Liston was as traditional as Cannon, lumping Clay and the Beatles in the same trash heap of modern culture. On Sunday, February 9, the Beatles changed the landscape of popular music with their appearance in New York on The Ed Sullivan Show. As adolescent girls screamed hysterically and an estimated 73 million television viewers looked on in amazement, they sang five songs, ending with their number-one hit single, “I Want to Hold Your Hand.” The next Sunday they made their second appearance on the show, this one televised from the Deauville Hotel in Miami Beach. Liston attended the performance with Joe Louis and publicist Harold Conrad. When Sullivan introduced him, he stood and acknowledged the smattering of cheers, but he was unimpressed with the Beatles. When they began to sing, he nudged Conrad with his elbow and asked, “Are these motherfuckers what all the people are screaming about? My dog plays drums better than that kid with the big nose.”54
After the show Conrad arranged for the Beatles to come to the 5th Street Gym for a photo op with Cassius. It was a pitch-perfect idea, the marriage of sports and music, signaling that at the highest level it was all about entertainment and money. The Beatles were compliant, though none had any interest in boxing. George Harrison remembered, “It was all a part of being a Beatle, really; just getting lugged around and thrust into rooms full of press men taking pictures and asking questions.”55
They had performed in some dingy, cigar-smelling clubs in Hamburg and Liverpool, so the grimy walls and dank smells of the 5th Street Gym were nothing new. But being stiffed by Clay was. “Where the fuck’s Clay?” Ringo asked as they arrived. When John Lennon learned that Cassius was not in the gym, he said to the others, “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” But two security guards blocked their exit and pushed them into an empty dressing room.56
Fifteen minutes later Cassius burst through the door, his personality filling the dressing room. “He was beautiful,” Lipsyte reported. “He seemed to glow. He was laughing.”
“Hello there, Beatles!” he shouted. “We ought to do some road shows together, we’ll get rich.”
The mood of the Beatles brightened immediately. Though the musicians knew almost nothing about Clay, and he had never even heard of them, they seemed to siphon energy from each other. They performed a campy act for the cameramen—Cassius knocking down all four with a single punch, standing over them in a victory pose, grabbing Ringo and lifting him above his head. “They were all, Beatles and boxer alike, consummate showmen; they knew their roles, hit all their cues,” wrote Bob Spitz.
“Clay mesmerized them,” recalled photographer Harry Benson. They were captivated by Clay’s looks—fresh, innocent, oddly an Americanized image of themselves. But more than that, they sensed his physical and emotional power. They were products of their manager, Brian Epstein, packaged and presented according to his uncanny commercial instincts. But Cassius was his own man. He controlled who he was. He had manufactured himself. He lived on his own terms.
It began as a publicity photo op—the Beatles, fresh from a sensational appearance on The Ed Sullivan Show, and Cassius Clay, preparing for his heavyweight title fight against Sonny Liston. No one present in the 5th Street Gym realized that the rock group and the boxer would become the two enduring cultural icons of the 1960s. Associated Press
But living on his own terms came with greater risks than the Beatles realized.
ON FEBRUARY 20, after spending nearly a month in New York, Malcolm X returned to Miami. That night, in the lobby of the Hampton House, he sat on a sofa answering questions from a Herald reporter, a clear violation of his suspension. He could not resist a platform and he loved the attention. Malcolm may have said that he wanted to return to the Nation, but as important as Elijah had been to his development, he had grown beyond the Messenger’s limited goals. He had his own ideas, his own plans, and he wanted the world to know it. What he wanted most was freedom—freedom to speak his mind, freedom to engage politicians and foreign dignitaries, and the freedom to think for himself. At this stage he was unsure of how to achieve his ambitions. He desperately wanted to remain in the Nation, but he wanted it on his own terms.57
The following day, the FBI mailed an anonymous tip to various media outlets suggesting a widening rift between Malcolm and Elijah. Based on wiretap intelligence, specialists working the COINTELPRO fabricated a story, hoping to widen the gulf between Muhammad and Malcolm. The story suggested that the minister felt that “Elijah Muhammad is in his declining years and that he is slipping.” Given the chance, the source claimed, Malcolm “would not hesitate one moment to take over the leadership of the Nation of Islam.” Convinced that the tip came from a legitimate source, journalists began reporting that Malcolm had started a war for power against Muhammad.58