Four years before, as an Olympic champion in Rome, he had defended America. Now he abandoned the government’s official line. Emerging as a potent international symbol of anti-American defiance, he described America as a violent country where blacks who demanded freedom were “getting killed” and children were “being bombed in churches.” History showed, he said, that whites and blacks could not get along because “the so-called master doesn’t want his slave to be his equal. This is America.”40
ON FRIDAY, MAY 22, Ali flew by private plane to Kumasi, Ghana’s “Garden City,” where more than five thousand people greeted him. Rivaling his welcome in Accra, locals filled the streets as his caravan meandered downtown, paralyzing traffic. Sitting atop a convertible, Ali, perspiring beneath his white shirt and loosened dark tie, led the crowd in his usual call-and-response routine. Shopkeepers, clerks, and merchants left their jobs just to see the famous American champion. Teenagers climbed trees, scrambling for a better view, while others rode bicycles alongside his car. For them, Ali was a symbol of black pride. “By returning to Africa,” a Daily Graphic columnist wrote, “he has fulfilled a long cherished mission which the other great Afro-American champions left unaccomplished.” Ali, another writer explained, “is a real specimen of the African. He thinks anything the white man can do the African can do better.”41
At Kumasi Sports Stadium, thousands of fans watched him spar with his brother, raising money for the Kwame Nkrumah Trust Fund, a charitable organization. Throwing very few punches against Rahman, he mostly stalked his brother around the ring and chased the referee. Near the end of the match, he “feigned grogginess, then fell to the canvas, stunning the crowd.” Bouncing back to his feet, the crowd roared with applause. Assuring his fans, he said, “If we had been really fighting, I would have won in one.”42
AFTER SPENDING THREE weeks in Ghana, on June 1 Ali traveled to Lagos, Nigeria. For hours, a few thousand fans waited at the Lagos International Airport, holding signs that read, “Welcome Back Home Mohammed Ali King of the World.” Reporters, photographers, and government officials greeted the champ while fans shouted his name, convincing him that he really was the most popular man in the world. A crowd swarmed his car, pressing against it as they reached out to touch him. “They love me, they love me,” he kept repeating.43
The ebullient mood was short-lived. Many local newsmen disapproved of his egotism, listening to him deride Joe Louis and Floyd Patterson for not being “true world champions willing to travel everywhere like me.” Making matters worse, Ali angered his hosts from the National Sports Council when he informed them that he could not stay more than three days. The council had expected him to visit for a week and perform two boxing exhibitions, just as he had in Ghana. Stunned by Ali’s sudden change of plans, the officials could not understand why he had reneged on their agreement. A day after he arrived, he visited the American embassy, where he explained to his hosts that he already had plans to travel to Egypt. “They got big things planned for me in Cairo. Nasser is gonna see me and it’s gonna be really big. The only plane to Cairo this week [leaves on] Wednesday, so I gotta go.” His hosts protested, reminding him that thousands of Nigerian fans were counting on him, but he insisted that Egypt was “more important than Nigeria.”44
Outraged, Hogan “Kid” Bassey, former world bantamweight champion and Olympic boxing coach, scolded Ali. Egypt, he said, was not more important than Nigeria. Gripping the arms of his chair, he explained that Nigeria was the biggest country in Africa. In fact, one in five Africans lived in Nigeria. Of course, “every Nigerian schoolboy” knew that, but Ali didn’t.45
“Well,” Ali replied, “isn’t Egypt the powerfulest country with all them rockets and their big army and their dam?”
“Mr. Muhammad,” Bassey exclaimed, “you are a champion. You are supposed to keep your promises. We scheduled an exhibition in Ibadan. Thousands have bought tickets to see you. We organized a soccer game especially in your honor. We invited important officials to banquets. You were picked to judge the Miss Nigeria contest Saturday.” His voice rising, Bassey fumed, “If you leave us now, you’ll mess everything up.”
At that point Bassey and Ali were no longer just talking. Now they were sparring with words, and Ali was determined to prove that he was the better fighter. “Now look,” he said, pointing his finger at Bassey, “I don’t appreciate anybody telling me to do this or do that. Nobody tells me what to do or when to do it but me.”