America has a serious problem, as evidenced by multiple school shootings and a political assassination all within the span of two weeks. What’s less obvious is that the lessons of history give us the solutions, if only we bothered to see them.
First, we must not sugarcoat our present-day social problems. Our youth are in a moral and spiritual free-fall where overdoses and suicides are common, school shooters are imitated or idolized, 13 year-old girls are hijacking cars and teens threatening to shoot workers over disputes over fast food orders.
Yet we must also view these problems with historical context. If we continue to say that things are inevitably getting worse, if fearful people are told, repeatedly, that we are on the verge of civil war, then we risk a self-fulfilling prophecy.
Irrational fear can spur people to take desperate action to defend their ideals. And that is a very dangerous place to be in as a society.
During my time in the Civil Rights Movement, I witnessed heroism amid vicious discrimination that has so much to teach us today.
During the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1956, Martin Luther King, Jr. was informed that his home had been bombed; his wife and 10 week-old daughter were inside. He rushed home to find his family safe, but was met by a crowd of neighbors, full of righteous indignation and ready for retaliation against the perpetrators.
King was faced with an extraordinary test in the early days of his activism. He exhorted the crowd to put away their weapons and remain calm, citing the commands of Scripture to “love our enemies.”
He later wrote in his memoir of the boycott, “Stride Toward Freedom,” that “living through the actual experience of the protest, nonviolence became more than a method to which I gave intellectual assent; it became a commitment to a way of life.”
“Many of the things that I had not cleared up intellectually concerning nonviolence were now solved in the sphere of practical action,” he said.
King’s singular act of heroism helped spur a movement that changed the course of American history. He faced a tidal wave of state-sanctioned violence and segregation, constant assassination threats, FBI surveillance and criticisms that he was a radical — or not radical enough.
That he constantly responded to hatred with love teaches us all we need to know in navigating our own dark times.
A lesser-known compatriot of King’s supported this example of heroism. Rev. Charles Billups was a Civil Rights activist and Korean War veteran in Birmingham who, in 1962, was kidnapped and savagely beaten by Klansmen who branded him with the letters “KKK.”
One of his assailants later approached him, confessed to his participation in the crime and offered to turn himself in. Billups forgave him, prayed with him and declined to press charges. Together, they made joint appearances speaking out against segregation.
What we in the Civil Rights Movement fought against was not people, but evil ideas. We did not organize against political figures; we organized against segregation. We always sought first to negotiate, and only after we had exhausted the avenue of dialogue did we then peacefully organize and protest.
What we did not do was ratchet up the rhetoric. We did not resort to threats, intimidation or violence, because we knew, as an old African proverb says, “When the bull elephants fight, the grass always loses.”
If we allow awful events to further exacerbate our contempt for each other, the most vulnerable among us are usually the ones to experience collateral damage. Look no further than the urban working class neighborhoods that were devastated in the riots of 1968 and suffered from neglect for decades afterward.
Violence has sadly been a key part of American history, but so too have values of resilience and grace. We must tell the story of the dark hours of our history, but we also have a duty right now to promote peace rather than amplify distrust and discord.
We as a country have been through incredibly dark hours and have survived. The late 1960s and 1970s, was notorious for riots, political assassinations, bombings and other forms of domestic terrorism. Just one day in Manhattan in 1970 saw three office buildings bombed, at least 15 other buildings evacuated and 300 reported bomb threats.
What we need to do once again is put American values to work. The lessons of King and Billups give us a blueprint for American renewal through the values of resilience, peace, and reconciliation.
Bob Woodson is the founder and president of the Woodson Center, and editor of the book “A Pathway to American Renewal: Red, White and Black Vol. II.”
