The unacknowledged significance of Jackie Robinson's achievement was
that it took place at the onset of the Cold War. White America had heard
stirrings from moderate black leaders who questioned whether blacks should
continue to defend the country as part of a segregated army. Soon after,
the actor Paul Robeson provided the larger context, insisting that a colonized
black populace was smart enough to know that joining a war against a Soviet
Union committed to ending world colonialization would only worsen the conditions
of American blacks. Robeson's subsequent branding as a Communist--the "Black
Stalin"--was something no amount of reasoned distinctions on his part
could surmount.
The specter of a fifth column, that hackneyed hangover from the 1930s, prompted
Congress to demand reassurances of loyalty from black leaders. In the summer
of 1949 Robinson testified before the House Un-American Activities Committee.
He pointedly made clear his stance against racial discrimination, but in
a moment he would apologize for years later, castigated Robeson for his
attempts at influence, stating that "we can win the fight without the
Communists and we don't want their help." Robeson, who as early as
1943 had met with baseball club owners and made the case for desegregation,
refused a public contretemps with Robinson, selectively chiding Robinson
that personal success was not enough, and that he, Robeson, also had an
"investment" in America to protect, one which would further wither
under the direction American foreign policy was taking.
The trail to Michael Jordan, Alonzo Mourning and Tiger Woods, one could
safely submit, began in that HUAC hearing room. I recently noted that Rachel
Robinson has said that Jackie would be appalled at the conditions blacks
still experience in this country. Small wonder. The effort toward civil
rights and economic justice through biracial trade unionism which consumed
Paul Robeson (and Martin Luther King) is moribund. In the world of Phil
Knight, there are far fewer American shop floors upon which to toil. At
an earlier time, the successes in labor union inclusion for blacks helped
hold in check potential Cold War hostilities. Stasis was maintained as long
as the political backdrop remained bipolar. When developing countries entered
the mix, the die was cast, and we ought to be pretty much agreed by now
that when Dr. King regarded Vietnam as an example of the poor warring against
the poor, and that blacks had no dog in that fight, he lost his life. It
was the true measure of Jackie Robinson that, after his infatuation with
Richard Nixon wore off, he began echoing King's positions. He was hardly
an internationalist, but he was too smart, too adverse to injustice not
to have seen that race and class eventually converge. Robeson, whom Mike
and Tiger probably haven't heard of, clearly never wavered. He bore his
powerful geniality to the very end, when the vilification became terminal.
Halting the militancy of the Cold War's Pax Americana and effecting domestic
inroads was accomplished by black leaders who were spurned by the black
establishment. The inheritors of that activist mantle now grope awkwardly
in the more problematic environment of offshore globalism. The handholds
are more elusive, the atomization and personal self-absorption are rampant.
As the tireless Jesse Jackson endlessly intones the larger vision, his prominent
brothers and sisters reap unparalleled personal rewards. Michael soars higher;
Tiger, Tiger burns brighter; no one mourns for Alonzo.
Were Paul Robeson around today he'd be playing football again, and he'd
be a superstar. He'd take the money, but it wouldn't end there, because
personal success wasn't enough for him. Were Jordan and his fellow athletes
possessed of even a smattering of the awareness of the Jackie Robinson they
laud that would be cue enough, but their interests off the field and out
of the arena evidently lie elsewhere. One wonders what Tiger Woods, who
defines himself as Asian American, thinks of the 14-hour days his Thai brethren
labor to assemble the clothing he wears. Has Nike's new pledge to monitor
factories for abuses--though refusing to pay a living wage--sufficiently
mollified him?
That leaves another group who lay claim to speak for the travail of fellow
blacks. Former athletes like Harry Edwards and Jim Brown have been conspicuous
by their absence in acting on the economic chasm between the black underclass
and privileged black athletes. A few visits to the latter's locker rooms
by Edwards and Brown for introductory lectures on how role models for a
people mired in neo-enslavement continue that oppression by casually lending
their names to the exploitation of foreign workers seems rather appropriate.
Robeson would be amazed and angry that it hasn't already been done. And
I suspect that, by now, Robinson would too. I recall my glee at Ebbetts
Field as I witnessed his basepath fire and determination, and I smile to
think of him sticking his finger in Michael Jordan's face and rasping, Think
globally, act locally!