|  | *AUTHOR'S NOTE: This response to a
  published statement by eight fellow clergymen from Alabama (Bishop C. C. J.
  Carpenter, Bishop Joseph A. Durick, Rabbi Hilton L. Grafman, Bishop Paul
  Hardin, Bishop Holan B. Harmon, the Reverend George M. Murray. the Reverend
  Edward V. Ramage and the Reverend Earl Stallings) was composed under somewhat
  constricting circumstance. Begun on the margins of the newspaper in which the
  statement appeared while I was in jail, the letter was continued on scraps of
  writing paper supplied by a friendly Negro trusty, and concluded on a pad my
  attorneys were eventually permitted to leave me. Although the text remains in
  substance unaltered, I have indulged in the author's prerogative of polishing
  it for publication. 
 
 
 
LETTER FROM BIRMINGHAM JAILApril 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.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
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