The next day, September 15, Malcolm learned that the Ku Klux Klan had bombed Birmingham’s 16th Street Baptist Church, killing four young black girls. As the father of three daughters and another on the way, he could well imagine the pain the parents suffered. He bristled at calls for turning the other cheek. The bombing was a brutal reminder, he said, that the March on Washington had failed. “The Negroes spent a lot of money, had a good time, and enjoyed a real circus or carnival atmosphere,” he told a reporter. “Now that the show is over, the black masses are still without land, without jobs, and without homes. . . . Their Christian churches are still being bombed, their innocent little girls murdered. So,” he asked the writer, “what did the March on Washington accomplish? Nothing!”52
SINCE JULY, WHEN a reporter from the Chicago Sun-Times caught Cassius Clay leaving Mosque No. 2, writers had been investigating his involvement with the Nation, probing for clues about his relationship with Malcolm. When he was not training, he visited the Nation’s mosques, though he never advertised his presence at Muslim rallies in the same way that he did his attendance at Sonny Liston’s title fights.
In late September, Clay attended an Oakland conference on “The Mind of the Ghetto,” organized by Don Warden, chairman of the Afro-American Association, a Black Nationalist group. Warden invited political figures, celebrities, and athletes, including Clay and Malcolm. Although Malcolm did not attend, John Shabazz, minister of the Los Angeles mosque, represented the Nation. When a reporter questioned Clay about his position on the civil rights movement, he denied interest in joining the struggle. “I don’t stand for anything,” he said. “I’m not a politician. I don’t talk against anything. I’m a peaceful man.” After the writer asked him about his affiliation with the Nation, he replied, “It’s like I said though, I don’t identify myself with anybody—anybody except Cassius Clay.”53
Much as he might deny his involvement with the Nation, his interviews revealed that he had embraced their philosophy. Cassius puzzled writers with a story about how two flocks of birds in Africa fought each other, became temporarily mixed, and then separated. The moral of the story, he explained, was that the “law of nature” created a world where people “should associate with their own kind.”54
Listening to Cassius, reporters detected the Nation’s influence on his evolving identity. In the past, he had proclaimed that he would save boxing because he was the most talented and entertaining fighter in the world. Yet as he listened to Muhammad and spent more time with Malcolm, Clay began thinking of himself as divine, graced by the power of Allah. “I am the resurrection. I am the prophet,” he declared, sent to save boxing. Hearing Muhammad and Malcolm preach about black superiority and the power of true believers affirmed what Cassius had always thought about himself: that he was the greatest.55
After the conference ended, Cassius traveled to Philadelphia to attend Muhammad’s first public lecture of the year. More than six thousand people, including black and white “guests” and reporters, packed the arena at the corner of 45th and Market Streets. Sitting erectly in the third row next to Bundini Brown, Clay listened intently as Muhammad gave a lecture titled “Separation or Death.” The Supreme Minister excoriated the white man, who was “created for the purpose of murdering black people.” If blacks fail to separate from whites, he warned, “they will die.”56
At several points during Muhammad’s harangue, Cassius leapt to his feet, loudly applauding his wisdom, while the Jewish Bundini slumped in his chair with a quizzical look on his face. As an auditory learner, Cassius was mesmerized by what he had heard at Muslim meetings. Since childhood, when his father repeatedly told him tall tales, he had gravitated toward grand stories, legends, and myths. Muhammad’s yarns about the big-head scientist Yacub, the Mother Ship, and white devils excited Cassius the same way that his father aroused his imagination. Muhammad’s simple lessons—that all white men were evil and all black men were good—echoed his father’s rants. Over and over again, he heard Muslim ministers repeat Muhammad’s messages. The oral culture of the Nation emphasized preaching and “fishing,” memorization and recitation, which suited Cassius’s communication style. He did not have to prove that he understood Muhammad’s doctrine by reading and writing. He could learn about history, politics, and religion simply by listening and talking, an empowering feeling for a man with dyslexia.