Malcolm X

by Manning Marable

  In late 1958, an African-American FBI informant candidly evaluated both Malcolm’s character and his standing within the NOI: Brother MALCOLM ranks about third in influence. He has unlimited freedom of movement in all states, and outside of the Messenger's immediate family he is the most trusted follower. He is an excellent speaker, forceful and convincing. He is an expert organizer and an untiring worker. . . . MALCOLM has a strong hatred for the “blue eyed devils,” but this hatred is not likely to erupt in violence as he is much too clever and intelligent for that. . . . He is fearless and cannot be intimidated by words or threats of personal harm. He has most of the answers at his fingertips and should be carefully dealt with. He is not likely to violate any ordinances or laws. He neither smokes nor drinks and is of high moral character.

  This assessment underscored the FBI’s problem. Though the Bureau saw Malcolm as a potential threat to national security, his rigid behavioral code and strong leadership skills would make him hard to discredit. He did not have obvious vulnerabilities, nor was he likely to be baited into making a mistake. Yet what the evaluation also gathered, quite astutely, was that Malcolm’s authority within the sect emanated directly from his closeness to Elijah Muhammad. It would not take the Bureau long to deduce that any conflict provoked between Muhammad and Malcolm could weaken the Nation as a whole.

  By late 1957, Malcolm was becoming the NOI’s version of Adam Clayton Powell, Jr.—a celebrity minister based in New York City, but whose larger role took him on the road for weeks at a time. His responsibilities still growing, he led a pressurized existence, his life often a blur of planes and trains, speeches and sermons. At some level, he must have felt a great weight of loneliness and frustration, especially as the freshness of new initiatives gave way to the inevitability of routine. The acclaim he found so intoxicating at the beginning came with equally significant burdens: the difficulties and humiliations that all blacks encountered when traveling across the country during these years; the administrative and budgetary puzzles of managing thousands of people; the challenges involved in pastoral work—going to see members in hospitals, overseeing funerals, preparing sermons and prayers. When he was in New York, he was expected to be a nightly presence in his temple, while the week’s schedule was strictly regimented. Every Monday was FOI night, where men were drilled in martial arts, as well as “the responsibilities of a husband and father,” as Malcolm put it. Tuesday evenings were “Unity Night, where the brothers and sisters enjoy each other’s conversational company.” Wednesday was Student Enrollment, with lectures explaining NOI theology. Thursdays were reserved for the MGT and General Civilization Class, at which Malcolm frequently lectured. Fridays were Civilization Night, with classes “for brothers and sisters in the area of the domestic relations, emphasizing how both husbands and wives must understand and respect each other's true natures.” On Saturdays, members were free to visit each other's homes, with Sundays reserved for the week’s main religious service.

  Whether prompted by a gnawing sense of emptiness in his life or something less emotional, Malcolm’s thoughts turned to marriage. Such a move would have practical benefits; Malcolm calculated that he could be a more effective representative of Elijah Muhammad if he married. He had heard the many rumors about his romantic attachments, and had tried to suppress them. Everyone in Temple No. 7 undoubtedly knew about their minister's long-term relationship with Evelyn Williams. It is impossible to know whether the minister rekindled sexual intimacies with his longtime lover, or if Islamic sanctions against premarital sex affected their behavior. In 1956, Malcolm proposed marriage and Evelyn accepted, but a few days later he retracted his offer. Of all the women with whom he was involved, Malcolm would later write to Elijah Muhammad, “Sister Evelyn is the only one who had a legitiment [sic] beef against me . . . and I do bear witness that if she complains she is justified.”

  But Evelyn was not the only recipient of a marriage proposal from Malcolm in 1956. That same year, he asked another NOI woman, Betty Sue Williams. Little is known of her, though she was likely the sister of Robert X Williams, minister of the Buffalo temple. Both women, in different ways, were unsuitable choices. Malcolm sensed that he had built bonds of trust and spiritual kinship between himself, his religious followers, and to a growing extent the Harlem community. The woman he chose as his wife would impact all these relationships. Romantic love and sexual attractiveness, he reasoned, had little to do with fulfilling his primary roles as a minister and role model. Evelyn had known and loved him when he was Detroit Red, and though he had changed drastically, her claim on him by virtue of their shared past would always compete with his commitment to the Nation. For this reason, Malcolm believed it necessary for his spouse to have no knowledge of or connection to his prior life. And Betty Sue, who probably lived in Buffalo, four hundred miles from Harlem, was not a member of Temple No. 7’s intimate community. Malcolm was proud of the bonds he had established with both the members of Temple No. 7 and the Harlem community generally. The minister ’s wife, he felt, was an extension of himself ; she would sometimes be his representative at public occasions, and would have to possess the same commitment to Muhammad and the NOI that he had. Malcolm’s failed proposals in 1956 surely increased his sense of personal isolation and private loneliness.

  If practical reasons came to dominate the way Malcolm thought about choosing a wife, it may have had much to do with the sense of betrayal he long harbored about his mistreatment at the hands of partners past, especially Bea. He had come to fear that it was impossible for him to love or trust any woman. “I’d had too much experience that women were only tricky, deceitful, untrustworthy flesh,” he complained. “To tell a woman not to talk too much was like telling Jesse James not to carry a gun, or telling a hen not to cackle.” And knowing when not to talk was a crucial skill for anyone who was to be Mrs. Malcolm Shabazz.

  Malcolm also possessed firm ideas about the role a wife should play. “Islam has very strict laws and teachings about women,” he observed. “The true nature of a man is to be strong, and a woman’s true nature is to be weak . . . [a man] must control her if he expects to get her respect.” Because he viewed all women as inherently inferior and subordinate to males, he was not looking for a spouse with whom he would share his innermost feelings. He expected his wife to be obedient and chaste, to bear his children and to maintain a Muslim household.

  These sentiments were much in keeping with those of the Nation at large, which were in turn similar to those of orthodox Islam. In the Qur'anic tradition, the primary objectives of marriage (nikah) are sexual reproduction and the transfer and inheritance of private property from one generation to the next. Nikah also controls the temptation toward promiscuity. Carnal knowledge can easily lead to social chaos, or fitna, if not tightly controlled. To most Muslims, premarital sex, homosexuality, prostitution, and extramarital sexual intercourse are all absolutely forbidden.

  Throughout the Islamic world, marriage is perceived as the uniting of two families or kinship lines rather than an act dictated by two individuals. In the negotiations with the relatives of the husband-to-be, a first-time bride is often represented by a wali, or guardian, who is normally a father or elder male relative. Premarital meetings between women and men are strictly supervised. Marriage is perceived as based on mutual respect, friendship, and a joint commitment toward an Islamic lifestyle. These processes, unfortunately, have tended to reinforce Islamic structures of patriarchy and domestic violence against women down through the centuries.

  The Holy Qur’an is quite specific regarding Islamic expectations for the duties of women. Surah XXIV, verse 33, instructs “believing women”: to lower their gaze and be modest, and to display of their adornment only that which is apparent, and to draw their veils over their bosoms, and not to reveal their adornment save to their own husband or fathers or husband’s fathers, or their sons or their husband’s sons, or their brothers or their brothers’ sons or sisters’ sons, or their women, or their slaves, or male atte
ndants who lack vigour, or children who know naught of women’s nakedness. And let them not stamp their feet so as to reveal what they hide of their adornment.

  The Nation attempted to incorporate some of these values within its own catechism. Elijah Muhammad’s views about gender relations would be set out in his 1965 manifesto Message to the Blackman in America. To Muhammad, males and females occupied separate spheres. Black women had been the mothers of civilization, and they would play a central role in the construction of the world to come. Metaphorically, they were the field in which a mighty Nation would grow; thus it was essential for black men to keep the devil, the white man, away from his “field,” because the black woman was far more valuable than any cash crop. There was no question that all women had to be controlled; the question was, who should exercise that control, the white man or the black? He also warned against birth control, a devilish plot to carry out genocide against black babies. It was precisely a woman’s ability to produce children that gave the weaker sex its value. “Who wants a sterile wom[a]n?” he asked rhetorically.

  What attracted so many intelligent, independent African-American women to such a patriarchal sect? The sexist and racist world of the 1940s and 1950s provides part of the answer. Many African-American women in the paid labor force were private household workers and routinely experienced sexual harassment by their white employers. The NOI, by contrast, offered them the protections of private patriarchy. Like their middle-class white counterparts, African-American women in the Nation were not expected to hold full-time jobs, and even if Malcolm’s frequent misogynistic statements, especially in his sermons, were extreme even by the sexist standards of the NOI, it offered protection, stability, and a kind of leadership. Malcolm’s emphasis on the sanctity of the black home made an explicit promise “that families won’t be abandoned, that women will be cherished and protected, [and] that there will be economic stability.ʺ

  Temple women during those years rarely perceived themselves as being subjugated. The MGT was its own center of activity, in which members participated in neighborhood activities and were encouraged to monitor their children’s progress in school. At the Newark NOI temple, not far from Temple No. 7, women were involved in establishing small businesses. They also took an active role in working with their local board of education as well as other community concerns. It is likely that Harlem’s women made similar efforts. As with those who were working in civil rights, women in the NOI had in mind the future of the black community. What attracted them to the Nation was the possibility of strong, healthy families, supportive relationships, and personal engagement in building crime-free black neighborhoods and ultimately an independent black nation.

  In the Autobiography, Malcolm tells how his relationship with Betty Sanders evolved within the parameters defined by both Islam and the NOI. By early 1957 he was aware that Betty had joined Temple No. 7. He soon learned that she was from Detroit, had attended Tuskegee, and was currently at nursing school in the city. She was physically attractive—medium brown in color, dark hair, brown eyes, and a lively smile. Her education had given her the confidence and experience to stand before groups and lecture, and to direct the work of others. Malcolm began dropping in on Betty’s classes at the temple on Thursday evenings. His attitude toward her was formal but friendly. He eventually overcame his reservations to invite her out—to New York’s Museum of Natural History. As he recounted their first date, his sole purpose was to view several museum displays that would help her in her lectures. Betty agreed to go and an afternoon outing was set. Hours before their meeting, however, Malcolm got cold feet, calling her to say that he had to cancel; another matter had come up. Betty’s rejoinder was surprisingly blunt: “Well, you sure waited long enough to tell me, Brother Minister, I was just ready to walk out of the door.” Embarrassed, he recanted, and hastily agreed to keep the date after all. The afternoon went off well, and he was pleasantly surprised to be “halfway impressed by her intelligence and also her education.” The two continued to meet and work together, but Malcolm was paralyzed by the thought that if he showed he was romantically attracted to her she might reject him.

  The NOI by now possessed the financial resources to fly Malcolm to Chicago each month to consult with Elijah Muhammad. At one of these meetings, Malcolm admitted that he might ask Betty to marry him. Since her foster parents were opposed to her membership in the Nation, Muhammad decided to investigate her suitability for his prized disciple. On the pretext of several days’ training at national headquarters, he invited Betty to Chicago. During her time there, she was the houseguest of Elijah and Clara Muhammad. Afterward, Muhammad told Malcolm approvingly that he thought Betty X was “a fine sister.”

  In Malcolm’s telling (and in Spike Lee’s film), sexual attraction was the primary force drawing the two together, yet some of those who worked closely with Malcolm saw things differently. James 67X recalled that the minister saw his marriage as the fulfillment of an obligation to the Nation. Any personal feelings were secondary. “Brother, a minister has to be married,” Malcolm told him, alluding to the Islamic precepts. To avoid fitna, the threats of scandal and sin, even a loveless marriage could become a haven. Another confidant, Charles 37X Morris, became convinced that Malcolm “didn’t have no feelings for a woman,” an ambiguous statement that nonetheless suggests that his minister was not enthusiastic about marriage. Charles believed that it was Elijah, not Malcolm, who was the chief instigator of his lieutenant’s marriage. Years after Malcolm’s death, Louis Farrakhan insisted that Malcolm continued to be deeply in love with Evelyn Williams. Yet Betty herself—or Dr. Betty Shabazz, as she became known—would always insist that Malcolm had pursued her “persistently and correctly.”

  Still, the unusual way Malcolm proposed to Betty suggests that his former lieutenants may have had a point. Early in the morning on Sunday, January 12, 1958, he stood in a pay telephone booth at a gas station in Detroit, having driven all night from New York City. He reached her at her hospital dormitory and immediately blurted out, “Look, do you want to get married?” Betty, overcome, dropped the receiver, but as soon as she had it in hand again said, “Yes.” She promptly packed her suitcase and immediately flew to Detroit.

  As soon as Betty was in Detroit, the young couple went together to the Malloys, who were stunned. Betty recalled leaving Malcolm in the living room as she retreated with her parents to the back of the house to tell them the news. They did not respond well. Helen Malloy sobbed uncontrollably, complaining that Malcolm was too old and “not even a Christian.” Her father was even more direct: “What have we done to make you hate us so?” Betty began to weep as well, but she was determined to have her way. What Malcolm surmised from the raised voices and gales of sobbing is hard to know. He simply recalled that the Malloys “were very friendly, and happily surprised.”

  The news received a better reception from the Littles. Malcolm’s siblings in the Detroit area were overjoyed, and probably extremely relieved, that their thirty-two-year-old brother was finally settling down. On January 14, Malcolm and Betty drove to nearby northern Indiana, where liberal marriage laws would make it easy to wed quickly. However, the state had recently established a mandatory waiting period, so the two went on to Philbert’s home in Lansing, where they learned it was possible to marry within two days. They obtained the necessary blood tests, bought a pair of rings, and filled out a marriage certificate. Then came the ceremony itself, on January 4. Malcolm’s rendering is both semicomical and bittersweet, because it reveals little sense of joy. “An old hunchback white man,” a justice of the peace, performed the ceremony. Wilfred and Philbert were there, although in Malcolm’s version of events all the witnesses were white. Malcolm was most offended when the justice of the peace instructed him to “kiss your bride.” Malcolm protested, “I got her out of there. All that Hollywood stuff!” He ridiculed “these movie and television-addicted women expecting some bouquets and kissing and hugging . . . like Cinderella.” The newlyweds spent the
night at a hotel, Betty flying back to New York the next day to attend her classes.

  When the news of Minister Malcolm’s nuptials reached Temple No. 7, there was pandemonium, and not all of it celebratory. The NOI was predominantly an organization in which males fraternized easily with each other, hugging and embracing in public. While physical contact between genders was prohibited, male-to-male contact, especially within the martial arts context, was routine. It was not a surprise to Malcolm, therefore, when some brothers at Temple No. 7 “looked at me as though I had betrayed them.” Malcolm was seen as a modern-day Abelard, the priest who had surrendered to earthly passions, abandoning his true calling. But he was far more intrigued with the temple sisters’ response to Betty. “I never will forget hearing one exclaim, ‘You got him!’ That’s like I was telling you, the nature of women. That’s part of why I never have been able to shake it out of my mind that she knew something—all the time. Maybe she did get me!”

  Evelyn, who was at the temple when the news of Malcolm’s marriage was announced, ran from the building screaming. Undoubtedly Malcolm felt guilty; if, as Farrakhan suggested, he continued to harbor feelings for her, the formal ending of their relationship may have been almost as difficult for Malcolm. But just as practical considerations had motivated his desire to be married, it now drove his resolve to restore order within the temple. He consulted with Muhammad, and it was decided that Evelyn would relocate to Chicago, where the national office would employ her as one of Muhammad’s secretaries. This must have seemed like the best solution to Malcolm, because, even if he had heard the rumors that occasionally surfaced in the temple about the Messenger, he could not have guessed how the move would come to complicate his life.