Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: TUESDAY, October 17, 1995 TAG: 9510170096
SECTION: NATIONAL/INTERNATIONAL PAGE: A-4 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: The New York Times
DATELINE: WASHINGTON LENGTH: Medium
It was part inspiration, conspiracy theory and numerology, with a good dose of black nationalism and the joys and necessity of bootstrap capitalism. He attacked white supremacy in one breath and then turned around and condemned what he called the failures of black manhood.
``I point out the evils of black people like no other leader alive,'' the Muslim minister bellowed, a group of stern-faced members of the Nation's paramilitary detail, the Fruit of Islam, at his sides and back, dressed in their dark blue uniforms.
The speech, or ``lecture'' as he called it, began in bright sunshine and ended near dusk more than two hours later, as thousands of those who had come for his Million Man March began leaving to catch buses back to their cities and towns around the United States.
It was a stage the 62-year-old grandfather has been working for since his days nearly four decades ago as a Calypso singer billed as ``The Charmer,'' but especially in the last 17 years, as he traveled the country, talking to small crowds in small churches.
As he methodically went about rebuilding the Nation of Islam, most people beyond the black community ignored or dismissed him as the head of a sect with a fetish for bow ties and bean pies.
And more recently, his public image has been haunted by charges of anti-Semitism, sexism and homophobia. Just last Friday, in an interview with Reuters, he accused Jewish and Asian business owners of being ``bloodsuckers.''
But at least parts of his message of pride and anger have struck a chord across class lines, from the brother on the block to the brother in the boardroom.
``Minister Farrakhan is like E.F. Hutton,'' said Derick Williams, a 25-year-old resident of a Washington public housing project. ``When he speaks, black people listen.''
At times Monday he stirred the crowd to cheers, as when he rebuked his critics and delivered his message of black empowerment. ``Whether you like it or not, God brought the idea through me, and he didn't bring it through me because my heart was dark with hatred and anti-Semitism,'' he said, adding, ``If my heart were that dark, how is the message so bright, the message so clear, the response so magnificent?''
But other parts of the speech left many baffled. ``What is so deep about this number 19?'' Farrakhan asked at one point. ``Why are we standing on the Capitol steps today? That number 19, when you have a nine, you have a womb that is pregnant, and when you have a one standing by the nine, it means that there's something secret that has to be unfolded.''
At least for this day, Farrakhan may have earned himself top billing in the drama of black political leadership. But as impressive as the sea of black men on the Mall was, it is unclear what it will mean for Farrakhan or what it says about the heart and direction of black America.
The turnout makes one thing clear. Farrakhan, unlike anyone else in some time, has tapped into a deep and wide sense of discontent in black America. Roger Wilkins, a historian at George Mason University, says Farrakhan has become a powerful voice largely by default.
``Responsible black people,'' Wilkins said, ``have been trying to get the attention of the Democratic Party and the Republican Party for a long time to tell them that black people were unemployed at double digit levels for two decades, that black teen-agers are in trouble, black families are falling apart largely because they do not have adequate incomes. White people have not listened."
by CNB