But Archie wasn’t interested in wasting his time on the boisterous boxer. A former road manager for The Platters, Robinson did not know anything about the fight game or Clay except that he found him a bit obnoxious. “He’s a clown,” he said. “I don’t play with amateurs.” Malcolm’s tone turned serious. He was not asking for a favor. He was giving him an assignment. “It’s not about boxing,” he said. “One day this kid is going to be heavyweight champion of the world, and he’s going to embrace the Nation of Islam. Do you understand what that could mean?”18
Robinson did. He recognized that the minister believed that Clay could become a unifying force for the Nation. He also understood that Malcolm could not always be close to Clay. He had too many responsibilities and too many appointments. That’s why he needed Robinson. When reporters noticed the new adviser escorting Cassius around town, he revealed little about their relationship and never mentioned Malcolm’s name. “We were brought together by certain persons who knew us in New York,” he cryptically told a writer.19
The more time Cassius spent with Robinson and Malcolm, the more he questioned his contract with the Louisville Sponsoring Group. In New York, Clay boasted that he was “going to free himself from the domination of his 12 white managers from Louisville.” As he had said in London, “I am my own master.” But as long as white men controlled his career and his finances, Malcolm taught him, he would never be truly free. At some point he would have to break the white man’s shackles.20
His association with the Nation threatened the conservative sports establishment. Dan Parker maintained that the Black Muslims were just using Clay as a propaganda tool and that the boxer did not realize how they might damage his career. But Clay was not the dimwitted fool that Parker made him out to be. He fully understood the risks of associating with the Nation. Ever since he met Sam Saxon in Miami, he’d made sure not to talk about his relationship with the Muslims. If Clay had wanted to promote Elijah Muhammad’s message, he could have done so, but he didn’t. He knew exactly what he was doing.21
Reporters and the members of the LSG were not the only ones interested in Clay’s involvement with the Muslims. A day after Parker published his column, the FBI’s Chicago field office filed a memorandum justifying the continued surveillance on Elijah Muhammad’s mansion. The special agent in charge reported that the surveillance had “proven extremely valuable in covering the overall activities of the NOI.” The Bureau had learned about the sect’s vulnerabilities and discovered that Cassius Clay, “the well-known heavyweight title contender, had made arrangements to meet ELIJAH MUHAMMAD and to also have his parents meet The Messenger.”22
Clearly, Malcolm was not the only power broker inside the Nation courting Clay. After seeing the way that his followers responded to Clay at the Philadelphia rally, Muhammad grasped the boxer’s propaganda value. Given his interest in recruiting more converts and selling more copies of Muhammad Speaks, Elijah relaxed his strict prohibition against Muslim participation in sports, as long as it “remained in its proper perspective” and did not interfere “with the attainment of good education and the building of a strong nation.” He also authorized his son Herbert to publish more articles on black athletic achievements in the pages of Muhammad Speaks. Wider sports coverage, Elijah reasoned, would generate more newspaper sales and help him disseminate his message.23
Previous accounts of this dramatic moment have insisted that Elijah Muhammad had no interest in Clay before he won the heavyweight title. But that story simply isn’t true. In fact, Muhammad had set his sights on bringing him closer to the center of the Nation well before he fought Sonny Liston. Of course, he also knew that Clay’s value rose in proportion to his feats in the ring. If Cassius defeated Liston, it would prove the power of the righteous and affirm the Messenger’s divine authority to bless those who followed him.
MALCOLM WAS SITTING at a back table in the Shabazz Restaurant counseling his lieutenants when the phone rang. A shout went out to Captain Joseph; it was his wife on the other line. He walked over to the phone booth and picked up the receiver. Her voice was frantic. After Joseph hung up the phone, he walked back toward Malcolm’s table looking visibly shaken. Then he announced to everyone in the luncheonette: President Kennedy had been shot.24
Malcolm asked one of the brothers to retrieve a radio from the back of the restaurant. When they dialed in to a news station, the announcer said, “To repeat, we’re confirming that the President has been shot in Dallas, Texas, and at this point we don’t know how serious it is.” Outside the Harlem restaurant, blacks huddled in front of appliance store windows and crowded inside bars, watching live news broadcasts on television.25