Monday, June 29, 2020

The 1919 Chicago Race Riot that western media don't mention...

This is the grisly story of how the Chicago Race Riot of 1919 spilled blood of hundreds of black Americans during the presidency of Widrow Wilson, a supporter of the Ku Klux Klan, who was against black suffrage and re-segregated elements of American society. This sordid tale is told neither by the media nor the western govts. No wonder Wilson's statue is now in the process of removal from Princeton University's premises!

Lynching, stoning and burning: The 1919 ‘Red Summer’ race riots that America and Britain want you to forget but which echo today
Andrew Dickens
RT : 28 Jun, 2020

In 1919, hundreds of people were murdered in race riots across the US and UK. Men, women and children were butchered. So why is it a footnote in history? Because the media and governments don’t want you to know how they reacted.
charred corpse of Will Brown after being killed 1919
Remember when we thought that 2020 was going to be the Year of Coronavirus? Then along came the murder of George Floyd and the subsequent protests, violent unrest and clashes between police, the far right and anti-fascists. Covid-19 is going to have to share top billing.

Remember, too, how everyone compared the virus to the Spanish flu pandemic of 1918–19? And yet few people compared the protests and violence to another event from that time: “Red Summer”. That’s because these bloody and shameful few months in 1919 aren’t the kind of history that countries want to teach their kids.

Red Summer saw hundreds of people killed in a series of race riots across the US. Most deaths were white-on-black – including people being lynched, stoned to death and burned at the stake – but it was also the first time the black population had resisted the violence, both peacefully and with force. And, while the words and images of such medieval savagery chill the blood, and the levels of cruelty astound a 21st-century sensibility, there are parallels with 2020. So, what fuelled it and why has it been brushed under the carpet of history?
White mobs chasing black man in Chicago 1919

The US at the time was a deeply racially divided country led by President Woodrow Wilson – a supporter of the Ku Klux Klan who was against black suffrage and actually resegregated elements of American society. White-led race riots and lynchings were commonplace – from 1889 to 1918, more than 3,000 were lynched, 2,472 of whom were black men and 50 black women. Black people, despite emancipation 57 years earlier, had far fewer rights than white people. But what lit the touchpaper for the bloodshed of 1919, and what made it so significant, was the return of soldiers from World War One.

Armed, angry and ready to fight
whites rejoice after arson attack
whites rejoice after arson attack
These soldiers, both white and black, were demobilised at a time of already-rising racial tension and economic difficulty. They were trained to fight and, in many cases, were suffering from “shell shock” (nowadays known as PTSD). Violence flared easily.

White servicemen jumped on fabricated rumours of white women being assaulted by “Negro fiends” – rumours sensationalised by the press – and went on random sprees of assault and murder. The Washington Post, that famously “liberal” rag, even ran a front-page story organising white servicemen to gather at a certain location so they could attack black people in the city en masse.

The white servicemen had also come home to cities with few available jobs and homes, an economy ravaged by war and a pandemic, and an influx of black workers from the South, due to war-related labour shortages.

By 1919, in the first wave of the Great Migration, an estimated 500,000 African Americans had moved to the industrial cities of the Northeast and Midwest. Between 1910 and 1920, the black population in Chicago grew by 148 per cent and in Philadelphia by 500 per cent. Alongside the economic effects, white people blamed these black migrants for spreading Spanish flu – a foreshadowing, perhaps, of those just waiting to blame a spike in Covid-19 infections on Black Lives Matter rallies.

Some black migrants prospered, creating a new black middle class. This both enraged and frightened people used to a “white privilege” that was off the charts compared to today.

Black soldiers returned to a different set of ire-inducing issues. They came home from risking their lives for their country to discover that their country and its president didn’t see them as complete human beings. At least 13 black veterans were lynched after the war. They weren’t war heroes; they were second-class citizens. But they were also motivated and emboldened.

A bloody rampage

“Red Summer” - a phrase coined by the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People’s (NAACP) field secretary, James Weldon Johnson, referring to the bloodshed - was a series of events. The most serious of these began in April and ended in November. In that time, across dozens of American cities, white mobs, including women and children rampaged, destroying black properties and churches, and murdering black people.

The Ku Klux Klan had a resurgence after decades of slumber, committing 64 lynchings in 1918 and 83 in 1919. In one of the deadliest events, more than 200 black Americans of all sexes and ages were massacred in Elaine, Arkansas, after black sharecroppers campaigned for better working conditions.

Many of the attacks were focused on those black veterans, who numbered around 380,000 and were seen as a threat to white supremacy and power. They had fought for their country, so why shouldn’t they be treated the same as everyone else? They had returned battle-hardened and ready to stand up for equal rights and for themselves.

This meant that, in some cities, for the first time, black people fought back against the brutality, notably in Chicago and Washington, DC, where riots saw both black and white people killed (albeit still mostly black). In Chicago, 23 black people and 15 white people died after a black teenager, Eugene Williams, drifted on his raft into a whites-only section of Lake Michigan. He drowned when a white man, George Stauber, threw rocks at him, knocking him unconscious.

Despite several witnesses, a white police officer refused to arrest Stauber. Black people protested and, reacting to that, white mobs swarmed through the city, shooting at and torching buildings as they went. Still, the police did nothing, so black veterans organised to defend their neighbourhoods. The riots lasted a week and, alongside the 38 deaths, 537 people were injured and an estimated 1,000 to 2,000 lost their homes.

Similar riots took place in British cities, too – mainly in ports such as London, Glasgow, Liverpool, Cardiff and Hull. Five people were killed – all non-white – as soldiers returned from an even longer war than the Americans endured, to find similar hardship and similarly easy-to-blame minorities, including South Asian, African, Afro-Caribbean, Chinese and Arab sailors.

Ignored & forgotten because of shame?
Police checks corpse of a murdered Black man
And yet few people know about any of this. There is relatively little reference to it in the mainstream or any other media. Nor in any school curriculum. This is probably because the greatest shame was how the press and authorities reacted.

In the UK, the British government, still with a huge multi-ethnic empire, intensified its repatriation scheme. It removed colonial citizens to avoid a “black backlash,” offering a resettlement allowance. Between 1919 and 1921, an estimated 3,000 black and Arab seamen and their families were deported under the scheme.

In the US, black resistance was politicised. It was leapt on by the federal government and the press as being Marxist and pro-Soviet. This being just two years after the Russian Revolution, black-rights movements were labelled “Bolshevik.” Sound familiar?

Just about every mainstream newspaper, including other supposedly “liberal” titles, such as the New York Times and Wall Street Journal, spun the line of black “Bolsheviks.” The Times ran the headline “Reds Try to Stir Negroes to Revolt.”

This was in part due to federal briefings to the press. The state was determined to ignore racial inequality and heap the blame on socialists. The attorney general, A. Mitchell Palmer, reported to Congress on the anarchist and Bolshevik threat, and accused black community leaders of an “ill-governed reaction toward race rioting.”

The riots also coincided with the beginning of J. Edgar Hoover’s notorious career. He blamed the Washington riots on “numerous assaults committed by Negroes upon white women,” despite an absence of evidence, and the Elaine massacre on “agitation in a Negro lodge.” He also initiated an investigation of “Negro activities.”

While there were most certainly leftist elements at play, the resistance was without question a defensive reaction to years of unpunished violence by white individuals and mobs. There was no grey area in all this, no “very fine people” on both sides. Yet only one major report, by Dr George Haynes, a black civil servant and academic, in October 1919, recognised this, noting lynching as a national problem and connecting it to the riots.

He wrote: “Persistence of unpunished lynchings of Negroes fosters lawlessness among white men imbued with the mob spirit and creates a spirit of bitterness among Negroes. In such a state of public mind, a trivial incident can precipitate a riot… Unchecked mob violence creates hatred and intolerance, making impossible free and dispassionate discussion, not only of race problems, but questions on which races and sections differ.”

‘American apartheid’
Some Black American soldiers who returned from WW-I

President Wilson had condemned the violence but refused to take any significant action to stop it. Not only that, but after months in which black people were butchered in the most horrific and sadistic manners imaginable – strung up, stoned and burned alive – the authorities did nothing to improve their lot. No legal protections, no additional rights. Indeed, as Geoff Ward, a professor of African and African American studies at Washington University in St Louis, recently told NBC, it made things worse.

“That reign of racial terror, where again the exculpatory work of the white press, police, grand juries and others ensured that perpetrators were protected rather than punished, undoubtedly prolonged the period of American apartheid,” he said.

The violence continued. More riots occurred, some even bloodier than those of 1919. Nothing changed for black people, but something did change in black people – something that carried through to the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s, and into today. They were now prepared to fight back.


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Andrew Dickens is an award-winning writer on culture, society, politics, health and travel for major titles such as the Guardian, the Telegraph, the Independent, the Daily Mail and Empire.

Monday, June 22, 2020

The Global Reset – Unplugged. “The Deep State”

The writer exposed, in this article, all the organisations that make up the Deep State and how they are controlling various facets of the vast majority of people around the world.

Thursday, June 11, 2020

Marmaduke Pickthall : The Musilm convert novelist

An early British Muslim convert Marmaduke Pickthall was not only a novelist, he also translated the Holy Quran in English.

Marmaduke Pickthall: A Forgotten English Novelist
By Md. Mahmudul Hasan
April 24, 2020

When I joined International Islamic University Malaysia (IIUM) in 2010, one of the courses I was assigned to teach was what is now renamed “Islamic Literature in English.” Although I had studied Islam and read the Qur’an in its original language, I had never taught an organized course of study on Islamic literature before. Therefore, I needed to prepare thoroughly before mustering enough confidence to run the course.

In order to get a better grip on the subject, I started collecting and reading books and other materials on the subject. IIUM Library was of immense help in tracking down and acquiring resources.

One of the books I borrowed from the library was James Kritzeck’s Anthology of Islamic Literature (in two volumes [1964]). Among the authors featured in this book is Marmaduke Pickthall (1875-1936). I turned to Kritzeck’s chapter on the British writer and came across these lines:

Today Marmaduke Pickthall is perhaps best known as a translator of the Koran, a British convert to Islam who produced the nearest thing to an “authorized” English version of its sacred book. But he once enjoyed widespread and deserved acclaim as a novelist, and was ranked among the best of his contemporaries in this art.

As Kritzeck has pointed out, like many others, I knew Pickthall only as a British Muslim convert and an English translator of the Qur’an, not as a novelist or a travel writer. Hence, Kritzeck’s information about Pickthall’s literary career came as a total revelation to me. It led me to read many other works on the British novelist, and I contemplated writing an essay on him.

What eventually brought me to produce this essay is Anastasia Valassopoulos’s interview with Claire Chambers which was published in the Journal of Postcolonial Writing in 2018. In Valassopoulos’s “Britain Through Muslim Eyes: An interview with Claire Chambers,” Chambers makes the following observation about the reception of Pickthall’s works:

"People tend to remember him for his translation, The Meaning of the Glorious Qur’an (Pickthall [1930] 2004). Most don’t realize that he wrote about 30 novels. He was as well known in the early 20th century as H.G. Wells and E.M. Forster, and those authors thought he was great.

On a personal note, I majored in English literature at the University of Dhaka, completed a PhD in English and comparative literature at the University of Portsmouth and taught the subject for many years. However, before my encounter with Kritzeck’s book, I had never learned that Pickthall was a literary artist of the first order."

Pickthall was one of the writers E.M. Forster read “during the gestation of his” A Passage to India (1924) to gain a greater understanding of issues related to the representation of the Other. Sources Forster used in writing his Alexandria: A History and Guide (1922) included Pickthall’s Said the Fisherman (1903) and The Children of the Nile (1908). One of Forster’s remarks about Pickthall reads: “He does not sentimentalize about the East, he is a part of it, and only incidentally does his passionate love shine out.”

Pickthall lived in British India from 1920 to 1935. After the publication of A Passage to India, Forster sent a copy to Pickthall for it to be reviewed in the latter’s Bombay Chronicle. In a letter of 18 July 1924, Pickthall wrote to Forster :

"How very kind of you to send me your Passage to India. I have read it with a strong desire to understand what it is that so depresses all my fellow countrymen here, except of course the purely animal among them. I cannot say that I have fathomed it exactly, but your book has given me ideas which I shall try to express when I review it in the Bombay Chronicle."

Pickthall was born into a middle-class English family. He attended Harrow School, the alma mater of a number of Prime Ministers (including Winston Churchill and Jawaharlal Nehru), literary luminaries and many other notable figures. At an early age, he traveled most of the countries and important cities in the Levant, which he later described in his travelogues.

Through his association with the influential literary and political magazine The New Age from 1912 to 1920, Pickthall played a leading role in the literary world of early twentieth-century London. In the weekly (that focused on “Politics, Arts, and Letters”), his name was featured prominently alongside other regular contributors, including George Bernard Shaw (1856-1950), H.G. Wells (1866-1946), Arnold Bennett (1867-1931), T.E. Hulme (1883-1917), Ezra Pound (1885-1972), Edwin Muir (1887-1959) and Katherine Mansfield (1888-1923).

Pickthall published his first novel All Fools in 1900 and continued to produce many more until he left for India in 1920. He even published more than one novel in certain years. During Pickthall’s years in India, among other activities, he edited the Bombay Chronicle and Islamic Culture: The Hyderabad Quarterly Review, delivered Madras Lectures on Islam that comprised eight lectures – now contained in The Cultural Side of Islam – and completed his translation of the Qur’an.

Given his impressive literary achievements, I wondered what could be the reason behind Pickthall’s near deletion from the history of English literature.

Recently, I came across Saudi scholar of English literature Ebtisam A. Sadiq’s book titled Marmaduke Pickthall Reinstated: What Canon? (2016). In his review of the book, Peter Clark (author of Marmaduke Pickthall: British Muslim [1986]) said that Pickthall’s “reputation was for many years in eclipse … [and his] embracing Islam and being a dissident in the First World Wars had not helped that reputation.”

Clark appears to identify two reasons that prevented Pickthall from being part of the literary canon. One is his embracement of Islam in 1917 and the other is his conscientious objection to military service during WWI. He refused to serve the British against the Turks in the war, for which his politician friend Aubrey Herbert (1880-1923) regarded him as “England’s most loyal enemy.” However, Pickthall himself maintained that he was “pro-Turk, but not anti-British.”
Pickthall’s criticisms of British policy vis-à-vis Turkey through a series of articles in The New Age and his refusal to fight Muslims during WWI can be considered a lesser defiance of national authority if compared to the American writer Ezra Pound’s support for and collaboration with Italy during WWII. From Italy, Pound launched letter writing and radio broadcast campaigns against the USA. His opposition to US President Franklin Roosevelt and his support for Italy’s fascist dictator Mussolini was so effusive that he “had found in Mussolini an Augustus for whom he could be a Virgil.”

Pound was indicted on charges of treason, especially for his pro-Axis and anti-American wartime speeches on Radio Rome. As he was found mentally incompetent to stand trial, on 14 December 1945 he was confined in a mental hospital in Washington, DC. He was released on 18 April 1958 “on the condition that he leave the United States.”

Ezra Pound’s political dissidence did not deny him recognition as a literary figure. In fact, the more than a decade-long period of incarceration earned him the “greatest fame and influence,” especially in the western literary and artistic tradition.

It may be suggested that Marmaduke Pickthall’s political stance during WWI would not have ruined his literary reputation had the added factor of conversion to Islam not been present. Various anthologies have included selections from Pound’s poetry. We do not know when and if at all Pickthall would be immune to the politics of canon formation and be included in literary anthologies as a novelist and a travel writer.

Pickthall’s absence from the canon and curriculum has deprived students and academics alike. The long overdue inclusion of his works in both will enrich English literature studies, delight the lovers of travel literature and “remedy a long period of neglect”.
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Md. Mahmudul Hasan competed an English Literature PhD at Portsmouth in 2007. He is currently with the Department of English Language and Literature at International Islamic University Malaysia.

Murad Hofmann: Some thoughts & recollections

I was saddened to hear of the death of Murad Hoffmann (1932-2020), a career German diplomat and ambassador to some Muslim countries in the 80s and 90s.

He was a very sharp and educated man; he studied at Harvard in the late 50s, and wrote several profound books on Islam and the Muslim experience in Europe. His last book was entitled, 'The Future of Islam in the East and in the West'.

I had the honor of meeting him when he attended an international conference in Madinah, around 2003 I believe. I was pleasantly surprised that he had read my Du'a book, and thanked me for some specific points in it. During our conversation, I asked him how he dealt with his conversion to Islam as an ambassador and whether it affected his career. He laughed out loud and told me that he had sent a fax back to his supervisors in Germany, in 1980, stating that he would like to inform them he had converted to Islam.

He said, "I told them that this was my personal choice and that I felt you should be aware of this decision; they replied back that as far as they were concerned my religion was none of their business and that as long as it wouldn't affect my work, it should not affect my career in the slightest!" And he went on to be Germany's ambassador to Morocco and Algeria, as a practicing Muslim!

Truly a rare breed of our times, and a person who left an amazing legacy and story. I hope someone writes a detailed biography of his life and times.

Allah yar'amuh.
Yasir Qadhi


Death of Murad Hofmann: Some thoughts and recollections
By Md. Mahmudul Hasan
New Strait Times, January 30, 2020

ON Tuesday Jan 14, 2020, in the morning, I was in my office doing work after having glanced through the news in various online media outlets. I received a message from my wife saying that Murad Wilfried Hofmann (born 1931) died the previous day and that she learnt the information from Facebook.

Soon afterwards, she shared with me a Facebook status of Yale graduate and American scholar Yasir Qadhi. He posted:

I was saddened to hear of the death of Murad Hoffman … [who] wrote several profound books on Islam and the Muslim experience in Europe…. I had the honor of meeting him…. I asked him how he dealt with his conversion to Islam as an ambassador…. He said, “I told them that this was my personal choice and that I felt you should be aware of this decision; they replied back that as far as they were concerned my religion was none of their business and that as long as it wouldn’t affect my work, it should not affect my career in the slightest!”

After receiving the shocking news of Hofmann’s death from my wife, I sifted through the Internet for more details and for other related information about his demise. My efforts were met with little success, as after several attempts I found only two reports on his death.

AboutIslam.net ran a news story titled “Muslims Mourn German Muslim Pioneer Murad Hofmann” and Anadolu Agency published the news of his death under the heading of “Prominent German diplomat Murad Hofmann passes away”.

I saw no obituary at all for the German ambassador and scholar. The silence of the so-called mainstream news organisations on the death of this writer perplexed me and made me wonder about the politics of media representation and media’s neglect of certain groups of people.

What would the media coverage be like had a comparable western or secular writer of non-Muslim background died?

What are the reasons why Hofmann’s death did not receive adequate and commensurate media attention?

Islamophobia and hatred of Muslims? Muslims’ inability to promote and create an interest in writers and scholars like Hofmann? A combination of these and similar reasons? – Such questions have vexed me and a sense of bewilderment has crept in. This and my personal recollections of the man partly prompted me to write this essay.

Whatever the reason behind the neglect of such writers, oblivion about their work is a collective loss because writers are part of our common human heritage.

They are our friends in the deepest sense and “our most incisive critics and self-critics”. They are our
visionaries and companions in our common effort to discern the meaning of life; they are our guides to gaining an awareness of real life and real time, as they represent themselves as well as us the readers in the act of writing.

Writers live by their words. Media’s bias against writers of a certain religious community may not keep them neglected or forgotten forever.

There is a deep psychic connection between writers and readers. The former write for the latter, and the latter are always in search of the former. Once the readers come across the writings they appreciate, they immediately form a spiritual bond with their authors.

No geographical, cultural, religious or ideological barrier can prevent this rapport.

However, the inability of those whose job it was to promote Hofmann and make his works known to a wider audience is most puzzling. The absence of adequate number of competent researchers and research organisations among Muslims is evidently appalling.

Many research establishments run by so-called Islamic people are not focused or fit for purpose. Muslims are demonstrably underrepresented in the realm of knowledge and information.

As the great Bangladeshi scholar Syed Sajjad Husain said in A Young Muslim’s Guide to Religions in the World (1992): “Many of the real Islamic values, especially the emphasis on knowledge as the key to salvation, find greater adherents outside Islam today than within it” (pp.3-4).

Creating stellar writers for the future is a challenge, knowing them is a blessing and preserving them is a responsibility. Muslims around the world seem to have collectively failed in their responsibilities of preserving their writers and articulating their intellectual heritage.

One reason why many writers of Muslim heritage are not considered universal enough to warrant wider academic attention or mainstream cultural reference is the unnecessary characterization of them as "Islamic".

Many Muslims have the tendency to use the prefix "Islamic" for writers of Islamic background. This tendency of identity-centeredness often contributes to making such writers parochial and keeps them from being mainstream.

This is largely not the case with writers of other religious backgrounds. For example, most prominent western writers are of Christian or Jewish background but are not known by their religion. We do not hear terms like "Christian writer", "Christian poet", "Christian philosopher", "Christian scholar", etc.

Unfortunately, the over-enthusiasm to describe writers from Muslim background as "Islamic" for no good reasons has not fared very well in terms of making them universal and allowing people of other religions or no religions to benefit from them.

Perhaps, this "over-Islamisation" of writers like Hofmann drifted readers of non-Muslim backgrounds away from them, as they do not feel the need of studying a writer who is ghettoised into one religious community.

As a result, only a section of readers study such writers; and unless there are research or other involuntary reasons, ordinary non-Muslim readers generally distance themselves from writers who are overly identified as "Islamic".

Consequently, despite the explosion of knowledge and information in the 21st century, the message of Islam and its teachings are still mostly wrapped and sealed in a cloud of obscurity and mystery.

When I met Hofmann in the UK in 2000 I had lived in the country only for a few weeks. I was attending his week-long lecture series at Markfield Conference Centre in Leicestershire. We stayed in the same building and used to chat over breakfast when he was not occupied with other people or with tasks that were more important.

Conspicuous by his tall and majestic figure, he was the first German I had ever met in person. His scholarly composure, intellectual precision and articulate conversational skills impressed me a lot, and I considered myself truly fortunate to have met and listened to him.

I admired his ability to handle question-and-answer sessions smartly – in a calm and confident manner – avoiding confrontation when addressing critical comments from the audience. I became more acquainted with the depth of his insight and the clarity of his thoughts when I started reading him. His Islam 2000 (1996), Journey to Makkah (1998) and Journey to Islam: Diary of a German Diplomat (1951 - 2000) (2001) left a lasting impression on me.

Born a Catholic in Germany’s Aschaffenburg, Hofmann began his university education at Union College in New York in 1951. Then he studied law at Munich and Harvard Universities with a PhD in jurisprudence from the former in 1957 and a Master of Law from Harvard Law School in 1960.

A prolific author of about a dozen books and an eloquent speaker, Hofmann embraced Islam in 1980, performed hajj in 1992 and describes his hajj experiences and his thoughts and reflections on various aspects of Islam in Journey to Makkah.

Although his acceptance of Islam sent a shock wave through some sections in Germany and spurred political debate, he was not discriminated against in career development opportunities for his religious belief or for his views on religious matters. In 1984, on behalf of the federal government, Karl Carstens (1914-1992) – Germany’s fifth President (1979-84) – awarded him the Order of Merit of the Federal Republic of Germany for his contributions to the public welfare. It is Germany’s most important public recognition its first President Theodor Heuss (1884-1963) created in 1951.

The government distributed his German book Tagebuch eines deutschen Muslims (Diary of a German Muslim [1985]) to all its foreign missions in Muslim countries as a manual how to operate in Muslim-majority societies.

He began his over three-decade long diplomatic career in 1961 and ended it in 1994. His conversion to Islam did not deter him from climbing higher in the career ladder.

From 1983 to 1987, he served the North Atlantic Treaty Organisation (NATO) as its Director of Information in Brussels. In 1987, the German government appointed him its ambassador to Algeria and he remained in that position until 1990. He ended his career as Germany’s ambassador to Morocco from 1990 to 1994.

In his memoirs and diaries, he makes it clear that in his own life he never experienced any dichotomy of being a Muslim and a European. He successfully balanced being a Muslim and a western diplomat, and demonstrated that the two are not necessarily at odds with each other and that Islam does not encumber one’s career progression.

Although Hofmann had a smooth career that can be envied by many, his book Der Islam als Alternative (1992) which was later translated into English as Islam: The Alternative (1997) caused a great uproar in Europe, especially in the German media establishment. Here he presents Islam as the only available alternative for western societies.

Many found it difficult to accept his argument that, after Europe had tried many isms and philosophies, Islam is the only alternative that will remedy her woes and societal challenges in particular and global crises in general.

Published by the well-known German press Eugen Diederichs Verlag soon after the First Gulf War (1990-91), the book received negative reviews mainly from the dominant critics of Islam in Germany.

They even attempted to stall its publication on a flimsy excuse that it promotes “fundamentalism, corporal punishment, stoning and cutting off of hands”. They also “demanded his recall from Morocco where he was the German Ambassador” at that time.

However, once the book came out in print and its intellectual merit and rigour became evident, the hostility to it and to its author subsided.

In the book, Hofmann makes an emphatic point that the Hesperian (western) societies are on the brink of failure, morally and socially, as people’s spiritual needs are not catered to and their attempts to give meaning to life are somewhat ineffectual.

According to Hofmann, the moral and spiritual predicament of the west increases the possibility of Islam’s wider acceptance among the people there, as the religion has the potential to provide a spiritual basis for a universal framework for human development and civilisation. He also envisions a greater responsibility Muslims have to shoulder in this regard by way of living Islam in its truest sense and exemplifying the Islamic faith and its ethical principles in their own lives.

Hofmann’s contribution to scholarship in the field of Islam is reminiscent of that of Leopold Weiss (Muhammad Asad [1900-92]) whom he regards as “Europe’s Gift to Islam” and to whom he paid a generous tribute.
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Md. Mahmudul Hasan, PhD, is with the Department of English Language and Literature at the International Islamic University Malaysia.

The youngest person sentenced to death!

George Stinney Jr of African descent was the youngest person to be sentenced to death in the 20th century in the United States.

He was only 14 years old when he was executed in an electric chair.

During his trial, even on the day of his execution, he always carried a bible in his hands, claiming to be innocent.

He was accused of killing two white girls, 11-Year-old Betty, and Mary of 7, the bodies were found near the house where the teenager resided with his parents.

At that time, all members of the jury were white. The trial lasted only 2 hours, and the sentence was dictated 10 minutes later.

The Boy's parents were threatened, and prevented from being present in the courtroom, and subsequently expelled from that city.
Before the execution, George spent 81 days in prison without being able to see his parents.

He was held in solitary, 80 miles from his city. He was heard alone without the presence of his parents or a lawyer.

He was electrocuted with 5,380 volts in his head, imagine all that voltage in a teenager's head.

70 years later, his innocence was finally proven by a judge in South Carolina. The boy was innocent, someone set it up to blame him for being black.

May his innocent soul rest in peace.

The unique history of mideastern guitar called 'ud

Master ‘ud-maker and virtuoso Najib Shaheen says the instrument has been so long and deeply embraced as to be culturally emblematic, and in Arabic it is often called amir al-tarab, “the prince of enchantment,” in a musical sense.

Prince of Enchantment: The 'Ud
Aramco, May/June 2020 issue
Written by Kay Hardy Campbell
“‘Uds differ from each other in their size, their smallness, their length, width and depth, in their forms, in quality, in crudity and by the elegance of correspondence of their different parts to one another.” — Abu Yusuf al-Kindi, circa 870CE

Sitting in his Pennsylvania workshop, surrounded by hanging tools and worktables, Najib Shaheen cradles a hand-crafted, wooden ‘ud (oud) in his arms. As he strums and picks, the nylon strings resonate along an Arab musical scale. Similar in size to an acoustic guitar but far different in shape and sound, the ‘ud is to many the most iconically Arab of all musical instruments. And Shaheen, whose expertise has earned him the nickname “Oudman,” would know.

Growing up in the Mediterranean coastal city of Haifa in the 1950s, the instrument has never been far from his reach. As a boy, he learned to play the round-backed, half-pear-shaped instrument amid an extraordinarily musical family. This included his father, Hikmat Shaheen, a well-known music educator, composer and ‘ud performer, and his younger brother Simon, who is today a virtuoso on both ‘ud and violin.

“Hundreds and hundreds of ‘uds passed through our house in those days. Every day there were four or five musicians coming and playing ‘ud,” Shaheen says, remembering how his father also made minor instrument repairs and that his uncle crafted ‘ud picks from goat horns. “And in the evenings, when the radio stations had to fill time between programs, the Shaheen house would stop to listen to a few minutes of ‘ud improvisation by the era’s great players.”

Soon he began learning the basics of woodworking after school at his grandfather’s carpentry shop, which would later beget a decades-long career.

When he arrived in New York in 1967, he says, players of his beloved instrument were mostly of Turkish and Armenian backgrounds.
“There was a vibrant nightclub scene with excellent singers and musicians,” he recalls, though outside of his musician’s community, “nobody knew what an ‘ud was.”

Shaheen spent years honing his craft, studying under ‘ud-maker Eddie Berberian, father of the well-known Armenian American ‘ud player John Berberian, before later apprenticing with New York-based luthier David Segal. Today, the Oudman is known for perfecting the acoustics on his clients’ ‘uds, and he is one of a few in what has become a much larger, much more diverse cultural scene committed to preserving and advancing the instrument’s craftsmanship and the sounds fast-plucking, virtuoso fingers can make.

For more than a thousand years, musicians across the Middle East, North Africa and southern Europe and Central Asia, much like members of the Shaheen family, have played the ‘ud for audiences large and small. It is frequently compared to the lute: Encyclopedia Britannica refers to the ‘ud as the “parent of the European lute” because of its fretless fingerboard, short neck and bent pegbox, as well as its similarities in pitch range. But its true derivation is quite an independent journey, and like most instruments, its history involves many varieties of ‘uds that have been developed through the centuries. These include the half-sized tuhfat al-‘ud as well as the narrower, longer-necked sister of the ‘ud, the kuwitra, which offers a smaller and shallower sound, four double strings, and it remains more common across the western regions of North Africa. The name lute itself, however, likely came from Arabic: al-‘ud, which rhymes with “food,” may have moved into Spanish as laud, and from there the change to lute would have been easy.

“It’s earthy and rounded, close to the cello,” Shaheen says. “And in a great instrument, there is an evenness of sound among all the strings.”

“It makes [people] weep when it sings, as though it / repeats to us what the doves have murmured in its ear.”

— al-Hilli, early-14th-century poet

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Fretwork

Modern ‘uds are unfretted, which means they do not have bars across their necks that mark the placement of notes on the scale. In this way, ‘uds are more kin to violins and cellos. But unlike these European unfretted instruments, ‘uds are plucked, not bowed. The absence of frets allows ‘ud musicians to play the subtle microtones that are integral to Arab music’s system of modes known as maqamat. From the seventh to approximately the 13th century ce, however, frets were often used on both the ‘ud and the related barbat, of pre-Islamic Persian origin. ‘Ud frets transitioned over the centuries into more complicated systems, which included new tones and opened up the possibilities of new maqamat.

Historic images of ‘uds show some with frets and some without, which suggests that while this might have been due a musician’s preference, it might also suggest that not all musicians required them. For example, Ibn al-Tahhan, a musician and music teacher in the court of Cairo in the 11th century, wrote that frets were widely used, but that he had no need of them, since he already knew the exact finger positions of all the notes.

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Shaheen says the Middle East has long embraced the instrument as culturally emblematic, so much so it is often called amir al-tarab, “the prince of enchantment,” in a musical sense. Today, the instrument has a global following of avid listeners and dedicated musicians, including popular stars such as the late Farid al-Atrash of Syria, the late Egyptian-born Mohamed el-Qasabgi, Simon Shaheen, and Iraqi composer Naseer Shamma, who currently resides in Cairo.
But the greatest achievement of the ‘ud perhaps has been its own longevity. It has enchanted listeners through more centuries than perhaps any other stringed instrument. Its range spans three octaves, but that is a technical view, one that belies the deeper power of the ‘ud, the range of expression those octaves can achieve in the right hands. “It makes [people] weep when it sings, as though it / repeats to us what the doves have murmured in its ear,” wrote al-Hilli, a poet of the late 13th and early 14th century. Two hundred years earlier, poet al-Husayn praised its ability to express the pangs of the soul, “the pain of tribulation.”

At the same time, says George Sawa, an Egyptian-born and now Toronto-based scholar of Arab music history, “its sound is so warm, gorgeous and gentle, especially the low notes. There’s something about it that’s just magical.”

In addition, each design of the ‘ud is often a unique celebration of fine woodworking. For ‘ud builders like Shaheen, the ‘uds are opportunities to express creativity not only through acoustic design, but also through choices of wood and ornamentation.

The distinctively pear- or egg-shaped soundboard, he explains, is made from softwoods like spruce. One or three sound holes adorn it: The large one in the center is called shamsiyah (meaning from the sun) and it is often—but not always—flanked by two smaller ones called qamara (from the moon). These were traditionally decorated with elaborately carved bone rosettes, but today, wood and plastic do the job just as well. The bowled back frame is constructed from thin strips, or ribs, of hardwood. Above its unfretted neck, the tuning pegs for the strings are offset at an angle. The result is a remarkably lightweight instrument, averaging about a kilogram.

The ‘ud is picked with a rishah, a long, narrow plectrum often made of plastic or animal horn, though in the past an eagle quill was regarded as ideal. Rishah in Arabic means bird feather. Strings were once made from silk or gut, but most now are made with durable nylon, steel or silk covered in copper wire.

Rachel Beckles Willson, a professorial research associate at the School of Oriental and African Studies University of London, is currently working on a book about the history of the ‘ud. She explains the challenges of the undertaking.

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The Lute and the ‘Ud

In Muslim Spain, known as al-Andalus, rulers patronized and enjoyed music—especially the ‘ud—as much as their counterparts in the Middle East.

In 822 ce Ziryab (“Blackbird”), the genius musician of the Abbasid court in Baghdad, arrived in Córdoba, seat of the western Umayyad court of ‘Abd al-Rahman ii. There Ziryab became one of the most culturally influential figures of his time. He brought with him his understanding of the five-string ‘ud, with its lion-gut bass strings; he also set up a music school. The region became renowned for its music. 

Later Christian rulers also patronized musicians. Alphonso x, who ruled Seville from 1252 ce until his death in 1284 ce, commissioned the compilation of a song book in honor of the Virgin Mary called the Cantigas de Santa Maria illustrated with images in which musicians, both European and Arab, appeared. It was said to reflect the makeup of his own court musicians: included are valuable historic images of ‘uds.

But after the explusions of Muslims and Jews began in earnest in 1492, the ‘ud seems to have disappeared from what became Spain. In its place, the vihuela became popular, and though it was tuned exactly like an ‘ud, it is regarded by music historians as an ancestor of the guitar. In addition, the Renaissance lute did appear in Spain, but it was not developed there; rather, it entered Spain, and by the time it arrived, it had been altered to suit European musical styles and scales.

Thus, it was in Sicily the ‘ud-influenced lute’s journey north really began. Sicily was governed by Arab rulers from 827 ce until 1061 ce when Norman forces took control. Many Muslims stayed on, and many participated in the administration at the highest levels. The result was a powerfully multicultural society.

Norman King Roger ii ruled there from 1130 to 1154 ce. Among his commissions was the Cappella Palatino, a royal chapel in Palermo whose ceiling featured frescoes of musicians that included several ‘ud players. His grandson, Frederick ii, hailed from the German Hohenstaufen dynasty and also spoke and wrote Arabic, and he was also a poet and an enthusiast for eastern music and musicians. Frederick and his lute-playing son King Manfred, who reigned 1258 to 1266 ce, are said to have invited Tuscan poets to Sicily, where they may have sung their verses to lute accompaniment. They also brought to Sicily music teachers from their native Germany.

When the Hohenstaufen dynasty was defeated in battle in 1266 ce, these poets and musicians returned to the mainland. With their return, the ‘ud’s influence diffused farther north into Italy, Germany, and later France.

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“The ‘ud has become a significant cultural icon, which means that many groups of people want to claim it,” she says. “It’s caught up in national and regional historical claims, so its historiography carries those tensions.”

She continues, “Its name has a history that begins long after its existence, and its name encompasses many similar, but not identical, objects.”

The earliest forms of the ‘ud appeared in the second and first centuries bce. A commonly recited story about its origins, according to ninth-century ce scholar Abu Nasr Muhammad ibn Muhammad al-Farabi, attributes its invention to Lamech, an eighth-generation descendant of Adam. Al-Farabi says Lamech was inspired to build the instrument after seeing a vision for its shape in the bones of his deceased son, which were hanging—as in a period of mourning—from a tree. A more likely explanation may be found in the 14th-century writings of Abu al-Fida and Abu al-Walid ibn al-Shihnah, who placed the origins of the ‘ud between 270 and 240 bce, during the reign of Persian King Shapur i, though this, too, is mostly speculative.

Instruments with long necks with one or two strings do appear in early Mesopotamian and Egyptian iconography, though the first known image of a pear-shaped, short-necked, ‘ud-like instrument dates from a first-century ce relief in the Graeco-Bactrian city of Gandhara in present-day Afghanistan. In the centuries that followed, another short-necked string instrument, the barbat, took hold in Persia.

The ‘ud came to prominence in al-Hira, in what is now central Iraq, just south of Kufa. Capital of the Arab Lakhmid Kingdom from 300 to 602 ce, al-Hira gained a reputation for its literary and musical culture. In the late sixth century ce, when the ‘ud arrived in the Hijaz, in present-day western Saudi Arabia, musicians there were already playing other short-necked string instruments such as the kiran, the muattar and the mizhar, which were covered with animal skin.

In arabic, ‘ud means “piece of the tree” or “piece of wood,” which may refer to its wooden sound board, its stem-like neck or to the wooden plectrum first used to play it.

In Arabic, ‘ud means “piece of the tree” or “piece of wood,” which may refer to its wooden sound board, its stem-like neck or to the wooden plectrum first used to play it. This may account for a description by 11th-century poet al-Qayrawani, who wrote, “From which branches grew and groves were fragrant … When the ’ud was green birds sang on it … When the ‘ud became dry, maidens sang on it.”

Though musicians continued playing the earlier instruments, the ‘ud gradually became the favorite, and further varieties followed. In eighth-century Baghdad, a musician named Zalzal introduced the ‘ud al-shabbut, perhaps referring to an ‘ud shaped like a large river fish of the Tigris and Euphrates. This was around the time the ‘ud was playing a leading role in the flowering of Arab music and culture that peaked beginning with the reign of Caliph Harun al-Rashid. ‘Ud players also provided entertainment for the wealthy.

It was also around this time that Muslim scholars approached the ‘ud using Greek musical concepts to explain Arab music theory. They studied the mathematical relationships among the notes and the maqamat (modes or scales) from Arab, Persian, Greek and Byzantine sources, proposing tunings and fret placements that used movable gut or string.

Over the centuries, scholars have classified ‘uds according to the numbers of strings on them. Some early instruments offered four, while modern ones offer six. The ‘ud al-qadim (old ‘ud), for example, had four strings. It was this design that was popular in ninth-century Baghdad, where the musician Ziryab added a fifth to make the ‘ud kamil (perfect ‘ud). Habib Hassan Touma, author of Music of the Arabs, explains that the four well-known strings were named after the Greek concept of the body’s four “humors,” but the fifth string “symbolized the soul, since the four body humors, as [Ziryab] maintained, could not exist without the soul.”

‘Ud makers around the world now post videos of their shops and their creations, boosting the instrument’s popularity today.

Later players added a second string to each of the five, creating a course, or a set of double strings, tuned identically, which added volume. By 1500, a six-course, ‘ud akmal (more perfect ‘ud) appeared, followed by the yet more-extended ‘ud mukamal with seven courses. In recent years, even an eight-course ‘ud has popped up. Today, however, most have five courses and a single bass string, for a total of 11 strings.

The stories of surviving antique ‘uds link to the instrument’s recent past, and Beckles Willson champions their stories in her research. A classically trained musician, composer and saxophonist, the professor traveled to Israel and Palestine in 2006 to research classical music in Arab communities. There she met Nizar Rohana, a musician and instrument collector.

She was thus introduced to the ‘ud, she recalls, “as something rich historically and also variegated, so every single instrument was different in size, shape, story, sound and type of decoration.”

She connects ‘uds with her experience in the region, equating their little-known musical stories with both the larger stories of the cultures of the region and more personal family stories like Shaheen’s.

Beckles Willson’s research led to ‘ud lessons, and also to founding oudmigrations.com, a website for sharing stories on historic ‘uds and musicians.

Oudmigrations.com collaborator Karim Othman Hassan writes about what may be the oldest existing ‘ud, now housed in the Musical Instruments Museum in Brussels. The Egyptian instrument arrived in Brussels in 1839, and it is an example of the seven-course ‘ud mukamal.

Well into the late 19th century, the ‘ud persisted in popularity as Arab music blossomed and, in the 20th century, transitioned into recordings and film. Virtuoso ‘ud players rose to celebrity on the airwaves, and ‘ud makers flourished too. Today, musicians and collectors have their prized ‘uds, and among them, the highest reputation is accorded those made by the Nahat family of Damascus from the 1870s to the 1980s. Their ‘uds are considered some of the best around, combining exquisite craft and outstanding sound. Over the generations the Nahat family made thousands of ‘uds, and many still exist. Shaheen attributes part of the Nahat family’s success to their proximity to high-quality instrument makers in Turkey and Europe.
“The Nahats set up the structural sound bracing of the ‘ud, and that’s what most Arab ‘ud makers use today,” Shaheen says.

To achieve their preferred range of sounds, ‘ud players consider a combination of features. And ‘ud makers will also customize instruments to the changing sound preferences of their clients. For example, Shaheen notes that some Arab players prefer Turkish ‘uds, while some Turkish ones prefer Arab ‘uds. Turkish ‘uds he explains, tune one note higher than Arab ‘uds, and Turkish ‘uds are built to withstand that higher tension, thus bringing out bright, higher tones. Arab ‘uds, which often feature elaborate inlay decorations around the sound holes and on the neck, can be wider and larger, and offer warmer, richer tones than their smaller counterparts.

‘Ud makers around the world now post videos of themselves working in their shops and playing their creations as part of a movement online that has aided the instrument’s long popularity. Teachers of the ‘ud share technique tips on YouTube, and dedicated students study with teachers continents away. Even for Shaheen, as he sits in his workshop, so far from his homeland and so many years removed from his childhood living room, where he once listened to stoppers-by playing the ‘ud, he continues to connect with other ‘ud enthusiasts worldwide. He is one of many Arab musicians carrying the story of the ‘ud into the future, and with every song his fingers direct, the tradition lives on another day.

Forgotten History of America’s Worst Racial Massacre

Hundreds of black citizens were killed in Elaine, Ark. back in 1919. And most people are oblivious of that grave incident. No justice was ever meted out nor the perpetrators punished!

The Forgotten History of America’s Worst Racial Massacre
By Nan Elizabeth Woodruff
The New York Times, Sept 30, 2019
One hundred years ago this week, one of the worst episodes of racial violence in American history unfolded in Elaine, Ark., a small town on the Mississippi. Details remain difficult to verify. The perpetrators suppressed coverage of the events, and the victims, terrified black families, had no one to turn for help. In fact, local police were complicit in the killing of untold numbers of African-Americans.

The Elaine massacre was among the worst instances of racial violence in American history, and it took place in a region, the Delta, that defined itself by its violence and oppression. One African-American, William Pickens, described the region as “the American Congo.” Elaine, though an isolated plantation region, was part of the broader social upheaval following World War I that came in the form of massive strikes and racial confrontations, both at home and abroad.

Elaine sits in Phillips County, on one of the many bends in the Mississippi, roughly 95 miles southwest of Memphis. There, in the early fall of 1919, a different struggle for democracy was taking place. Emboldened by their war experience, African-American veterans returned to the Delta to demand the full rights of citizenship and justice, not only before the law but also in their labors. In Phillips County, this struggle directly challenged planter dominance.

The town was at the center of a rapidly changing lumber and plantation economy known for harsh working conditions. Sharecroppers worked the land for a small share of the crop and were forced to sell their cotton to the landowners, who paid less than market prices. Workers also had to buy food, clothing, household wares, tools, seed and fertilizer at the plantation commissary, which charged exorbitant interest rates. It was a system intended to keep black people in debt and dependent upon planters. Legal disfranchisement stripped them of the vote and an ability to share in any benefits of citizenship.

But World War I brought changes to the Delta, as it did in Northern urban centers. Men and women migrated to Northern factories or joined the military, creating a labor shortage in the cotton fields and lumber mills. Women received domestic allotment checks from men in the military, giving them cash beyond the control of planters. Consequently, plantation owners and lumber mills had to pay higher wages to have the cotton picked or timber milled. Even worse from the planters’ perspective, the much-feared radical Industrial Workers of the World, or Wobblies, were rumored to be organizing in the fields and mills.

Most Americans, unaware of the killings in Elaine, continued to go about their lives.

The heroism of black soldiers in the war enhanced the struggle for black freedom, causing industrialists and plantation owners to brace themselves for the return of black veterans. As racialized violence spread in both Northern and Southern cities during the Red Summer of 1919, Delta planters were paying close attention. The violence occurred not only in the more familiar urban centers of Chicago and Washington, but also in the hinterlands of Omaha; Charleston, S.C.; Longview, Tex.; and in the plantation region of the Arkansas Delta.

Late in the evening of Sept. 30, black sharecropper families gathered in the Hoop Spur church near Elaine. They came to discuss membership in an organization called the Progressive Farmers and Household Union, which would help them secure a fair price for the cotton they picked and to buy land. They aimed to hire a lawyer to represent them with the landlords. The 1919 cotton crop was the most profitable in history and they stood to make a good amount of money.

At 11 p.m., a band of white men shot into the church. Black guards returned the fire, killing a white agent of the Missouri Pacific Railroad. News of the shooting quickly reached the county seat of Helena. Soon, word spread that blacks were attacking whites in Elaine. By early morning Oct. 1, the sheriff sent white veterans from the American Legion post to suppress what he deemed an insurrection.

Calls went out to the governor for federal troops. Telephone lines to Elaine were cut. Throughout the day at least 1,000 white vigilantes came from all over the state and from Mississippi to join plantation owners, their managers, sheriffs, deputies and the veterans to put down what they called an uprising. It was effectively an invasion. By day’s end, countless black women, men and children had been slaughtered.

The following morning, Gov. Charles H. Brough of Arkansas and a World War I veteran, Col. Issac Jencks, personally escorted 583 soldiers, including a machine gun battalion, from Camp Pike in Little Rock, the state capital, to Elaine. Colonel Jencks sent all of the white women and children to Helena by train, ordered the immediate disarming of everyone and authorized the killing of black insurgents who failed to disarm. Then the real massacre began: For the next five days, Colonel Jencks and his troops, assisted by vigilantes, hunted black people over a 200-mile radius. They scorched and burned homes with families inside, slaughtered and tortured others. The troops were aided by seven machine guns.

On Oct. 7, Colonel Jencks declared the insurrection over and withdrew his troops. He brought the men and women deemed insurrectionists to the Phillips County jail in Helena. On Oct. 31, a grand jury indicted 122 black men and women for offenses ranging from murder to night riding. A jury convicted 12 black men in the murders of three white men, even though two of the deaths had occurred from white people accidentally shooting each other in a frenzy. The “confessions” of the black men had been secured through torture. Black people were thus blamed, sentenced and jailed for their own massacre.

Local officials and businessmen conducted their own investigation of what had transpired in the Elaine area. They produced a predictable narrative that resembled those dating back to slavery. In their view “a deliberately planned insurrection” had occurred, where black sharecroppers had intended to murder the plantation owners to seize the land. The findings blamed outside agitators for stirring up ignorant sharecroppers. The committee’s narrative appeared in newspapers all over the country. Colonel Jencks’s report of his mission supported this view, claiming only two black people and one of his corporals had died. He praised his troops for their restraint in suppressing the rebellion.

The official narrative presented a picture at odds with reality. According to several accounts from white witnesses, both vigilantes and the troops committed acts of barbarism. A local schoolteacher saw “28 black people killed, their bodies thrown into a pit and burned,” and “16 African Americans killed, their bodies hanging from a bridge outside of Helena.”

A Memphis reporter described events on Oct. 2 after the troops had arrived. Troops and vigilantes, he noted, went into the canebrakes in search of “negro desperadoes,” leaving dead bodies “lying in the road a few miles outside of the city. Enraged citizens fired at the bodies of the dead negroes as they rode out of Helena toward Elaine.”

Still others described the barbarism of “cutting off the ears or toes of dead negroes for souvenirs and the dragging of their bodies through the streets of Elaine.” Gerald B. Lambert, the founder of Listerine, who owned 21,000 acres near Elaine, saw white men spread throughout the woods, firing at any suspicious person. “A steel gondola car was hauled back and forth on the railroad track,” he said, adding, “the men inside firing from the shelter of the steel walls of the car,” shooting black people. He also told how soldiers brought a suspected union leader to his company store for interrogation, poured kerosene over his body and tossed a match.

The account that best captured the perspective of the sharecroppers came from Ida Wells Barnett, the legendary anti-lynching crusader and journalist. She had been driven from her home in Memphis to Chicago because of her activism. One of the convicted 12 wrote to her from prison, requesting help. Courageously, she dressed up as a sharecropper and went to Arkansas. There she interviewed the 12 prisoners accused of murder, their wives, and many others, publishing her findings in a 1920 pamphlet.
The account that best captured the perspective of the sharecroppers came from Ida Wells Barnett, the legendary anti-lynching crusader and journalist.

Ms. Wells Barnett gathered testimonies that described the sheer horror of the massacre from those who endured and lived to tell their stories. One union member, Ed Ware, told her that men had fired into the Hoop Spur church, killing several people, then burned it down the next day with bodies inside. When he returned home, 150 men came to ransack his house, seizing his union meeting minutes and his Masonic lodge books. As they surrounded his house, another man inside, Charlie Robinson, tried to run away. He was elderly and handicapped, and ran too slowly. They shot him and left him to die. They stole Ware’s cow, two mules, one horse, a farm wagon, his Ford car and various household goods. He lost 121 acres of cotton and corn.

Many families described how they had run into the woods for safety from bloodthirsty mobs, hoping to surrender themselves to the federal troops for safety. Instead, the troops either shot or arrested them.

Vigilantes from Mississippi seized another union member, Lula Black, and her four children from her house, knocked her down, pistol whipped and kicked her, then took her to jail. Carrying an ax with their guns, they then moved to another home, where they murdered yet another union member, Frances Hall. In a final act of disrespect, they tied her dress over her head and left her body on the side of the road for several days.

Seventy-nine-year-old Ed Coleman had remained at home with his wife when people fleeing Hoop Spur came to his house and warned them to leave. As they ran from the posse, the Colemans saw his neighbor, Jim Miller, and his family burned alive in their house. After hiding for two days in the woods, the Colemans returned home to find dead bodies of women and children scattered about their community.

Families of union members found no welcome when they returned to their homes. The wife of Frank Moore had hidden for four weeks. When she came back to her neighborhood, a plantation manager, Billy Archdale, told her “if she did not leave, he would kill her, burn her up, and no one would know where she was.” Most of those who survived found their homes emptied of possessions that appeared in white peoples’ homes.

Ms. Wells Barnett provided hard evidence of the massacre, but it took the Supreme Court to expose the truth to national attention. In Moore v. Dempsey, the court in 1923 overturned the convictions of six of the Elaine 12, arguing that the confessions had been secured through torture. The trial had occurred in a setting dominated by a mob spirit, violating the prisoners’ right to due process.

The decision by the justices was aided by two white men involved in the massacre who reversed their previous testimonies. They now verified that the planters had gone to the Hoop Spur church to destroy the union and that the posse had killed their own men, instead of the black people who had been accused. They described the wholesale massacre of hundreds of unarmed and defenseless black people, and the torture used to secure confessions. The murders, thefts, violence and terror continued long after the troops had gone and the convicted men had been released.

It is impossible to establish an accurate death toll. Military reports were intentionally vague. Local authorities blocked press coverage. Many denied the massacre had occurred, leaving accounts of the slaughter to witnesses, reports from Wells Barnett, and stories passed down through families of the victims. Estimates have ranged from 25 to 853, the latter from an Arkansas Gazette reporter who named no source. Walter White, of the N.A.A.C.P., reported first that more than 100 African-Americans were killed, later changing it to 250.

At least two historians, including myself, have settled on a reasonable estimate of 200, recognizing that the toll was most likely far greater. What is certain is that the massacre cast a long shadow for decades, with fear of reprisals silencing those who witnessed and survived the terror.

The descendants of the massacre have begun to organize to make their stories heard. The Elaine Legacy Center, in conjunction with the Dewitt Proctor Conference, held a Truth Hearing in February where 12 commissioners heard several descendants convey powerful stories of the massacre handed down through their families. Many wept as they told of murder, land theft, forced migration and the legacies of living in a region where fear of retribution silenced people over generations. They seek redress, not in the form of apologies, but in recognition of the harm done, and of the way generations continue to suffer the consequences. The descendants of the wealthier white perpetrators, they insist, have profited, and continue to do so, from the suffering and loss that their families endured in 1919.

Americans have yet to reckon with this horrible past. Elaine was probably the largest massacre of black people in post-Civil War history, yet no federal investigation was ever conducted. This neglect by the government came in the face of people who merely sought to exercise their basic rights to secure a lawyer to defend their property.

America cannot address the inequality, poverty, inadequate education, the racially biased criminal justice system, and the limited life chances of black people that define contemporary society until the nation confronts and acknowledges this history. The obligations of the past weigh heavily upon the present.
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Dr. Woodruff is a historian and the author of “American Congo: The African American Freedom Struggle in the Delta.”