Marches, boycotts, and sit-ins were not revolutionary tactics. “Whoever heard of a revolution where they lock arms,” he asked, “singing ‘We Shall Overcome’? You don’t do that in a revolution. You don’t do any singing, you’re too busy swinging.”5
Malcolm’s speech gave voice to the growing anger in black America. It also reflected his evolving global perspective, linking the black freedom struggle in America to the anticolonialist movement in Africa. Between 1960 and 1963, twenty-four African nations wrested independence from Western colonists. For Malcolm, these revolutions were successful because black people demanded land of their own and “engaged in a bloody battle.” But, he complained, “Negro” civil rights leaders were not demanding land. “These Negroes aren’t asking for any nation—they’re trying to crawl back to the plantation.”6
Listening to him speak that evening, activist Gloria Richardson recognized that Malcolm sounded more like a freedom fighter than a disciple of Elijah Muhammad. He hardly said anything about religion or the Nation of Islam. His speech was not written to build the Nation or praise the teachings of Muhammad. Instead, Malcolm’s “Message to the Grassroots” announced his own vision for a mass movement that unified all black people, regardless of religion. It represented an ideological break from Muhammad, a fusion of Black Nationalism and internationalism, and the declaration of his political independence. That night in Detroit, Richardson “wondered how long it would be before he would break with [the Nation].”7
IF MALCOLM’S LOYALTY to Elijah Muhammad was in doubt, Cassius Clay’s was not. Five days after Malcolm spoke in Detroit, Clay was spotted in New York with three burly Black Muslim security guards. A few days before he was scheduled to film an appearance for The Jack Paar Tonight Show, the Selective Service notified him that he was required to get a physical examination, which would determine his eligibility for the armed services. But Clay wasn’t worried about wearing a uniform or carrying a rifle. “I’ve just spent four hours with God today,” he said after leaving Mosque No. 7. “He’s going to fix it so I won’t have to serve in the Army.”8
Clay found his sanctuary visiting with Malcolm in Harlem at Mosque No. 7, the Shabazz Restaurant, and the Hotel Theresa, where he was staying. Since Clay returned from London that summer, his relationship with Malcolm had deepened. Spending more time in New York, he snuck into meetings with Malcolm. He solicited his mentor’s advice about all things, spiritual and professional. “Malcolm,” he said later, “was very intelligent, with a good sense of humor, a wise man. When he talked, he held me spellbound for hours.”9
In their private moments together, they forged a friendship, a bond, a brotherhood. Clay adored Malcolm and treated him like an older brother. He swelled with pride whenever the minister was near. Malcolm treated him like a man whose thoughts mattered, not like an athlete whose only worth was his body. Cassius, he observed, was “sensitive, very humble, yet shrewd.”10
Studying him, Malcolm recognized that the thoughtful boxer had “a plan in his public clowning.” That plan was on full display when Clay filmed an appearance for The Jack Paar Tonight Show. Before introducing him, Paar mentioned that Clay put on quite “a wild act,” but he found him to be a genuinely “well-mannered young man.” Paar told the audience that offstage, Clay spoke “very quiet and sensibly.” The fighter’s clowning, he suggested, was only an act.11
Paar’s program was known for pairing disparate characters in humorous settings. When Cassius walked onstage, he met Liberace, the flamboyant musician known for his glittering costumes and outrageous personality. When Cassius shook Liberace’s hand, he buckled his knees, feigning injury at the strength of the effeminate musician’s strong grip, provoking laughter from the audience.
Clay reminded Paar that not only was he the “resurrection of the fight game” but someday he would also become a “great singer” too. After he told the host about his upcoming album with Columbia Records, Paar suggested that he and Liberace perform a song together. It seemed like an odd pairing—a black boxer and a closeted gay pianist—but the two were perfectly suited to share the stage. Both men thought of themselves as entertainers and they shared a love for audiences. Liberace sat down at the grand piano, then he abruptly rose from the bench and told Cassius to step aside so that the television viewers could see his candelabra. The crowd roared with laughter as Cassius and Liberace exchanged smiles. Finally, the musician deadpanned to the self-promoting boxer, “For a change, do the one about you.”
After performing a tune, they delivered an encore:
Clay comes out to meet Liston and Liston starts to retreat,
If Liston goes back an inch farther he’ll end up in a ringside seat.
Clay swings with his left, Clay swings with his right,
Look at young Cassius carry the fight.
Liston keeps backing, but there’s not enough room,
It’s a matter of time till Clay lowers the boom.