ROANOKE TIMES

                         Roanoke Times
                 Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.

DATE: FRIDAY, September 24, 1993                   TAG: 9309290331
SECTION: EDITORIAL                    PAGE: A11   EDITION: METRO 
SOURCE: WILLIAM RASPBERRY
DATELINE:                                 LENGTH: Medium


REAL PEACE UNLIKELY BETWEEN FARRAKHAN, BLACK LEADERS

AT THE beginning of last week, Jesse Jackson was predicting the historic peace accord between Israel and the Palestine Liberation Organization would open the way for improved relations between a variety of erstwhile disputants: Arabs and Israelis, Israelis and black South Africans, African Americans and American Jews.

By week's end, Jackson and other black leaders were scrambling to control the consequences of a domestic peace accord that took them by surprise: the rapprochement between the black leadership mainstream and the Nation of Islam.

It isn't that they don't want better relations with Minister Louis Farrakhan, leader of the Black Muslims. They do. Their nervousness is over the fact that this tentative peace, unlike the Israel/PLO accord, is not the result of careful negotiation, tactical concession and mutually altered priorities. This one fell out of the sky during a Thursday afternoon Congressional Black Caucus forum on race in America.

Participants in the forum included Jackson, Farrakhan, Reps. Kweisi Mfume and Maxine Waters and Ben Chavis, head of the NAACP. Much of the afternoon featured attempts by the panelists to promote their particular takes on the problems of black people in America. The exchanges were, from time to time, somewhat pointed, but The theme was unity without the necessity of uniformity.

Then Chavis, the new head of the NAACP, brought up broached a subject that the others had studiously avoided: the exclusion of Farrakhan from the 30th anniversary celebration of the March on Washington and Farrakhan's subsequent blast, in the Nation of Islam's newspaper, Final Call, charging the march's leadership with knuckling under to outside forces.

``It was a mistake not to have Minister Farrakhan speak at the march on Washington,'' said Chavis, clearly entranced by the calls for unity. ``Somebody needs to have the courage to say that. It was also a mistake, Minister Farrakhan, for your publication to denounce brothers who did not present you to speak. But I would like to discuss that with you in private, because I love you and respect you.''The audience loved it. They loved it even more when Farrakhan, thanking Chavis for his statement, offered a definitional clarification.

``A mistake,'' Farrakhan chided, ``is an unintentional departure from right. An error is an intentional departure from that which is correct. It was more than a mistake. It was an error. I've never [before] used my words, my pen or my speech to attack other black leaders, but I believe it was necessary to write what I wrote. If that disturbed us to the point where we will go in the back room and iron out our differences, then black people will be all the better for my exclusion from the march on Washington and my rebuke in the Final Call. ...

``When we have this meeting in closed session may we iron out whatever differences we may have and make a pledge to each other that we can say in public that we will never let somebody outside of our family determine what goes on inside our family.And we will tell those who wish to exclude a member of the family from participating with the family to keep their mouth out of our family business.''

It was, in fact, a stirring rhetorical moment. The problem, as black leaders acknowledged over the weekend, is that apart from differences in emphasis and approach for solving common problems, Farrakhan brings with him the baggage of anti-Semitism. He denies that he is anti-Semitic; most Jews take it as a matter of fact. And their perception has plagued both Jackson's political ambitions (they wanted him to publicly distance himself from Farrakhan) and the attempts of mainstream blacks and Jews to repair their traditional alliance.

For Farrakhan, all this may be a sign of wimpishness among black leaders who, if they were real men and women, would refuse to ``allow an enemy to both of us to get between us.''. For the black political/civil rights establishment, on the other hand, Jewish support is critical. Moreover, such pragmatic considerations aside, most of them simply don't subscribe to Farrakhan's notions about Jews, and they are troubled by his apparent fixation with Jews.

But they are also intrigued by the prospect of a unity that could link mainstream activists with the disaffected masses that Farrakhan can, on short notice, turn out by the thousands. Can they bring Farrakhan into the camp without triggering the defection of other critical allies?

My guess is that they can't - unless the controversial minister can get over his obsession with Jews and, like Arafat and Rabin, make the clearcut and public utterance that can suspend disbelief. If he insists on going his own unreformed way, taking his occasional shot at Jews and equating black discomfiture with wimpishness, it's hard to see how last week's shining show of unity can turn out to be more than just another flash in the pan.

\ Washington Post Writers Group



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