The Smith-Carlos Black Power salute: Once vilified, now praised
Tommie Smith, John Carlos were ridiculed after raising fists during 1968 Olympics. Fifty years on, they inspire others.

Fifty years ago, two African American track-and-field stars, having just
been awarded their medals at the 1968 Olympic Summer Games and very
aware that the eyes of the world were fastened to them, bowed their
heads and raised black-gloved clenched fists under a Mexico City sky.
Those athletes - Tommie Smith and John Carlos - are beloved icons today.
There have been statues erected of them, books written about them. The
importance of what they did, and their bravery, is acknowledged in
countless profiles, interviews and retrospectives each year. But today's
mainstream acceptance of their protest in 1968 is the inversion of the
reality Smith and Carlos faced after taking their stand.
They had stripped the shoes off their feet, to shine a light on poverty.
Carlos wore beads to honour the victims of lynching. Smith wore a black
scarf to symbolise black pride. The silver-medal winner, Australian
Peter Norman, supported the protest, donning a badge of a group Smith
and Carlos were associated with, the Olympic Project for Human Rights.
But these were all details for later. The crux of it all was what they
did up on the podium.
As the Star-Spangled Banner played that night in 1968, they bowed their
heads and raised their gloved fists, Smith's right and Carlos's left, in
what is usually described as an unambiguous Black Power salute. It was a
simple, nonviolent protest against racism, against exploitation, but it
ignited an instantaneous firestorm of denunciation, beginning
immediately with a largely unsympathetic crowd and the International
Olympic Committee (IOC).
The IOC was led at the time by Avery Brundage, infamous for his efforts
to defeat and undermine any potential boycotts of the 1936 Olympics
hosted by Nazi Germany, and who vehemently supported apartheid-era South
Africa's inclusion in the Olympic Games. Smith and Carlos were
suspended from the US Olympic team and were instructed to leave the
Olympic Village.
This nonviolent gesture of solidarity was to ravage their reputations
for years to come. Condemnation was almost universal. Between them,
Smith and Carlos received hundreds of death threats. They were called
traitors. They were called "treasonable black rats". It was commonly
held that they had disgraced the Olympics and disgraced the American
flag. Chicago columnist Brent Musburger went even further than most of
their detractors and anointed Smith and Carlos, who had explicitly taken
an anti-racist stance, "black-skinned stormtroopers".
Dave Zirin, sports editor of The Nation and co-author (with Carlos) of
The John Carlos Story: The Sports Moment That Changed the World, is
unequivocal in his insistence that Smith and Carlos had almost
non-existent institutional support.
Though a "young generation of activists was electrified" by the protest,
this did not translate to the halls of power. "They were on an island,"
Zirin told Al Jazeera.
Support and admiration came decades later
Zirin believes it took until the 2000s - more than 30 years after that
night in Mexico City - for their reputations to be satisfactorily
rehabilitated.
This began in 2005, with Smith and Carlos's alma mater San Jose State
erecting statues to two as part of an entirely student-led endeavour and
initially, without the support of the administration, Zirin said. Then
in 2008, ESPN presented them with the Arthur Ashe Courage Award,
complete with a video narrated by Tom Cruise.
The extent to which Smith and Carlos risked everything might not fully translate to a modern audience, however.
Colin Kaepernick, who has inspired and bedevilled large swaths of the US
in fairly equal measure, has been given an award from Amnesty
International. Nike has built a massive advertising campaign around the
former NFL player, who in 2016 began kneeling during the national anthem
at the start of each game to condemn police brutality against African
Americans.
Although Kaepernick's actions have drawn harsh words from President
Donald Trump and other conservatives, Kaepernick's actions have also
inspired millions. Even some politicians have offered qualified support
to the movement he helped inspire.
This sort of support system simply did not exist for Smith and Carlos,
Zirin said, adding that social media have a role in this.
"Social media has played a part in amplifying the support, and people
who are in politics feel they have to connect with that," Zirin said.
He added, however, that the "Democratic Party was in a weird place in
1968" as pro-war Democrat Hubert Humphrey had emerged as the winner of
his party's presidential nomination against the backdrop of the
Democratic National Convention riots in Chicago. He was to face Richard
Nixon, a master of dog-whistle politics. There was no room in either
party to endorse, let alone champion, the protests and sacrifices of
Smith and Carlos. "They were very alone," Zirin said.
'Easier to praise people in hindsight'
Fifty years later, however, Carlos and Smith's defining moment has
largely been embraced by the mainstream in the US, not only as just, but
also as heroic.
The contrast between the once-decried-but-now-exalted actions of mostly
black athletes of the past and the mostly black athletes of today is
stark. Muhammad Ali's refusal to be drafted is the gold standard of this
turnaround. Even less celebrated cases of political expression, like
those of Craig Hodges or Mahmoud Abdul-Rauf, no longer inspire vitriol.
More often, they evoke indifference from their one-time detractors, if
they evoke anything at all.
The irony of reintegrating outspoken athletes of yesteryear like Smith
and Carlos and Muhammad Ali into the fold of "respectability" while
still cursing the name or burning the jersey of Kaepernick is not lost
on observers of both eras.
"It's always easier to praise people in hindsight," Zirin said. "We saw
that when Muhammad Ali died. And just a couple months later, Kaepernick
did his protest. And the same writers who praised Ali denounced
Kaepernick. They're just following the fashion."
'We weren't wrong. We were ahead of our time'
For their part, Smith and Carlos fully embrace this new wave of athlete activism.
One lesson that can be gleaned from the pair to modern socially
conscious athletes is that progress may seem slow, and public opinion
slower, but the world tends to catch up. This may seem a frustrating
blueprint for success, one predicated on just waiting out regressive
ideas and hoping for the best.
But if Smith and Carlos proved anything, it's that the protests of today
aren't just for today. They belong to the next generation, and the
next. Their defiance and their abdication of privileges of young
world-class athletes affect future protests on every field, in every
stadium and in every arena.
Kaepernick, Megan Rapinoe, LeBron James and the WNBA, which is
considered by many as one of the most progressive and socially conscious
professional sports leagues in the US, are among the natural heirs to
the raised fist in a black glove, to the black scarf, to the beads
honouring the victims of lynching.
And in an era in which the president of the United States has all but
declared war on athletes who protest, many would argue the need for the
athletes willing to use their platforms to advance social change is more
imperative than ever.
Even as the new generation steps up to their own podiums, there is no
regret about the decision Smith and Carlos jointly made 50 years ago on
Tuesday. As Smith said in 2016: "We were not wrong. We were only ahead
of our time."
https://www.geezgo.com/sps/43131
Join Geezgo for free. Use Geezgo's end-to-end encrypted Chat with your Closenets (friends, relatives, colleague etc) in personalized ways.>>
No comments