Chances are that August 17, 2002 won't go down in history as a particularly pivotal day for the pro-reparations movement. Not only did the Millions for Reparations Rally -- held on a small patch of the Mall immediately in front of the nation's capital for seven hours -- fall well short of a million participants. The event also indicated why formal legal channels, rather than popular demonstrations or legislative action, may be the best way for the descendants of America's slaves to pursue compensation for centuries of slavery and discrimination in the United States.
One of the most jarring aspects of the rally was the alarming rhetoric flowing from center stage. "I heard black people get happy on pay day," shouted Hashim Nzinga, the national chief of staff for the New Black Panther Party. "Well it's pay day!" he continued excitedly, before introducing Malik Zulu Shabazz, the 34-year-old party chairman. Shabazz's group, it should be noted, has been denounced by members of the original Black Panther Party and its heirs for some of its more reactionary views and anti-Semitic rhetoric.
Shabazz followed Nzinga's stereotype-laden comments with a bit of race baiting: "You've heard of pin the tail on the donkey? Well now it's time to pin the tale on the honkey!" Then Shabazz suggested that it was also time for his adherents to "pass the ammunition" and get ready for battle. Shabazz closed his speech with a plug for a new rap CD he'd just released.
The idea for the Millions for Reparations Rally originated at the World Conference on Racism in Durban, South Africa last fall, where it drew support from several organizations in attendance including the National Black United Front and the National Coalition of Blacks for Reparations in America. But aside from brief appearances by Louis Farrakhan -- who actually seemed moderate when he suggested that any form of redress be used wisely -- and Rep. John Conyers Jr. (D-MI), the nation's most recognized reparations supporters were missing on Saturday. Harvard Law Professor Charles Ogletree, who is leading a team of lawyers planning to sue private companies and the federal government for reparations, was nowhere to be seen. Neither was his famed colleague in that effort, attorney Johnnie Cochran (despite assurances in pre-rally press materials that he would be in attendance). Also absent were the nearly ubiquitous Revs. Al Sharpton and Jesse Jackson.
These leading reparations advocates were replaced by fringe elements that lent little credibility to the cause. In one of the rally's many low points, the Rev. Herbert Daughtry, of the House of the Lord Church in Brooklyn, New York, informed the crowd, "I don't care how many welfare checks you get, they will not pay you for the labor of your ancestors." He immediately followed this with the arguably contradictory adage, "just don't get a welfare mentality while you're collecting your checks!"
As a reparations supporter, I was highly disappointed by all the grandstanding and racially charged rhetoric spewing forth from the main stage. For the first time in my life, I saw where the argument against cries of victimhood from within the black community could have some validity.
Indeed, the mish-mash of leaders from the various fringe groups sponsoring the rally will undoubtedly hurt the more serious case for reparations in the form of educational and social welfare programs to help bridge the income gap that still divides black and white Americans. Many participants seemed completely unaware that the reparations movement could use a broader base of support, and in place of sound arguments unleashed talk of "white devils," "slave masters," and "modern-day imperialists." Amorphous calls to "live black" and "be black" by several speakers were, like many refrains, met with raised right fists and cheering replies from the crowd. Meanwhile, kiosk operators made a killing hawking red, black and green American flags, and Afrocentric literature.
And the rally wasn't even well organized. Speakers seemed to be pulled from behind the stage almost at random, only to be informed mid-speech that their time was almost up (as happened to Shabazz about 5 minutes into his diatribe). At around 3:30 in the afternoon, Viola Plummer, the head of the coordinating umbrella group Millions for Reparations, instructed the crowd to let white people know afterwards that "we did have a program." This request came just after she interrupted her co-host, radio talk show host Bev Smith, who was attempting to introduce the wrong speaker.
A few minutes later Plummer unleashed a group of black-clad volunteers carrying blue plastic collection buckets upon the crowd, informing her audience that "a group of white people are on my neck asking for their last payment." According to Plummer, much of the cost of the rally was coming out of her pocket.
Hundreds of those in attendance for the event had bused in from as far away as New Orleans and Chicago. Still, the rally barely stretched one block from its starting point in front of the nation's capital. Inevitably, it garnered confused (and concerned) looks from passers-by. The occasional white family scuttling nervously through the crowd to safety further down the Mall could not help but elicit a few chuckles from older blacks engaged in spirited debates on benches and lawn chairs. "I just think that everybody's been oppressed," said Paula Flowers, a 40-year old white DC resident who said she's against any form of reparations. "Jews were enslaved by the Egyptians for 400 years."
To the central question of the afternoon -- namely, "how much they owe us" -- the answer generally came back as some nebulous, astronomical and amorphous amount, oddly enough often invoked as an actual paycheck (something more mainstream reparations advocates have cautioned against). As I watched I could just imagine the right wing columnists licking their chops (sure enough, David Horowitz has already swung hard at the event). Indeed, perhaps the disappointing tenor of the whole event was best displayed by R & B musician Jimmy Rutherford. At the rally's close, Rutherford sang -- in a supposedly "pro-reparations" song -- that he wanted "a house on the hill and a brand new 2002 Coupe de Ville."
Even more telling, on the far end of the Mall a number of black families could be seen eating ice-cream on park benches or holding hot dogs as their toddlers downed ice-cold sodas, completely unaware of the event allegedly being held on their behalf. Due to the lack of coordinated promotion, almost all of the posters advertising the rally had been torn down or covered up before the event actually took place. Word of mouth wasn't much better. "I didn't hear a word about the rally," said Lu Codrington, a 39-year-old African-American from the Northeast of Washington D.C. on his way to visit a friend that afternoon. "They did a bad job of advertising it," said 34-year old Walter Royster, who was accompanying him, "cause ain't nobody heard about it." That, indeed, might not have been a bad thing.
