Org Web Adapter

pages/mlk_s_letter_from_birmingham_jail.org

ID
45569d5c-067d-4096-bef2-8f5278f27ca6

MLK's Letter From Birmingham Jail

- tags ::

- source :: http://abacus.bates.edu/admin/offices/dos/mlk/letter.html

Text

LETTER FROM BIRMINGHAM JAIL

April 16, 1963

MY DEAR FELLOW CLERGYMEN:

While confined here in the Birmingham city jail, I came across your recent

statement calling my present activities "unwise and untimely." Seldom do I pause

to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all the

criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would have little time for

anything other than such correspondence in the course of the day, and I would

have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine

good will and that your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I want to try to

answer your statements in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

I think I should indicate why I am here In Birmingham, since you have been

influenced by the view which argues against "outsiders coming in." I have the

honor of serving as president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference,

an organization operating in every southern state, with headquarters in Atlanta,

Georgia. We have some eighty-five affiliated organizations across the South, and

one of them is the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. Frequently we

share staff, educational and financial resources with our affiliates. Several

months ago the affiliate here in Birmingham asked us to be on call to engage in

a nonviolent direct-action program if such were deemed necessary. We readily

consented, and when the hour came we lived up to our promise. So I, along with

several members of my staff, am here because I was invited here I am here

because I have organizational ties here.

But more basically, I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the

prophets of the eighth century B.C. left their villages and carried their "thus

saith the Lord" far beyond the boundaries of their home towns, and just as the

Apostle Paul left his village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ

to the far corners of the Greco-Roman world, so am I compelled to carry the

gospel of freedom beyond my own home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond

to the Macedonian call for aid.

Moreover, I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states.

I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in

Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught

in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny.

Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford

to live with the narrow, provincial "outside agitator" idea. Anyone who lives

inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere within its

bounds.

You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I

am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that

brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest

content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with

effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that

demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate

that the city's white power structure left the Negro community with no

alternative.

In any nonviolent campaign there are four basic steps: collection of the facts

to determine whether injustices exist; negotiation; self-purification; and

direct action. We have gone through all of these steps in Birmingham. There can

be no gainsaying the fact that racial injustice engulfs this community.

Birmingham is probably the most thoroughly segregated city in the United States.

Its ugly record of brutality is widely known. Negroes have experienced grossly

unjust treatment in the courts. There have been more unsolved bombings of Negro

homes and churches in Birmingham than in any other city in the nation. These are

the hard, brutal facts of the case. On the basis of these conditions, Negro

leaders sought to negotiate with the city fathers. But the latter consistently

refused to engage in good-faith negotiation.

Then, last September, came the opportunity to talk with leaders of Birmingham's

economic community. In the course of the negotiations, certain promises were

made by the merchants --- for example, to remove the stores humiliating racial

signs. On the basis of these promises, the Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth and the

leaders of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights agreed to a

moratorium on all demonstrations. As the weeks and months went by, we realized

that we were the victims of a broken promise. A few signs, briefly removed,

returned; the others remained.

As in so many past experiences, our hopes had been blasted, and the shadow of

deep disappointment settled upon us. We had no alternative except to prepare for

direct action, whereby we would present our very bodies as a means of laying our

case before the conscience of the local and the national community. Mindful of

the difficulties involved, we decided to undertake a process of

self-purification. We began a series of workshops on nonviolence, and we

repeatedly asked ourselves : "Are you able to accept blows without retaliating?"

"Are you able to endure the ordeal of jail?" We decided to schedule our

direct-action program for the Easter season, realizing that except for

Christmas, this is the main shopping period of the year. Knowing that a strong

economic withdrawal program would be the by-product of direct action, we felt

that this would be the best time to bring pressure to bear on the merchants for

the needed change.

Then it occurred to us that Birmingham's mayoralty election was coming up in

March, and we speedily decided to postpone action until after election day. When

we discovered that the Commissioner of Public Safety, Eugene "Bull" Connor, had

piled up enough votes to be in the run-off we decided again to postpone action

until the day after the run-off so that the demonstrations could not be used to

cloud the issues. Like many others, we waited to see Mr. Connor defeated, and to

this end we endured postponement after postponement. Having aided in this

community need, we felt that our direct-action program could be delayed no

longer.

You may well ask: "Why direct action? Why sit-ins, marches and so forth? Isn't

negotiation a better path?" You are quite right in calling, for negotiation.

Indeed, this is the very purpose of direct action. Nonviolent direct action

seeks to create such a crisis and foster such a tension that a community which

has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks to

so dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored. My citing the creation

of tension as part of the work of the nonviolent-resister may sound rather

shocking. But I must confess that I am not afraid of the word "tension." I have

earnestly opposed violent tension, but there is a type of constructive,

nonviolent tension which is necessary for growth. Just as Socrates felt that it

was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise

from the bondage of myths and half-truths to the unfettered realm of creative

analysis and objective appraisal, we must we see the need for nonviolent

gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from

the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding

and brotherhood.

The purpose of our direct-action program is to create a situation so

crisis-packed that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation. I therefore

concur with you in your call for negotiation. Too long has our beloved Southland

been bogged down in a tragic effort to live in monologue rather than dialogue.

One of the basic points in your statement is that the action that I and my

associates have taken .in Birmingham is untimely. Some have asked: "Why didn't

you give the new city administration time to act?" The only answer that I can

give to this query is that the new Birmingham administration must be prodded

about as much as the outgoing one, before it will act. We are sadly mistaken if

we feel that the election of Albert Boutwell as mayor. will bring the millennium

to Birmingham. While Mr. Boutwell is a much more gentle person than Mr. Connor,

they are both segregationists, dedicated to maintenance of the status quo. I

have hope that Mr. Boutwell will be reasonable enough to see the futility of

massive resistance to desegregation. But he will not see this without pressure

from devotees of civil rights. My friends, I must say to you that we have not

made a single gain civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent

pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom

give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and

voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded

us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.

We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by

the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to

engage in a direct-action campaign that was "well timed" in the view of those

who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I

have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing

familiarity. This "Wait" has almost always meant "Never." We must come to see,

with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed is justice

denied."

We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God-given

rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward

gaining political independence, but we stiff creep at horse-and-buggy pace

toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those

who have never felt the stinging dark of segregation to say, "Wait." But when

you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your

sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse,

kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast

majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of

poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue

twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six-year-old

daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been

advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told

that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of

inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to

distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white

people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five-year-old son who is

asking: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you

take a cross-country drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in

the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you;

when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and

"colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your middle name becomes "boy"

(however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and your wife and

mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day

and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at

tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with

inner fears and outer resentments; when you go forever fighting a degenerating

sense of "nobodiness" then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait.

There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer

willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can

understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience.

You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is

certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the

Supreme Court's decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at

first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws.

One may want to ask: "How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying

others?" The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and

unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a

legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral

responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that "an

unjust law is no law at all"

Now, what is the difference between the two? How does one determine whether a

law is just or unjust? A just law is a man-made code that squares with the moral

law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the

moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a

human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law. Any law that

uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is

unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the

soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of

superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. Segregation, to use

the terminology of the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, substitutes an "I-it"

relationship for an "I-thou" relationship and ends up relegating persons to the

status of things. Hence segregation is not only politically, economically and

sociologically unsound, it is morally wrong and awful. Paul Tillich said that

sin is separation. Is not segregation an existential expression 'of man's tragic

separation, his awful estrangement, his terrible sinfulness? Thus it is that I

can urge men to obey the 1954 decision of the Supreme Court, for it is morally

right; and I can urge them to disobey segregation ordinances, for they are

morally wrong.

Let us consider a more concrete example of just and unjust laws. An unjust law

is a code that a numerical or power majority group compels a minority group to

obey but does not make binding on itself. This is difference made legal. By the

same token, a just law is a code that a majority compels a minority to follow

and that it is willing to follow itself. This is sameness made legal.

Let me give another explanation. A law is unjust if it is inflicted on a

minority that, as a result of being denied the right to vote, had no part in

enacting or devising the law. Who can say that the legislature of Alabama which

set up that state's segregation laws was democratically elected? Throughout

Alabama all sorts of devious methods are used to prevent Negroes from becoming

registered voters, and there are some counties in which, even though Negroes

constitute a majority of the population, not a single Negro is registered. Can

any law enacted under such circumstances be considered democratically

structured?

Sometimes a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance,

I have been arrested on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is

nothing wrong in having an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade. But

such an ordinance becomes unjust when it is used to maintain segregation and to

deny citizens the First Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and protest.

I hope you are able to ace the distinction I am trying to point out. In no sense

do I advocate evading or defying the law, as would the rabid segregationist.

That would lead to anarchy. One who breaks an unjust law must do so openly,

lovingly, and with a willingness to accept the penalty. I submit that an

individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust and who

willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience

of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest

respect for law.

Of course, there is nothing new about this kind of civil disobedience. It was

evidenced sublimely in the refusal of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego to obey the

laws of Nebuchadnezzar, on the ground that a higher moral law was at stake. It

was practiced superbly by the early Christians, who were willing to face hungry

lions and the excruciating pain of chopping blocks rather than submit to certain

unjust laws of the Roman Empire. To a degree, academic freedom is a reality

today because Socrates practiced civil disobedience. In our own nation, the

Boston Tea Party represented a massive act of civil disobedience.

We should never forget that everything Adolf Hitler did in Germany was "legal"

and everything the Hungarian freedom fighters did in Hungary was "illegal." It

was "illegal" to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler's Germany. Even so, I am sure

that, had I lived in Germany at the time, I would have aided and comforted my

Jewish brothers. If today I lived in a Communist country where certain

principles dear to the Christian faith are suppressed, I would openly advocate

disobeying that country's antireligious laws.

I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers.

First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely

disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable

conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom

is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white

moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative

peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence

of justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I

cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes

he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical

concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more

convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more

frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm

acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist

for the purpose of establishing justice and that when they fan in this purpose

they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social

progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present

tension in the South is a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious

negative peace, in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a

substantive and positive peace, in which all men will respect the dignity and

worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action

are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden

tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen

and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up

but must be opened with an its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and

light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to

the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be

cured.

In your statement you assert that our actions, even though peaceful, must be

condemned because they precipitate violence. But is this a logical assertion?

Isn't this like condemning a robbed man because his possession of money

precipitated the evil act of robbery? Isn't this like condemning Socrates

because his unswerving commitment to truth and his philosophical inquiries

precipitated the act by the misguided populace in which they made him drink

hemlock? Isn't this like condemning Jesus because his unique God-consciousness

and never-ceasing devotion to God's will precipitated the evil act of

crucifixion? We must come to see that, as the federal courts have consistently

affirmed, it is wrong to urge an individual to cease his efforts to gain his

basic constitutional rights because the quest may precipitate violence. Society

must protect the robbed and punish the robber.

I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time

in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a

white brother in Texas. He writes: "All Christians know that the colored people

will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too

great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to

accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth."

Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely

rational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will

inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used

either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of

ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will.

We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and

actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people.

Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the

tireless efforts of men willing to be co-workers with God, and without this

'hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We

must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do

right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our

pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to

lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid

rock of human dignity.

You speak of our activity in Birmingham as extreme. At fist I was rather

disappointed that fellow clergymen would see my nonviolent efforts as those of

an extremist. I began thinking about the fact that stand in the middle of two

opposing forces in the Negro community. One is a force of complacency, made up

in part of Negroes who, as a result of long years of oppression, are so drained

of self-respect and a sense of "somebodiness" that they have adjusted to

segregation; and in part of a few middle class Negroes who, because of a degree

of academic and economic security and because in some ways they profit by

segregation, have become insensitive to the problems of the masses. The other

force is one of bitterness and hatred, and it comes perilously close to

advocating violence. It is expressed in the various black nationalist groups

that are springing up across the nation, the largest and best-known being Elijah

Muhammad's Muslim movement. Nourished by the Negro's frustration over the

continued existence of racial discrimination, this movement is made up of people

who have lost faith in America, who have absolutely repudiated Christianity, and

who have concluded that the white man is an incorrigible "devil."

I have tried to stand between these two forces, saying that we need emulate

neither the "do-nothingism" of the complacent nor the hatred and despair of the

black nationalist. For there is the more excellent way of love and nonviolent

protest. I am grateful to God that, through the influence of the Negro church,

the way of nonviolence became an integral part of our struggle.

If this philosophy had not emerged, by now many streets of the South would, I am

convinced, be flowing with blood. And I am further convinced that if our white

brothers dismiss as "rabble-rousers" and "outside agitators" those of us who

employ nonviolent direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent

efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace

and security in black-nationalist ideologies a development that would inevitably

lead to a frightening racial nightmare.

Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom

eventually manifests itself, and that is what has happened to the American

Negro. Something within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom, and

something without has reminded him that it can be gained. Consciously or

unconsciously, he has been caught up by the Zeitgeist, and with his black

brothers of Africa and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, South America and

the Caribbean, the United States Negro is moving with a sense of great urgency

toward the promised land of racial justice. If one recognizes this vital urge

that has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand why public

demonstrations are taking place. The Negro has many pent-up resentments and

latent frustrations, and he must release them. So let him march; let him make

prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; let him go on freedom rides--and try to

understand why he must do so. If his repressed emotions are not released in

nonviolent ways, they will seek expression through violence; this is not a

threat but a fact of history. So I have not said to my people: "Get rid of your

discontent." Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent

can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now

this approach is being termed extremist.

But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as

I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of

satisfaction from the label. Was not Jesus an extremist for love: "Love your

enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for

them which despitefully use you, and persecute you." Was not Amos an extremist

for justice: "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an

ever-flowing stream." Was not Paul an extremist for the Christian gospel: "I

bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." Was not Martin Luther an

extremist: "Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise, so help me God." And John

Bunyan: "I will stay in jail to the end of my days before I make a butchery of

my conscience." And Abraham Lincoln: "This nation cannot survive half slave and

half free." And Thomas Jefferson: "We hold these truths to be self-evident, that

all men are created equal ..." So the question is not whether we will be

extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for

hate or for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice or for

the extension of justice? In that dramatic scene on Calvary's hill three men

were crucified. We must never forget that all three were crucified for the same

crime---the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thus

fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for

love, truth and goodness, and thereby rose above his environment. Perhaps the

South, the nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists.

I had hoped that the white moderate would see this need. Perhaps I was too

optimistic; perhaps I expected too much. I suppose I should have realized that

few members of the oppressor race can understand the deep groans and passionate

yearnings of the oppressed race, and still fewer have the vision to see that

injustice must be rooted out by strong, persistent and determined action. I am

thankful, however, that some of our white brothers in the South have grasped the

meaning of this social revolution and committed themselves to it. They are still

too few in quantity, but they are big in quality. Some---such as Ralph McGill,

Lillian Smith, Harry Golden, James McBride Dabbs, Ann Braden and Sarah Patton

Boyle---have written about our struggle in eloquent and prophetic terms. Others

have marched with us down nameless streets of the South. They have languished in

filthy, roach-infested jails, suffering the abuse and brutality of policemen who

view them as "dirty nigger lovers." Unlike so many of their moderate brothers

and sisters, they have recognized the urgency of the moment and sensed the need

for powerful "action" antidotes to combat the disease of segregation.

Let me take note of my other major disappointment. I have been so greatly

disappointed with the white church and its leadership. Of course, there are some

notable exceptions. I am not unmindful of the fact that each of you has taken

some significant stands on this issue. I commend you, Reverend Stallings, for

your Christian stand on this past Sunday, in welcoming Negroes to your worship

service on a non segregated basis. I commend the Catholic leaders of this state

for integrating Spring Hill College several years ago.

But despite these notable exceptions, I must honestly reiterate that I have been

disappointed with the church. I do not say this as one of those negative

.critics who can always find. something wrong with the church. I say this as a

minister of the gospel, who loves the church; who was nurtured in its bosom; who

has been sustained by its spiritual blessings and who will remain true to it as

long as the cord of Rio shall lengthen.

When I was suddenly catapulted into the leadership of the bus protest in

Montgomery, Alabama, a few years ago, I felt we would be supported by the white

church felt that the white ministers, priests and rabbis of the South would be

among our strongest allies. Instead, some have been outright opponents, refusing

to understand the freedom movement and misrepresenting its leader era; an too

many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent

behind the anesthetizing security of stained-glass windows.

In spite of my shattered dreams, I came to Birmingham with the hope that the

white religious leadership of this community would see the justice of our cause

and, with deep moral concern, would serve as the channel through which our just

grievances could reach the power structure. I had hoped that each of you would

understand. But again I have been disappointed.

I have heard numerous southern religious leaders admonish their worshipers to

comply with a desegregation decision because it is the law, but I have longed to

hear white ministers declare: "Follow this decree because integration is morally

right and because the Negro is your brother." In the midst of blatant injustices

inflicted upon the Negro, I have watched white churchmen stand on the sideline

and mouth pious. irrelevancies and sanctimonious trivialities. In the midst of a

mighty struggle to rid our nation of racial and economic injustice, I have heard

many ministers say: "Those are social issues, with which the gospel has no real

concern." And I have watched many churches commit themselves to a completely

other worldly religion which makes a strange, on Biblical distinction between

body and soul, between the sacred and the secular.

I have traveled the length and breadth of Alabama, Mississippi and all the other

southern states. On sweltering summer days and crisp autumn mornings I have

looked at the South's beautiful churches with their lofty spires pointing

heavenward. I have beheld the impressive outlines of her massive

religious-education buildings. Over and over I have found myself asking: "What

kind of people worship here? Who is their God? Where were their voices when the

lips of Governor Barnett dripped with words of interposition and nullification?

Where were they when Governor Wallace gave a clarion call for defiance and

hatred? Where were their voices of support when bruised and weary Negro men and

women decided to rise from the dark dungeons of complacency to the bright hills

of creative protest?"

Yes, these questions are still in my mind. In deep disappointment I have wept

over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of

love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I

love the church. How could I do otherwise? l am in the rather unique position of

being the son, the grandson and the great-grandson of preachers. Yes, I see the

church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that

body through social neglect and through fear of being nonconformists.

There was a time when the church was very powerful in the time when the early

Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In

those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and

principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of

society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power

became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being

"disturbers of the peace" and "outside agitators"' But the Christians pressed

on, in the conviction that they were "a colony of heaven," called to obey God

rather than man. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God

intoxicated to be "astronomically intimidated." By their effort and example they

brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide. and gladiatorial contests.

Things are different now. So often the contemporary church is a weak,

ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the

status quo. Par from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power

structure of the average community is consoled by the church's silent and often

even vocal sanction of things as they are.

But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If today's church

does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it vi lose its

authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant

social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. Every day I meet young

people whose disappointment with the church has turned into outright disgust.

Perhaps I have once again been too optimistic. Is organized religion too

inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world? Perhaps I

must turn my faith to the inner spiritual church, the church within the church,

as the true ecclesia and the hope of the world. But again I am thankful to God

that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose

from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the

struggle for freedom, They have left their secure congregations and walked the

streets of Albany, Georgia, with us. They have gone down the highways of the

South on tortuous rides for freedom. Yes, they have gone to jai with us. Some

have been dismissed from their churches, have lost the support of their bishops

and fellow ministers. But they have acted in the faith that right defeated is

stronger than evil triumphant. Their witness has been the spiritual salt that

has preserved the true meaning of the gospel in these troubled times. They have

carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment.

I hope the church as a whole will meet the challenge of this decisive hour. But

even if the church does not come to the aid of justice, I have no despair about

the future. I have no fear about the outcome of our struggle in Birmingham, even

if our motives are at present misunderstood. We will reach the goal of freedom

in Birmingham, ham and all over the nation, because the goal of America k

freedom. Abused and scorned though we may be, our destiny is tied up with

America's destiny. Before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth, we were here. Before

the pen of Jefferson etched the majestic words of the Declaration of

Independence across the pages of history, we were here. For more than two

centuries our forebears labored in this country without wages; they made cotton

king; they built the homes of their masters while suffering gross injustice and

shameful humiliation-and yet out of a bottomless vitality they continued to

thrive and develop. If the inexpressible cruelties of slavery could not stop us,

the opposition we now face will surely fail. We will win our freedom because the

sacred heritage of our nation and the eternal will of God are embodied in our

echoing demands.

Before closing I feel impelled to mention one other point in your statement that

has troubled me profoundly. You warmly commended the Birmingham police force for

keeping "order" and "preventing violence." I doubt that you would have so warmly

commended the police force if you had seen its dogs sinking their teeth into

unarmed, nonviolent Negroes. I doubt that you would so quickly commend the

policemen if you were to observe their ugly and inhumane treatment of Negroes

here in the city jail; if you were to watch them push and curse old Negro women

and young Negro girls; if you were to see them slap and kick old Negro men and

young boys; if you were to observe them, as they did on two occasions, refuse to

give us food because we wanted to sing our grace together. I cannot join you in

your praise of the Birmingham police department.

It is true that the police have exercised a degree of discipline in handing the

demonstrators. In this sense they have conducted themselves rather

"nonviolently" in public. But for what purpose? To preserve the evil system of

segregation. Over the past few years I have consistently preached that

nonviolence demands that the means we use must be as pure as the ends we seek. I

have tried to make clear that it is wrong to use immoral means to attain moral

ends. But now I must affirm that it is just as wrong, or perhaps even more so,

to use moral means to preserve immoral ends. Perhaps Mr. Connor and his

policemen have been rather nonviolent in public, as was Chief Pritchett in

Albany, Georgia but they have used the moral means of nonviolence to maintain

the immoral end of racial injustice. As T. S. Eliot has said: "The last

temptation is the greatest treason: To do the right deed for the wrong reason."

I wish you had commended the Negro sit-inners and demonstrators of Birmingham

for their sublime courage, their willingness to suffer and their amazing

discipline in the midst of great provocation. One day the South will recognize

its real heroes. There will be the James Merediths, with the noble sense of

purpose that enables them to face jeering and hostile mobs, and with the

agonizing loneliness that characterizes the life of the pioneer. There will be

the old, oppressed, battered Negro women, symbolized in a seventy-two-year-old

woman in Montgomery, Alabama, who rose up with a sense of dignity and with her

people decided not to ride segregated buses, and who responded with

ungrammatical profundity to one who inquired about her weariness: "My feets is

tired, but my soul is at rest." There will be the young high school and college

students, the young ministers of the gospel and a host of their elders,

courageously and nonviolently sitting in at lunch counters and willingly going

to jail for conscience' sake. One day the South will know that when these

disinherited children of God sat down at lunch counters, they were in reality

standing up for what is best in the American dream and for the most sacred

values in our Judaeo-Christian heritage, thereby bringing our nation back to

those great wells of democracy which were dug deep by the founding fathers in

their formulation of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.

Never before have I written so long a letter. I'm afraid it is much too long to

take your precious time. I can assure you that it would have been much shorter

if I had been writing from a comfortable desk, but what else can one do when he

is alone in a narrow jail cell, other than write long letters, think long

thoughts and pray long prayers?

If I have said anything in this letter that overstates the truth and indicates

an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything

that understates the truth and indicates my having a patience that allows me to

settle for anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me.

I hope this letter finds you strong in the faith. I also hope that circumstances

will soon make it possible for me to meet each of you, not as an integrationist

or a civil rights leader but as a fellow clergyman and a Christian brother. Let

us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the

deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities,

and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood

will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty.

Yours for the cause of Peace and Brotherhood,

Martin Luther King, Jr.