal salvation to a concept of human salvation that certainly superseded what I’d heard in church.
My boss, the Rev. George Turner, also Black, didn’t preach taking Jesus as personal savior either. He preached justice. He preached mercy. He preached equal rights for all humankind.
Gradually, I began to see that Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was more than a minister, more than a Baptist Christian. He had set aside these roles and these principles in favor of a higher purpose, that of bringing Americans, both black and white, to an understanding and love and respect for one another that would eliminate violence and injustice.
When Dr. King was assassinated, in April of l968, it felt as though justice and mercy had also been assassinated. Efforts by such politicians as J. Edgar Hoover of the FBI, attempted to discredit Dr. King as a liar, a womanizer, a Communist. Though these efforts largely failed, and Dr. King’s birthday has become a national holiday, hope in the African American community plummeted.
Riots and destructive retaliation surged in the United States. Black Power advocates began to proclaim their message, that non-violence didn’t work, that Dr. King, though admirable, had been wrong, that it was necessary for Blacks to seize the power they had so long been denied--by violence, if necessary.
America trembled at the idea that racial bloodshed might become commonplace in our land, and riot squads and national guards trained to quell such uprisings. Some scholars saw in this movement a repeat of the terror of the prospect of slave uprisings. The lines were drawn in the sand. Though civil rights laws had been enacted, old jim crow laws had been struck down, and overt discrimination had been legislated out of fashion, the evil of injustice had not been eliminated.
Instead of the improved self-esteem that Black Power advocates had promised, despair increased among Black youth. Confused by laws that promised safety yet subtly harassed on all sides by suspicion and neglect, many Black young men turned to gangs for a sense of belonging, becoming the bully instead of the bullied. Black young women, looking for love and acceptance, might find themselves pregnant and alone, with poverty as a constant companion.
These despairing behaviors were not only common to African American youth; they were also cropping up in the younger population of the Hispanic, Native American, and Asian communities. It began to become clear that racism and poverty were producing communities that were frighteningly similar and dangerous.
As a counselor in predominantly white suburban schools, I saw daily the effects of the gulf between Anglo and non-Anglo kids. Hateful words whispered in the hallways, parents forbidding contact with certain kids, brown faces more often in the principal’s office, the suspicion that seemed to dog students of color, the uneasiness when groups of Hispanic or Black kids banded together in friendship, the wariness about colors and styles which might signify gang relationships. Anglo kids “got away” with stuff; non-Anglo kids usually did not.
My efforts to supply a healthy outlet for the 35 “ethnic minority” kids at Oberon Middle School in Arvada, Colorado, met with a good deal of resistance. The administration did not want to appear racist, but they were n ervous about minority kids getting together in a “Cultural Diversity” group. They expected trouble.
A moment ago, I mentioned that MLK was not your orthodox Baptist minister. MLK saw beyond Baptist doctrine to the deeper religious issues of love and justice. This was his message, not the orthodox message of Jesus as personal savior. I’ve come to believe that much of our rhetoric around racial issues today is orthodox. We are inclined to believe that the American dream is the same for everyone, just as our fundamentalist neighbors believe that their doctrine is right for everyone.
This is not true. The American dream is not the same for all. For people of color, and others who are at the mercy of our systems and institutions, the American dream has more to do with not being afraid than with making lots of money. Not being afraid of being judged and persecuted for one’s skin color, one’s name, one’s sexual orientation, one’s gender, one’s size, one’s age, one’s abilities.
The orthodox view is that everyone has the same chance. The more informed view is that there are subtle systems and invisible barriers that create fear and prevent progress. Most people do not take time to think through and let themselves become aware of the subtle, insidious power of racism and white privilege. They believe our politicians when they say that we don’t need affirmative action any more, or that civil rights laws have created a level playing field for all, regardless of color, religion, or sexual orientation.
Listen to MLK’s words as he describes the effects of racism which go beyond overt discrimination. His words portray the sense of despair and defeat that is often the daily bread of a person of color, but we could substitute the words “gay”, “poor”, “homeless”, “disabled”, among others. To understand racism, classism, ableism, heterosexism, and any of the many negative “isms” that cripple other humans, we need to feel it from this point of view.
“Being a Negro in America is not a comfortable existence. It means being a part of the company of the bruised, the battered, the scarred, and the defeated. Being a Negro in America means trying to smile when you want to cry. It means trying to hold on to physical life amid psychological death. It means the pain of watching your children grow up with clouds of inferiority in their mental skies. It means having your legs cut off, and then being condemned for being a cripple. It means seeing your mother and father spiritually murdered by the slings and arrows of daily exploitation, and then being hated for being an orphan. Being a Negro in America means listening to suburban politicians talk eloquently against open housing while arguing in the same breath that they are not racists. It means being harried by day and haunted by night by a nagging sense of nobodiness and constantly fighting to be saved from the poison of bitterness. It means the ache and anguish of living in so many situations where hopes unborn have died.”
Racism, as we are coming to understand it, is the misused power of institutions and systems plus race prejudice. Privilege is what I have because I am a member of the dominant group. I don’t have to worry about losing a job or being suspected of a crime because of my color or sexual orientation or age or economic status. Many others do not have this privilege.
There is a sinister relationship between racism, sexism, classism, homophobia, and other types of oppression. When human beings are violated at the deepest levels of their identity, when people are insulted or under constant suspicion because of their race, when people are raped, when children are abused, when gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgendered persons are denied jobs or homes, all because of a fundamental piece of their being, something which is so crucial to their identity, something happens to the human psyche.
Despair makes people self-destructive, whether that is evidenced by suicidal feelings, angry violence toward others, stress-related illnesses, alcohol and drug abuse, and a host of other masochistic behaviors. Despair makes people strike out at one another. Despair makes people fear and hate one another. And despair is a vicious cycle. Our despair, our lack of hope and sense of belonging to life, leads us to cause others to feel despair and hopelessness.
What are we as Unitarian Universalists doing about racism and white privilege? What have we learned from Martin Luther King’s life and death?
We have not always been very committed and aware. In the early days of Unitarian Universalism as a merged denomination, our religious association was inclined to believe the orthodox position, that integration and an end to active discrimination were the answers to the “race question”. We did not see that integration implied assimilation, required giving up a basic sense of identity, insisted that fitting into the dominant paradigm was the answer to racial tension.
Through a number of events involving Black UUs who pushed our denomination’s leadership into a crisis of decision, we gradually learned that true equality meant shared power. It meant that Blacks did not have to agree to act white, that the UUA could not make empty promises about funding racial justice programs, that tokenism in granting leadership positions was an inadequate response to the idea of shared power.
This was confusing stuff to white liberals who had always considered themselves equality-minded. It took a long time for Unitarian Universalists to understand that there was more going on than active discrimination, that the underlying attitudes of unconscious white privilege and institutional, passive discrimination created a far greater problem than overt prejudice.
With overt prejudice, at least people knew what to expect. With privilege and institutional racism, there was always a question--is it my color that caused me to be laid off? is it my race that caused me to be denied a loan? And it was easy for the power structure to deny because it was so hard to prove and because often they were not even conscious of having done it.
In order to overcome existing racism, the insidious racism of white privilege and Black self-doubt, both parties had to acknowledge that deeply-imbedded attitudes and assumptions had to be rooted out and dismantled.
This was no easy task, but the UUA has begun that process, with an extensive program of anti-racism offered to congregations, helping Unitarian Universalists come to grips with white privilege, understanding how we take advantage of it without even wanting to, and how to equalize the privilege, so that all have what they need.
What do we, here at Wy’east Unitarian Universalist Congregation, need to do to dismantle the racism inherent in most institutional settings? How do we exhibit to the larger community that we are a welcoming congregation in the broadest sense of the term, that we welcome all to our sanctuary, that here all are equally privileged, that here we really mean it when we affirm and promote the inherent worth and dignity of every person, that here we work toward justice, equity and compassion in human relations, that here, all voices are heard in the spirit of true democracy, that our goal is world community, and that we understand that unless all are free, we are not free either.
White guilt doesn’t do anybody any good. We need not beat ourselves up for our lapses and our lack of understanding. We just need to get busy, busy about the work of understanding the meaning of equality, which is our legacy from the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Let’s have a few moments of silent reflection and prayer. hahahahahhahaaaaaaaaaaaa! :-P
So pardon me while I burst into flames.
I\'ve had enough of the world and it\'s people\'s mindless games.
So pardon me while I burn, and rise above the flame. Pardon me, pardon me, I\'ll never be the same. -Brandon Boyd
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int: :evil: :-...