by indiemcemopants
In a 1967 speech, Martin Luther King, Jr., criticizing black separatism, said, "In the final analysis the weakness of Black Power is its failure to see that the black man needs the white man and the white man needs the black man. However much we may try to romanticize the slogan, there is no separate black path to power and fulfillment that does not intersect white paths, and there is no separate white path to power and fulfillment, short of social disaster, that does not share that power with black aspirations for freedom and human dignity
We are bound together in a single garment of destiny." It was his philosophy of inclusion which has led to civil rights expansions across generations. From
Letter from a Birmingham Jail until the end of his life, he believed that we're all in this together, that we rise and fall with each other. There was no us vs. them, nobody he wouldn't embrace or persuade to join in the fight for civil rights.
August 28, 1963's protest speech was about that same inclusive philosophy.
David Broder writes:
I filled my notebook with comments from marchers who had journeyed long distances and the reasons they gave me for making the effort. A few had specific political agendas -- voicing their distaste for the blockades the legislation had encountered. But most said that they had heard about the plans at church or at temple and simply decided they wanted to be part of it. They came to affirm their solidarity and, if you will, their humanity.
What became apparent, as the masses moved slowly along the Reflecting Pool and gathered before the steps of the Lincoln Memorial, was that if this was a mob, it was the most benign mob in history.
What would become the iconic "I Have A Dream" speech started with a protest, it started with the general goal of promoting basic human rights. The White House was terrified. A bunch of unhappy protesters descending upon the Capitol would probably scare anyone. But especially them. Promises were made about civil rights expansions during the 1963 campaign. The candidate himself promised to promote civil rights more, and then, with the appointment of RFK in his administration, it seemed like he was taking them seriously.
And then, nothing.
The frustration was great because hopes for civil rights had been raised so high by John F. Kennedy's campaign rhetoric and by his decision to name his brother Robert as attorney general. The top ranks of the Justice Department were filled with civil rights advocates, but on Capitol Hill, the traditional opponents were slow-walking every bill, with scarcely an audible objection from the White House.
A campaign which promised equality, used flowery, beautiful rhetoric, and then started making promising appointments early on. An administration and Congress which then decided to slow walk important equality bills. A spineless government unwilling to change in the face of a broad social movement, yearning for nothing short of full acceptance and inclusion.
