LETTER FROM BIRMINGHAM JAIL    16 April 1963

 

My Dear Fellow Clergymen,

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

statement calling our present activities “unwise and untimely.” Seldom, if ev

er, do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answe

r all of the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would be engaged

in little else in the course of the day, and I would have no time for construct

ive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine good will and your cr

iticisms are sincerely set forth, I would like to answer your statement in wh

at I hope will be patient and reasonable terms. ¶ I think I should give the rea

son for my being in Birmingham, since you have been influenced by the ar

gument of “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 affiliate organizations all across the South, one being the Alabam

a Christian Movement for Human Rights. Whenever necessary and possibl

e, we share staff, educational and financial resources with our affiliates. Sev

eral months ago our local affiliate here in Birmingham invited us to be on ca

ll to engage in a nonviolent direct-action program if such were deemed nec

essary. We readily consented, and when the hour came we lived up to ou

r promises. So I am here, along with several members of my staff, beca

use we were invited here. I am here because I have basic organization

al ties here. ¶ Beyond this, I am in Birmingham because injustice is he

re. Just as the eighth-century prophets left their little villages and ca

rried their “thus saith the Lord” far beyond the boundaries of their ho

metowns; and just as the Apostle Paul left his little village of Tarsus

and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to practically every hamlet and

city of the Greco-Roman world, I too am compelled to carry the gospel

of freedom beyond my particular hometown. Like Paul, I must constan

tly 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. Injus

tice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inesc

apable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatev

er affects one directly affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to

live with the narrow, provincial “outside agitator” idea. Anyone who lives in

side the United States can never be considered an outsider. ¶ You deplore

the demonstrations that are presently taking place in Birmingham. But I am

sorry that your statement did not express a similar concern for the condi

tions that brought the demonstrations into being. I am sure that each of yo

u would want to go beyond the superficial social analyst who looks merel

y at effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. I would not hesi

tate to say that it is unfortunate that so-called demonstrations are taking pl

ace in Birmingham at this time, but I would say in more emphatic terms tha

t it is even more unfortunate that the white power structure of this city lef

t the Negro community with no other alternative. ¶ In any nonviolent camp

aign there are four basic steps: collection of the facts to determine whethe

r injustices are alive, negotiation, self-purification, and direct action. We hav

e gone through all of these steps in Birmingham. There can be no gainsayi

ng of the fact that racial injustice engulfs this community. Birmingham is

probably the most thoroughly segregated city in the United States. Its ugly

record of police brutality is known in every section of this country. Its unjus

t treatment of Negroes in the courts is a notorious reality. There have been

more unsolved bombings of Negro homes and churches in Birmingham th

an in any other city in this nation. These are the hard, brutal, and unbeliev

able facts. On the basis of them, Negro leaders sought to negotiate with th

e city fathers. But the political leaders consistently refused to engage in go

od-faith negotiation. ¶ Then came the opportunity last September to talk wi

th some of the leaders of the economic community. In these negotiating se

ssions certain promises were made by the merchants, such as the promise

to remove the humiliating racial signs from the stores. On the basis of these

promises, Reverend Shuttlesworth and the leaders of the Alabama Christi

an Movement for Human Rights agreed to call a moratorium on any type of

demonstration. As the weeks and months unfolded, we realized that we we

re the victims of a broken promise. The signs remained. As in so many expe

riences of the past, we were confronted with blasted hopes, and the dark

shadow of a deep disappointment settled upon us. So we had no alternati

ve except that of preparing for direct action, whereby we would present ou

r very bodies as a means of laying our case before the conscience of the loc

al and national community. We were not unmindful of the difficulties inv

olved. So we decided to go through a process of self-purification. ¶ We st

arted having workshops on nonviolence and repeatedly asked ourselves

the questions, “Are you able to accept blows without retaliating?” and “Ar

e you able to endure the ordeals of jail?” We decided to set our direct-act

ion program around the Easter season, realizing that, with exception of Ch

ristmas, this was the largest shopping period of the year. Knowing that a st

rong economic withdrawal program would be the by-product of direct acti

on, we felt that this was the best time to bring pressure on the merchants fo

r the needed changes. Then it occurred to us that the March election was ah

ead, and so we speedily decided to postpone action until after election day.

When we discovered that Mr. Conner was in the runoff, we decided again to

postpone action so that the demonstration could not be used to cloud the is

sues. At this time we agreed to begin our nonviolent witness the day after th

e runoff. ¶ This reveals that we did not move irresponsibly into direct action.

We, too, wanted to see Mr. Conner defeated, so we went through postponem

ent after postponement to aid in this community need. After this we felt tha

t direct action 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 exactly right in your call for negotiation. Indeed, this is the purpose

of direct action. Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and es

tablish such creative tension that a community that has consistently refuse

d to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks so to dramatize the is

sue that it can no longer be ignored. I just referred to the creation of tension

as a part of the work of the nonviolent resister. This may sound rather shoc

king. But I must confess that I am not afraid of the word “tension.” I have ea

rnestly worked and preached against violent tension, but there is a type of

constructive nonviolent tension that is necessary for growth. Just as Socr

ates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that indiv

iduals could rise from the bondage of myths and half-truths to the unfet

tered realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, we must see the

need of having nonviolent gadflies to create the kind of tension in soc

iety that will help men to rise from the dark depths of prejudice and

racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood. So

, the purpose of direct action is to create a situation so crisis-packed

that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation. We therefore con

cur with you in your call for negotiation. Too long has our beloved So

uthland been bogged down in the tragic attempt to live in monologue

rather than dialogue. ¶ One of the basic points in your statement is th

at our acts are untimely. Some have asked, “Why didn’t you give the ne

w administration time to act?” The only answer that I can give to this

inquiry is that the new administration must be prodded about as muc

h as the outgoing one before it acts. We will be sadly mistaken if we

feel that the election of Mr. Boutwell will bring the millennium to Bi

rmingham. While Mr. Boutwell is much more articulate and gentle th

an Mr. Conner, they are both segregationists, dedicated to the task of

maintaining the status quo. The hope I see in Mr. Boutwell is that he

will be reasonable enough to see the futility of massive resistance to

desegregation. But he will not see this without pressure from the dev

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

de a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pres

sure. History is the long and tragic story of the fact that privileged groups se

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

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

minded us, groups are 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 never yet engaged

in a direct-action movement that was “well timed” according to the timetab

le 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 Neg

ro with a piercing familiarity. This “wait” has almost always meant “never

.” It has been a tranquilizing thalidomide, relieving the emotional stress

for a moment, only to give birth to an ill-formed infant of frustration. We

must come to see with the distinguished jurist of yesterday that “just

ice too long delayed is justice denied.” We have waited for more than

three hundred and forty years for our God-given and constitutional ri

ghts. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed tow

ard the goal of political independence, and we still creep at horse-and

-buggy pace toward the gaining of a cup of coffee at a lunch counter

. I guess it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of

segregation to say “wait.” But when you have seen vicious mobs lync

h your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and broth

ers at whim; when you have seen hate-filled policemen curse, kick,

brutalize, and even kill your black brothers and sisters with impunit

y; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brot

hers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affl

uent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your

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

hter why she cannot go to the public amusement park that has just be

en advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her little eyes

when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see the

depressing clouds of inferiority begin to form in her little mental sky, and

see her begin to distort her little personality by unconsciously developi

ng a bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answe

r for a five-year-old son asking in agonizing pathos, “Daddy, why do whi

te people treat colored people so mean?”; when you take a cross-count

ry drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfor

table corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when

you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading “white” an

d “colored”; when your first name becomes “nigger” and your middle name

becomes “boy” (however old you are) and your last name becomes “John

,” and when 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 ar

e a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never knowing what to expect

next, and plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are

forever fighting a degenerating sense of “nobodyness”—then you will und

erstand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cu

p of endurance runs over and men are no longer willing to be plunged

into an abyss of injustice where they experience the bleakness of cor

roding despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and una

voidable impatience. ¶ You express a great deal of anxiety over our wi

llingness 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, it is rather strange

and paradoxical to find us consciously breaking laws. One may well as

k, “How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?”

The answer is found in the fact that there are two types of laws: ther

e are just laws, and there are unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augus

tine that “An unjust law is no law at all.” ¶ Now, what is the difference

between the two? How does one determine when a law is just or unjus

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

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

ral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas, an unjust law is a hu

man law that is not rooted in eternal and natural law. Any law that uplif

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

is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distort

s the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false se

nse of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. To use

the words of Martin Buber, the great Jewish philosopher, segregation su

bstitutes an “I - it” relationship for the “I - thou” relationship and ends up

relegating persons to the status of things. So segregation is not only pol

itically, economically, and sociologically unsound, but it is morally wrong

and sinful. Paul Tillich has said that sin is separation. Isn’t segregation an

existential expression of man’s tragic separation, an expression of his awf

ul estrangement, his terrible sinfulness? So I can urge men to obey the 19

54 decision of the Supreme Court because it is morally right, and I can urg

e them to disobey segregation ordinances because they are morally wron

g. ¶ Let us turn to a more concrete example of just and unjust laws. An un

just law is a code that a majority inflicts on a minority that is not binding on

itself. This is difference made legal. On the other hand, 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. An

unjust law is a code inflicted upon a minority which that minority had no pa

rt in enacting or creating because it did not have the unhampered right to

vote. Who can say that the legislature of Alabama which set up the segrega

tion laws was democratically elected? Throughout the state of Alabama al

l types of conniving methods are used to prevent Negroes from becoming

registered voters, and there are some counties without a single Negro regi

stered to vote, despite the fact that the Negroes constitute a majority of the

population. Can any law set up in such a state be considered democratical

ly structured? ¶ These are just a few examples of unjust and just laws. The

re are some instances when a law is just on its face and unjust in its applica

tion. For instance, I was arrested Friday on a charge of parading without a pe

rmit. Now, there is nothing wrong with an ordinance which requires a permi

t for a parade, but when the ordinance is used to preserve segregation and

to deny citizens the First Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and pe

aceful protest, then it becomes unjust. ¶ Of course, there is nothing new ab

out this kind of civil disobedience. It was seen sublimely in the refusal of Sha

drach, Meshach, and Abednego to obey the laws of Nebuchadnezzar becaus

e a higher moral law was involved. It was practiced superbly by the early Chr

istians, who were willing to face hungry lions and the excruciating pain of cho

pping blocks before submitting to certain unjust laws of the Roman Empire.

To a degree, academic freedom is a reality today because Socrates practiced

civil disobedience. ¶ We can never forget that everything Hitler did in Germ

any was “legal” and everything the Hungarian freedom fighters did in Hun

gary was “illegal.” It was “illegal” to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler’s Germ

any. But I am sure that if I had lived in Germany during that time, I woul

d have aided and comforted my Jewish brothers even though it was il

legal. If I lived in a Communist country today where certain principles

dear to the Christian faith are suppressed, I believe I would openly ad

vocate disobeying these anti-religious laws. ¶ I must make two hone

st confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I mus

t confess that over the last few years I have been gravely disappoint

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

conclusion that the Negro’s great stumbling block in the stride towa

rd freedom is not the White Citizens Councillor or the Ku Klux Klann

er but the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to jus

tice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to

a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly say

s, “I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can’t agree with your me

thods of direct action”; who paternalistically feels that he can set the timet

able for another man’s freedom; who lives by the myth of time; and who co

nstantly advises the Negro to wait until a “more convenient season.” Shallow

understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute mi

sunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much mor

e bewildering than outright rejection. ¶ In your statement you asserted tha

t our actions, even though peaceful, must be condemned because they pre

cipitate violence. But can this assertion be logically made? Isn’t this like co

ndemning the robbed man because his possession of money precipitate

d the evil act of robbery? Isn’t this like condemning Socrates because hi

s unswerving commitment to truth and his philosophical delvings preci

pitated the misguided popular mind to make him drink the hemlock? Is

n’t this like condemning Jesus because His unique God-consciousness

and never-ceasing devotion to His will precipitated the evil act of cruci

fixion? We must come to see, as federal courts have consistently affirm

ed, that it is immoral to urge an individual to withdraw his efforts to ga

in his basic constitutional rights because the quest precipitates violen

ce. Society must protect the robbed and punish the robber. ¶ I had al

so hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth of time. I re

ceived a letter this morning from a white brother in Texas which said

, “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal right

s eventually, but is it possible that you are in too great of a religious

hurry? It has taken Christianity almost 2000 years to accomplish wh

at it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.” All that

is said here grows out of a tragic misconception of time. It is the stran

gely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time

that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time is neutral. It can be used

either destructively or constructively. I am coming to feel that the pe

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

of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for

the vitriolic words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling

silence of the good people. We must come to see that human progress

never rolls in on wheels of inevitability. It comes through the tireless effo

rts and persistent work of men willing to be coworkers with God, and with

out this hard work time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagna

tion. ¶ You spoke of our activity in Birmingham as extreme. At first I was ra

ther disappointed that fellow clergymen would see my nonviolent efforts as

those of an extremist. I started thinking about the fact that I stand in the midd

le of two opposing forces in the Negro community. One is a force of complace

ncy made up of Negroes who, as a result of long years of oppression, have be

en so completely drained of self-respect and a sense of “somebodyness” tha

t they have adjusted to segregation, and, on the other hand, of a few Negroes

in the middle class who, because of a degree of academic and economic secu

rity and because at points they profit by segregation, have unconsciously bec

ome insensitive to the problems of the masses. The other force is one of bi

tterness and hatred and comes perilously close to advocating violence. It is

expressed in the various black nationalist groups that are springing up ov

er the nation, the largest and best known being Elijah Muhammad’s Musl

im movement. This movement is nourished by the contemporary frustr

ation over the continued existence of racial discrimination. It is made up

of people who have lost faith in America, who have absolutely repudiat

ed Christianity, and who have concluded that the white man is an incu

rable devil. I have tried to stand between these two forces, saying that

we need not follow the do-nothingism of the complacent or the hatred

and despair of the black nationalist. There is a more excellent way, of lo

ve and nonviolent protest. I’m grateful to God that, through the Negro ch

urch, the dimension of nonviolence entered our struggle. If this philosoph

y had not emerged, I am convinced that by now many streets of the South

would be flowing with floods of blood. And I am further convinced that if ou

r white brothers dismiss as “rabble-rousers” and “outside agitators” those of

us who are working through the channels of nonviolent direct action and re

fuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes, out of frustration

and despair, will seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies, a de

velopment that will lead inevitably to a frightening racial nightmare. ¶ Oppre

ssed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The urge for freedom will ev

entually come. This is what has happened to the American Negro. Somet

hing within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom; something wi

thout has reminded him that he can gain it. Consciously and unconscious

ly, he has been swept in by what the Germans call the Zeitgeist, and with

his black brothers of Africa and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, Sou

th America, and the Caribbean, he is moving with a sense of cosmic urgenc

y toward the promised land of racial justice. Recognizing this vital urge that

has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand public de

monstrations. The Negro has many pent-up resentments and latent frustrat

ions. He has to get them out. So let him march sometime; let him have his

prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; understand why he must have sitins an

d freedom rides. If his repressed emotions do not come out in these nonv

iolent ways, they will come out in ominous expressions of violence. This is

not a threat; it is a fact of history. So I have not said to my people, “Get rid of

your discontent.” But I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discon

tent can be channeled through the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action

. Now this approach is being dismissed as extremist. I must admit that I was

initially disappointed in being so categorized. ¶ But as I continued to think ab

out the matter, I gradually gained a bit of satisfaction from being considered

an extremist. Was not Jesus an extremist in love?—”Love your enemies, bles

s them that curse you, pray for them that despitefully use you.” Was not Amo

s an extremist for justice?—”Let justice roll down like waters and righteousne

ss like a mighty stream.” Was not Paul an extremist for the gospel of Jesus Ch

rist?—”I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.” Was not Martin Luthe

r an extremist?—”Here I stand; I can do no other so help me God.” Was not Jo

hn Bunyan an extremist?—”I will stay in jail to the end of my days before I ma

ke a mockery of my conscience.” Was not Abraham Lincoln an extremist?—”

This nation cannot survive half slave and half free.” Was not Thomas Jeffers

on an extremist?—”We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are

created equal.” So the question is not whether we will be extremist, but wha

t kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate, or will we be ex

tremists for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice, or wi

ll we be extremists for the cause of justice? ¶ I had hoped that the white mo

derate would see this. Maybe I was too optimistic. Maybe I expected too muc

h. I guess I should have realized that few members of a race that has oppres

sed another race can understand or appreciate the deep groans and passion

ate yearnings of those that have been oppressed, and still fewer have the vi

sion to see that injustice must be rooted out by strong, persistent, and determ

ined action. I am thankful, however, that some of our white brothers have gr

asped the meaning of this social revolution and committed themselves to it.

They are still all too small in quantity, but they are big in quality. Some, like Ra

lph McGill, Lillian Smith, Harry Golden, and James Dabbs, have written about

our struggle in eloquent, prophetic, and understanding terms. Others have ma

rched with us down nameless streets of the South. They sat in with us at lunc

h counters and rode in with us on the freedom rides. They have languished in

filthy roach-infested jails, suffering the abuse and brutality of angry policeme

n who see them as “dirty nigger lovers.” They, unlike many of their moderate

brothers, have recognized the urgency of the moment and sensed the need

for powerful “action” antidotes to combat the disease of segregation. ¶ Let

me rush on to mention my other disappointment. I have been disappointed

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

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

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

ur Christian stand this past Sunday in welcoming Negroes to your Baptist

Church worship service on a nonsegregated basis. I commend the Cathol

ic leaders of this state for integrating Springhill College several years ago. ¶ B

ut despite these notable exceptions, I must honestly reiterate that I have be

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

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

nister 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 life shall lengthen. ¶ I had the strange feeling wh

en I was suddenly catapulted into the leadership of the bus protest in Mont

gomery several years ago that we would have the support of the white chu

rch. I felt that the white ministers, priests, and rabbis of the South would be

some of our strongest allies. Instead, some few have been outright oppone

nts, refusing to understand the freedom movement and misrepresenting it

s leaders; all too many others have been more cautious than courageous an

d have remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained-glass wi

ndows. ¶ In spite of my shattered dreams of the past, 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 serve as the chan

nel through which our just grievances could get to the power structure. I ha

d hoped that each of you would understand. But again I have been disappo

inted. ¶ I have heard numerous religious leaders of the South call upon the

ir worshipers to comply with a desegregation decision because it is the law,

but I have longed to hear white ministers say, follow this decree because in

tegration is morally right and the Negro is your brother. In the midst of blat

ant injustices inflicted upon the Negro, I have watched white churches stan

d on the sidelines and merely mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious

trivialities. In the midst of a mighty struggle to rid our nation of racial and ec

onomic injustice, I have heard so many ministers say, “Those are social issu

es which the gospel has nothing to do with,” and I have watched so many ch

urches commit themselves to a completely otherworldly religion which ma

de a strange distinction between bodies and souls, the sacred and the secu

lar. ¶ There was a time when the church was very powerful. It was during

that period that the early Christians rejoiced when they were deemed wor

thy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not mer

ely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opini

on; it was the thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Wherever

the early Christians entered a town the power structure got disturbed and

immediately sought to convict them for being “disturbers of the peace” an

d “outside agitators.” But they went on with the conviction that they were

“a colony of heaven” and had to obey God rather than man. They were sma

ll in number but big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be “a

stronomically intimidated.” They brought an end to such ancient evils as inf

anticide and gladiatorial contest. ¶ Things are different now. The contempo

rary church is so often a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. It

is so often the arch supporter of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by

the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community

is consoled by the church’s often vocal sanction of things as they are. ¶ But

the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If the church of to

day does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose it

s authentic ring, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelev

ant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. I meet young peo

ple every day whose disappointment with the church has risen to outright

disgust. ¶ I hope the church as a whole will meet the challenge of this decis

ive 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 presently misunderstood. We will re

ach the goal of freedom in Birmingham and all over the nation, because the

goal of America is freedom. Abused and scorned though we may be, our de

stiny is tied up with the destiny of America. Before the Pilgrims landed at Pl

ymouth, we were here. Before the pen of Jefferson scratched across the pa

ges of history the majestic word of the Declaration of Independence, we we

re here. For more than two centuries our foreparents labored here without

wages; they made cotton king; and they built the homes of their masters in

the midst of brutal injustice and shameful humiliation—and yet out of a bot

tomless vitality our people continue to thrive and develop. If the inexpressi

ble cruelties of slavery could not stop us, the opposition we now face will su

rely 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. ¶ I must

close now. But before closing I am impelled to mention one other point in

your statement that troubled me profoundly. You warmly commended the

Birmingham police force for keeping “order” and “preventing violence.” I do

n’t believe you would have so warmly commended the police force if you ha

d seen its angry violent dogs literally biting six unarmed, nonviolent Negroe

s. I don’t believe you would so quickly commend the policemen if you woul

d observe their ugly and inhuman treatment of Negroes here in the city jail

; if you would watch them push and curse old Negro women and young Neg

ro girls; if you would see them slap and kick old Negro men and young boys

, if you would observe them, as they did on two occasions, refusing to give

us food because we wanted to sing our grace together. I’m sorry that I can’

t join you in your praise for the police department. ¶ It is true that they have

been rather disciplined in their public handling of the demonstrators. In thi

s sense they have been publicly “nonviolent.” But for what purpose? To pres

erve the evil system of segregation. Over the last few years I have consisten

tly preached that nonviolence demands that the means we use must be as

pure as the ends we seek. So I have tried to make it clear that it is wrong to

use immoral means to attain moral ends. But now I must affirm that it is ju

st as wrong, or even more, to use moral means to preserve immoral ends.

¶ I wish you had commended the Negro demonstrators of Birmingham fo

r their sublime courage, their willingness to suffer, and their amazing disc

ipline in the midst of the most inhuman provocation. One day the South wi

ll recognize its real heroes. They will be the James Merediths, courageou

sly and with a majestic sense of purpose facing jeering and hostile mobs

and the agonizing loneliness that characterizes the life of the pioneer. Th

ey will be old, oppressed, battered Negro women, symbolized in a sevent

y-two-year-old woman of Montgomery, Alabama, who rose up with a sen

se of dignity and with her people decided not to ride the segregated buses

, and responded to one who inquired about her tiredness with ungrammati

cal profundity, “My feets is tired, but my soul is rested.” They will be young hi

gh school and college students, young ministers of the gospel and a host of

their elders courageously and nonviolently sitting in at lunch counters and wi

llingly going to jail for conscience’s sake. One day the South will know that wh

en these disinherited children of God sat down at lunch counters they were

in reality standing up for the best in the American dream and the most sac

red values in our Judeo-Christian heritage. ¶ Never before have I written

a letter this long—or should I say a book? I’m afraid that 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 is ther

e to do when you are alone for days in the dull monotony of a narrow jail

cell other than write long letters, think strange thoughts, and pray long pra

yers? ¶ If I have said anything in this letter that is an understatement of th

e truth and is indicative of an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgiv

e me. If I have said anything in this letter that is an overstatement of the tr

uth and is indicative of my having a patience that makes me patient with an

ything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me.

 

Yours for the cause of Peace and Brotherhood,

MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR.