“Young men, to the front!” by Hon. Richard T. Greener, LL.D.

In the Service of our Ancestors and African Love,
Listen Seeker, I come in peace,

“Vata dikôndo mbôngi diafwa.” (A village without a boko [Community Center] is dead. A society without institutions where public freedom is warranted is straight to its fall.) — African Proverb

In 1914 Robert John Nelson and Alice-Moore Dunbar collaborated on “Master Pieces of Negro Eloquence” and among the excerpts is Richard Greener’s appeal for young people to be more involved. This is a century’s appeal disturbed rarely and it must be asked “Why?” Greener does not answer why, at least not explicitly, but our ancestors have. We do not have the institutions for our youth to continue from us. Greener is reputably the first of us to graduate from their highest institution. This impresses those who don’t realize four years in their institution is oftentimes four years out of ours. What is our “Harvard?” And when will we use it to connect the generations that both the Elder can be Elders (Wise) and Council and the Young can be Young (Strong) and War? Assist me in building the institutions.


By Hon. Richard T. Greener, LL. D.

Richard T. Greener, as far as is known, was the first Negro to be graduated from Harvard University with the degree of Bachelor of Arts. He received the degree of LL.D. both from Howard University and from Liberia College, Monrovia, of which he was the dean for some time. In 1897 he was appointed United States Consul to Vladivostok, and served through the Russian-Japanese War. While in this official capacity he was decorated by the Chinese Government with the order of the “Double Dragon,” the only Negro ever so honored.

The adage which was once so common, if not so thoroughly axiomatic as to gain universal credence—”Old men for council and young men for war”—assumes additional notoriety to-day, when the old men are quarreling in the council chamber and the young men are kept outside the door. While the young men are willing to allow much to the school of experience, many of them are the followers of Locke, and believe in the doctrine of innate ideas. They believe, to continue the comparison, that experience and wisdom do not always spring from length of years, nor does ignorance appertain to youth as a necessity. They dare assert that, as there are those who would never be men, lived they to be as old as Methuselah, so there are some whose minds are as well filled, whose judgments are as mature at twenty-five and eight, and their energy as decisive as though they were in their tenth lustrum. Conscious of this fact, it is the absurdity of folly for the young colored men of the country to sit idly by and see the grandest opportunities slipping away, the best cases lost by default because of the lack of energy displayed by many of our so-called leaders who have been longer on the field. With some very few exceptions, honorable as they are rare, they have done well for their day and generation; but with regard to the needs and policy of the Negroes of the present hour they are as innocent as babes. Men for the most part of excellent temper and good working capacity, they lack that which is the handmaid and often the indispensable auxiliary of knowledge and all effective work—judgment. Unconscious puppets often, they dance to unseen music, moved themselves by hidden wires.

The convention was the favorite resort of the leading Negro of ten years ago. He convened and resolved, resolved and unconvened—read his own speeches, was delighted with his own frothy rhetoric, and really imagined himself a great man. He talked eloquently then, it must be granted, because he spoke of his wrongs; but when the war overturned the edifice of slavery “Othello’s occupation” was “gone,” indeed. The number who have survived and held their own under the new order of things may be counted upon one hand. They survive through that grand old law so much combated but ever true—the survival of the fittest. They alone give character and reputation to the Negro. They make for him a fame which begets respect where his wrongs only excited pity. The field is comparatively clear now some of the older hacks have fallen by the way or lie spavined at the roadside. The question is, Will the young men of color throughout the country resolve to begin now to take part in public affairs, asserting their claim wherever it is denied, maintaining it wherever contested, and show that the young may be safe in counsel as well as good for war?

There are some who arrogate to themselves wisdom because of their years, just as some equally absurd people think they are wise because they never went to a high school or an academy—men, Heaven save the mark! who pride themselves on having never slaked their thirst at the fount of knowledge. It is not our purpose to disparage age. We remember what Cicero has written, so delightfully, of its pleasures; what Cephalus and Socrates thought of it in the Republic. We look “toward sunset” with reverence and respect; but it is with a reverence that makes us conscious of our own duty. The young men are now studying, working, some, alas! idling away their time who ought to be the active, earnest men in the next Presidential campaign; young men who are to control the destinies of the race. Many of them are of marked ability and decidedly energetic in character. Not so fluent, perhaps, as their fathers, they are more thoughtful. They are found throughout the country. We feel that, if like Roderick Dhu, we should put the whistle to our lips and blow a stirring blast, they would spring up in every part of the country ready with voice, pen, or muscle to do their share in any honorable work. In spirit we do this, as young men ourselves, willing to blow a blast which, would that the young men of the country would hear and heed! Young men, to the front! Young men, rouse yourselves! Take the opportunities; make them where they are denied! “Quit you like men; be strong.”

Young men, to the front!

Source: http://www.gutenberg.org/files/22240/22240-h/22240-h.htm#Page_63

Fable: The Gender Battle

In the Service of our Ancestors and African Love,
Listen Seeker, I come in peace,

“The virtue of the soldiers is worth more than a multitude, and the site is often of more benefit than virtue.” — General Rule of Warfare

In warfare the strategy depends on the multitude, the soldiers and the site.  The site is most important.  Today, the site Africans face is being surrounded on all four sides.  In such a situation, every African home needs an African man, for African men are the Primary Protectors of African people (African women are the Primary Healers.)  That said, I wrote a short story about an African Father.  The characters were carefully drawn out.  Please read and re-read.  Warfare isn’t easy or straightforward.  But we must learn how to navigate this battlefield; lest we’ll fall victim to the designs of our enemies.

Fable: The Gender Battle
By Onitaset Kumat

He hurled her suitcase of clothes out the door.  “Now get out!”  The crash overwhelmed the lock, spilling her underwear, socks, shirts and pants onto the sidewalk.  “Get out!” he repeated.

The small woman looked up at her father with watery eyes then slumped pass his pointed, muscular arm.  She was fifteen.  Only two years ago she dreamed of her mysterious father.  He then returned from incarceration angry and upset at her, her siblings and her mother.  He insisted that he would ‘make up for lost time’; yet somehow he was kicking his oldest daughter out of their house and caring little about the ‘sensitivities’ of his second son.  The whole house seemed more on edge.  In some ways she was happy to be leaving.

Her mother stood inside on the top of the stairs, both afraid and pleading.  Her father looked sharply at her, then closed the door behind him.  A year of battles with her father won and lost.  She had her freedom to do what she wants now yet at a cost of her family.

Just then a pervert emerged out of a nearby car, “Don’t worry police are on the way.”  There was the boy who caused her father so much ire.  A small, pasty, pale White pervert.  He was eighteen, with a car, a tattoo and a certain carelessness.  She mistook his carelessness for maturity.  Thank their television.  Truly he cared of things, many things, he just didn’t care for her.  As she gathered her clothes, she heard the police sirens raging.  She darted into the boy’s car for safety with the suitcase and most of her clothes in hand.  Then she watched as a dozen officers came gun cocked to her door.  “They will kill that nigger,” smiled the honkey as the words first pleased and revolted her–then they only revolted her.  She thought how her father would die.

“Come out with your hands up!”  There was movement by her oldest brother’s window.  Were they going to shoot at the police?

“Nooooo!!!” shrieked her mother as her husband walked out, hands up, and her brother watched on, instructed by his father not to shoot.  “Nooo!!” she repeated, “Don’t take my husband again!”  On deaf ears fell her plea as her husband insisted she return to the house.  “Kill me!!  Kill me!!!” she began to cry at the officers.  One woman among them licked her lips at the thought.  Her daughter then ran out of the car, guns trained on her, to plea with her mother.  The pervert found other distractions in his car.

“Mom, go back home!”  Her father showed some approval and verbally agreed.  He then told the honkeys he’s ready to go to the station and amidst the shrieks and cries of his wife, he walked forward figuring he’ll have another decade of hard labour and abstinence.

The police drove off with him.  The rest of the family came out to comfort their mother.  The eldest son, a thirteen-year-old with a complexion like an oak tree, spoke to his older sister, “Stay with us tonight.”

She walked over to the car and told the pervert.  He responded “whatever” and let her take her clothes and suitcase before driving off.  Her brother then put the heavy bag on his head and walked his family home.  He was the man of the house–at thirteen.

After closing the door, the new man spoke up, “We have no time to waste.”  The mother, still crying and shaking her head, audibly sniffed running mucus up her nose, signaling she had to be attentive for  her husband.  “Sister, you need to go to the precinct and explain it was a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding!” she exploded.  “I hope he–” SLAP.  The young woman collapsed onto the ground after her liquorice mother struck her across the mouth with all 170 lbs.  She stood tall at 5’10″.  “Mother why?!?” screamed the young woman from the floor.

“Your father is right.  You are fifteen.  You are an adult.  You are out of your African mind if you think I’ll let you talk of my husband, your father, that way!”

From the ground the young woman mumbled back, “You were not so brave to the police.”

The son expected to restrain his mother but she calmly rebutted, “Oh my daughter, your father told us not to be.  He understood those honkeys would kill every last one of us.  He sacrificed himself for our lives and you mock me for living.  How happy would you have been to go drive off with that pervert boy with your family slaughtered?”

“He’s not a pervert or a boy!  He loves me!”

“Calling honkeys to kill your family is love?  A dozen officers came here.  Guns poised.  Your father threw out the suitcase you packed after you insisted on leaving.  Daughter, where’s the love?  That boy–”

“He’s not a boy!  He’s older than me!”

“Your father was so upset that I sent you all to the ‘Public Fool System.’  Whites don’t mature as fast as we do.  We reach adulthood at 14; they claim they do at 21.  I see it now and so should you.  We are a people at war and we need our men to protect our homes.”

“Protect us from what?”

“Whites and White ways.”

“Don’t forget the other races, mother.”

“That is why you are here, son.  Until your father returns, you must protect us from those races.”

“You’re all racist,” shouted the daughter.

“And they aren’t?”  The mother saw that her daughter was now thinking.  She helped her daughter stand then brought her head to her shoulder.  Moisture accumulated on their shirts.

“Mommy, let’s go to the precinct and get daddy out.”

“I hope we can, honey.  But call us by our first names.  You’re a woman now.”

“Remembering a time when African Queens ruled” by Robin Walker

In the Service of our Ancestors and African Love,
Listen Seeker, I come in peace,

“Each truth you learn will be, for you, as new as if it had never been written.” — African Proverb

The truth is out there.  It is often written.  It’s upon us to research the writings of our past.  There was a time when Africans ruled and Kings and Queens ruled.  The time passed.  Interracial Warfare took that time away from us.

In order for us to return to our state of rule, we must empower ourselves.  We must empower our Race, empower our African Nations, empower our Fellowships and empower our Families.  This is what History teaches us.  African Queens ruled when African Kings ruled.  African Empowerment is the key to our return to the peak.  Please Organize our Power with us.

Remembering a time when African Queens ruled
by Robin Walker

Ancient Egypt is the most controversial part of Black History. Most historians continue to place Egypt alongside the civilisations of the Middle East to the virtual exclusion of its African origin. The key fact here is that the modern Arab nation of Egypt was born in 639 AD when the Arabians invaded and occupied Egypt (and the rest of North Africa) for the very first time. Ancient Egypt is what the Africans built before the Arabians got there.

What follows here is a history of some of that ancient African achievement.

Ancient Egypt was the first major civilisation in Africa for which records are abundant. Its second ruler was Queen Neith-Hotep (c.5581 BC). The single most powerful person in the world at the time, she ruled as Queen-Regent for the young Pharaoh Djer until he became of age to accept full political authority.

Pharaoh Mer-Neith (5524-c.5507 BC) succeeded Djer on the throne. She, however, ruled as Egypt’s first female pharaoh. Her name means `beloved of Neith’, named after a goddess that the Greeks would, at a much later date, call Athena. She had two great tombs built, one in the southern Egyptian city of Abydos and the other in the northern city of Saqqara. Tradition dictated that these monuments be built to symbolise the authority of the pharaoh as ruler over the north and south. Her monuments, especially the Saqqara tomb, are as large and impressive as those of the male pharaohs. She could thus be called history’s first feminist.

Neith-Hotep and Mer-Neith belonged to the First Egyptian Dynasty. From Dynasty One to the end of Dynasty Six (5660-4188 BC) was the Old Kingdom – Egypt’s first golden age. This was the era when the Sphinx of Giza was built, the Great Pyramids were erected, and the first substantial literature in the world appeared.

Two great females appeared during the Sixth Dynasty. Iput (c.4355 BC) ruled Egypt as Queen-Regent for Pharaoh Pepi I until he became of age. Pharaoh Nitocris was the last ruler of the dynasty (4200-4188 BC). The Old Kingdom collapsed after her rule. Egypt went into a lengthy period of decline called the First Intermediate Period (4188-3448 BC).

Kush, the land to the south of Egypt (i.e. Sudan), became a great and powerful kingdom during Egypt’s decline.

Egypt entered its second golden age with the birth of the Middle Kingdom in 3448 BC. Outside of the Nile Valley, states appeared for the first time in Asia. Of these, Sumer (located in modern Iraq) emerged first around 3300 BC. It was quickly followed by Elam (located in modern Iran), Akkad (in Iraq and Syria), and then the Indus Valley Civilisation (in western India and Pakistan). With the controversial exception of Crete, there were no other known civilisations on the planet at this date. Some British historians, however, claim that Stonehenge and various structures built in Ireland and Scotland deserve consideration as evidence of early civilisation in Europe.

Returning to Egypt, the last pharaoh of the Twelfth Dynasty was Sebekneferura. She ruled Egypt for 3 years and 10 months (3186-3182 BC). After her reign the Middle Kingdom collapsed followed by anarchy – the Second Intermediate Period. During this lengthy and disastrous age (3182-1709 BC), non-African invaders from Asia ruled Egypt. They were the first Caucasians known to have ruled any part of African territory.

Kush, to the south, again flourished during this period.

During the reign of the last foreign ruler, King Ipepi (1770-1709 BC), the Egyptians rebelled. Queen Ahhotep saved Egypt during these wars of liberation. She rallied the Egyptian troops and crushed a rebellion in Southern Egypt. For her part in the liberation struggle, she received Egypt’s highest military decoration at least three times – the Order of the Fly. After ruling as Queen-Regent,Kamose, her son, succeeded her. He maintained the military pressure on the foreigners until they were finally evicted from Egypt.

The New Kingdom period lasted from Dynasty Eighteen to Dynasty Twenty (1709-1095 BC). Queen Ahmose-Nefertari, the co-founder of the Eighteenth Dynasty, did much to help reconstruct the country. Holding the positions of Second Prophet of Amen and also Divine Wife, she performed various civil and religious duties. She maintained a college of priestesses, controlled the divine offerings to the deity Amen, was in charge of the workers of the temple fields and also controlled a number of dignitaries. She later ruled the country as Queen-Regent for Amenhotep I, her son. Some building projects date back to her time such as the reconstruction of the Deir-el-Medina necropolis. Of this great woman, Sir Flinders Petrie, master of the British archaeologists, wrote that she was “the most venerated figure of Egyptian history.”

Hatshepsut was the next great woman of the dynasty. In September 1650 BC Thutmose I, her father, elevated her to the position of co-regent. Following this in 1628 BC she became the Great Royal Wife of Thutmose II. In 1615 BC she ruled as Queen-Regent for Thutmose III but later deposed him. She proclaimed herself pharaoh in his place and took the religious titles the “female Horus” and the “daughter of Ra”. At Karnak she erected two giant obelisks that rose to almost 100 feet. In Deir-el-Bahri, she built an astonishing temple that was cut out of the rock from which it stood!

In around 1530 BC Queen Tiye became the last great woman of the dynasty, as illness made her husband and pharaoh more and more dependent on her. Tiye built alliances by arranging diplomatic marriages. She also bought off Asian peoples through the gift giving of gold. In return, the Asians sold lapis lazuli and cedar wood. A period of much prosperity and stability, this allowed for the construction of great monuments at Karnak and Luxor.

The Nineteenth Dynasty was also a great period. Tawosret (1243-1236 BC) was the last pharaoh of the dynasty. Again, she ascended the throne as the most powerful individual in the world.

After the Twentieth Dynasty Egypt fell apart for a third time. Central authority in Egypt disappeared and eventually the Kushites (i.e. Sudanese) seized control over all Egypt. They founded the Twenty Fifth Dynasty (785-664 BC) and installed their female relatives as rulers of Egypt.

Amenirdas I was the first such ruler. She became “Chief Prophetess of Amen” and “Mistress of Egypt”. Records from her reign have survived throughout Egypt. There are also statues, statuettes, etc. that have come down to us. She restored buildings and commissioned public works programmes.

Shepenoupet, her niece, succeeded her but there is confusion over names and details of this dynasty of female rulers, however. For example, it is known that a Shepenoupet was the last independent African ruler of Egypt, but we do not know which one. (It might have been Shepenoupet II).

After this final period of achievement, Egypt fell in 663 BC to the Assyrians. Shepenoupet (II) was deposed in 654 BC. After this, various other Caucasian peoples conquered Egypt. Egypt fell to the Persians in 525 BC, the Greeks 332 BC, the Romans in 30 BC and finally to the Arabs in 639 AD.

Pharaonic culture survived only in Kush. Meanwhile Egypt was gradually de-Africanised by the various conquests and occupations. This is why modern Egypt contains some Black people but is no longer a Black civilisation. After 639 AD, the land now belonged to the Arabs.

Source: http://www.blacknet.co.uk/component/content/article/117-myblog/myblog/2431

Of Losing at the Conference Table (Original: 6/2/2011))

In the Service of our Ancestors and African Love,
Listen Seeker, I come in peace,

“True teaching is not an accumulation of knowledge; it is an awaking of consciousness which goes through successive stages.” — African Proverb

On June 2nd, 2011, I was twenty-two and angry.  I frequented the United African Movement in Brooklyn, the only all-African political assembly in New York at the time and Dr. Jeffries explained how we always lose at Negotiations, what Alton H. Maddox, Jr, Chairman of the UAM, calls the third stage of Warfare.

I needed to write to our people, so I recalled the newsletters my undergraduate African History professor shared in 2009 and wrote my favorite Pambazuka Press the following article.  On June 13th they edited and published it.  I was elated.

No, I can’t really call myself a professional writer.  That would imply writing is a profitable endeavor for me.  But coming on three years and 351 articles, I’m consistently Pan-African!  The article below is a bit ‘controversial,’ what I said of it three years ago, but the same spirit persists.  We need to know who we are and who ‘they’ are.  And I need to continue to be me: Onitaset Kumat.  The format may change, but the content doesn’t.  I’m fighting for the African Race.

The UAM is now the largest (not the only) all-African political assembly in New York; the African Blood Siblings however will continue to step into the limelight of Pan-African all-African African-Nationalist thought!  Shem-em HTP!

Of Losing at the Conference Table
By Onitaset Kumat

Em Hotep Siblings,

The quest for knowledge is the quest for instruction.

“We win in the struggle, but lose at the conference table,” Dr. Jeffries said this truism that ought resonate with every Pan-Africanist. “We never won at negotiations” he continued. It is difficult to read the speech of the great martyr Patrice Lumumba. On June 30th, 1960, he spoke toward cooperating with the very same people who chopped off hands when rubber quotas were not met, who made Africans disrespect Africans in their basic grammar, who reduced his compatriots to sitting at their feet in trolleys, and who regularly did most every evil he then understood. He stood before an audience and reprimanded “tribal quarrels”, uplifted the European view on things, all while declaring “victory” for “the struggle!” A little more than five months later, he would be captured and killed military-style. European business as usual continued. Some ‘victory.’ This story of the cooperating Negro replays in Nkrumah, Toussaint, Malcolm X, Vasco Homem and so on. All of our stories are instructive, but Toussaint’s shall instruct here. In ‘modern history,’ the only “successful” slave revolt was the Haitian Revolution. When the Anglos were slaves, they waited for Christianity. When the Romans were slaves, Spartacus rose and fell. But when we were slaves, we fought the world over, and in Haiti, Toussaint won against England, Spain and Napoleon’s France. Haiti was the richest colony in the Americas; Haiti is the poorest nation in the Americas. Toussaint cried “For the People!” while Dessalines’ corrected him “For the wretched!” Toussaint was captured and killed. “The cooperating Negro.” Shortly after, Dessalines was replaced. Despite the heroism in Haiti, it suffers and suffers greatly. Martin Luther King Jr. once said “Those who do not stand for something, will fall for anything.” He speaks toward us. Without a Pan-African Philosophy, a cry “For the wretched!,” we will lose and lose greatly.

It is a surprise that we are put in the position of always losing at negotiations, for no people on the planet are more innately intelligent than Africans. We try to avoid statements dealing with racial superiority, but it is better to express oneself truthfully than it is to lie for the sake of the same “political correctness” that oppresses us. Countless learned Europeans have opined to the intellectual superiority of Africans, despite the common culture declaring otherwise. The so-called ruling Europeans, the Masons, are an emulation of African intellect. Most every civilization on the planet descends from African genius. Our accomplishments are endless. Even in modern times, we have accomplished the distinction of “Great Debaters.” Yet again, we always lose at negotiations.

We stopped educating ourselves. To re-use Lumumba, how can we expect a successful African uprising from one educated in the European’s slave religion, culture and education system? Many rural Africans have retained our ancient cultures and religions, but many more Africans have not and worse oppose them. The Mason Socrates repeated what he read in KMT “Know Thyself.” We mostly seem to struggle without self-knowledge. Who are we? Where are the governments in Africa that are financing this self-exploration? Why are theologians leading movements rather than lawyers, architects, and most importantly Philosophers?

We need to break from this enslaving system. Our governments need to finance explorations into our self-identity. So many of us carry our ancient traditions but so many more of us are carrying these modern degeneracies. It is costing us Africa. Dr. Jeffries called for think tanks to review these contracts being signed that give away our continent to foreign exploiters. We need to get moving.

The Nile Civilizations were the greatest in the world and only possible through African genius. Without understanding this, we can not unleash this. A step toward our revival is dialogue. We must communicate to cooperate to elevate and we should have started years ago. Dr. Clarke warned “Pan-Africanism or Perish!” Marcus Garvey alerted the same theme. Have no hesitation in emailing myself or any other African you know. “Up, up you mighty race, you can accomplish what you will!”

Such is the matter concerning losing at conference tables,
Onitaset Kumat

Published:  http://www.pambazuka.org/en/category/comment/73906

Marcus Garvey’s Epic Poem every African should Memorize: “Tragedy of White Injustice”

In the Service of our Ancestors and African Love,
Listen Seeker, I come in peace,

No fool’s stand on argument must we make;
Between Heaven and earth an oath we take:
“Our lands to deliver from foreign foes,
Caring not of trials and maudlin woes.”

– Marcus Mosiah Garvey

Marcus Mosiah Garvey does not need an introduction. In our Maafa, he ranks amongst the most far-reaching leaders for the African Race. His expertise was nation-building, and for this Yurugu (Europeans) pursued his destruction to a tragic end. Yurugu does not want Prosperous, Independent Communal African; Yurugu wants Impoverished, Dependent, Individualistic “Hyphenated-African.”

Garvey wrote this epic poem in 1927 and later wrote,

“Read and study thoroughly the poem, “Tragedy of White Injustice” and apply its sentiment and statements in connection with the historic character and behavior of the white man. Know it so well as always to be able to be on guard against any professions of the white man in his suggested friendship for the Negro.

The poem exposes the white man’s behavior in history and is intended to suggest distrust of him in every phase of life. Never allow it to get into the hands of a white man, if possible.”

I long hesitated republishing the poem, but on this 350th post of the African Blood Siblings Newsletter, I decided, the epic poem–which should be recited in our schools and studied in our colleges–is not in enough hands, so while this newsletter is unfortunately not exclusive to Africans, in honor of Garvey’s will to reach more with his message, I reprint the poem below. Please share this with every African you can. From two-years-old to two-hundred, let no African be unaware of this poem!  It’s not perfect but it is Garvey’s.  We are in service to our ancestors: born, re-born and unborn.

Tragedy of White Injustice
By Marcus Mosiah Garvey

Lying and stealing is the whiteman’s game;
For rights of God nor man he has no shame
(A practice of his throughout the whole world)
At all, great thunderbolts he has hurled;
He has stolen everywhere — land and sea;
A buccaneer and pirate he must be,
Killing all, as he roams from place to place,
Leaving disease, mongrels — moral disgrace.
The world’s history of him is replete,
From his javelin-bolt to new-built fleet:
Hosts he has robbed and crushed below;
Of friend and neighbor he has made a foe.
From our men and women he made the slave.
Then boastingly he calls himself a brave;
Cowardly, he steals on his trusting prey.
Killing in the dark, then shouts he hoo ray!
Not to go back to time pre-historic,
Only when men in Nature used to frolic.
And you will find his big, long murder-list.
Showing the plunderings of his mailed fist;
Africa, Asia and America
Tell the tale in a mournful replica
How tribesmen, Indians and Zulus fell
Fleeing the murdering bandit pell mell.
American Indian tribes were free;
Sporting, dancing, and happy as could be;
Asia’s hordes lived then a life their own,
To civilization they would have grown:
Africa’s millions laughed with the sun.
In the cycle of man a course to run;
In stepped the white man, bloody and grim.
The light of these people’s freedom to dim.
Coolies of Asiatics they quickly made,
In Africa’s blacks they built a world trade,
The Red Indians they killed with the gun,
All else of men and beasts they put to run;
Blood of murderer Cain is on their head,
Of man and beast they mean to kill dead;
A world of their own is their greatest aim,
For which Yellow and Black are well to blame.
Out of cold old Europe these white men came,
From caves, dens and holes, without any fame,
Eating their dead’s flesh and sucking their blood,
Relics of the Mediterranean flood;
Literature, science and art they stole,
After Africa had measured each pole,
Asia taught them what great learning was,
Now they frown upon what the Coolie does.
They have stolen, murdered, on their way here,
Leaving desolation and waste everywhere;
Now they boastingly tell what they have done,
Seeing not the bloody crown they have won;
Millions of Blacks died in America,
Coolies, peons, serfs, too, in Asia;
Upon these dead bones Empires they builded,
Parceling out crowns and coronets gilded.
Trifling with God’s Holy Name and Law,
Mixing Christ’s religion that had no flaw,
They have dared to tell us what is right,
In language of death-bullets, gas and might.
Only with their brute force they hold us down,
Men of color, Yellow, Red, Black and Brown:
Not a fair chance give they our men to rise.
Christian liars we see in their eyes.
With the Bible they go to foreign lands,
Taking Christ and stealth in different hands;
Making of God a mockery on earth,
When of the Holy One there is no dearth:
They say to us: “You, sirs, are the heathen,
“We your brethren — Christian fellowmen,
“We come to tell the story of our God”;
When we believe, they give to us the rod.
After our confidence they have thus won,
From our dear land and treasure we must run;
Story of the Bible no more they tell,
For our souls redeemed we could go to hell.
Oil, coal and rubber, silver and gold,
They have found in wealth of our lands untold,
Thus, they claim the name of our country, all,
Of us they make then their real foot-ball.
If in the land we happen to tarry,
Most of us then become sad and sorry,
For a white man’s country they say it is,
And with shot, gas and shell, they prove it his:
What can we do who love the Gracious Lord,
But fight, pray, watch and wait His Holy word:
His second coming we know to be true,
Then, He will greet the white man with his due.
This Christ they killed on Calvary’s Cross,
After His Person around they did toss:
White men the Savior did crucify,
For eyes not blue, but blood of Negro tie;
Now they worship Him in their churches great,
And of the Holy Ghost they daily prate;
“One God” they say, enough for all mankind,
When in slavery the Blacks they entwined.
Their churches lines of demarcation draw;
In the name of Christ there is no such law,
Yet Black and White they have separated,
A Jim Crow God the preachers operated,
Then to Heaven they think they will all go,
When their consciences ought to tell them NO.
God is no respecter of persons great,
So each man must abide his final fate.
We’d like to see the white man converted,
And to right and justice be devoted;
Continuing in land-values to lie and steal,
Will bring destruction down upon his heel.
All that the other races want, I see,
Is the right to liberty and be free;
This the selfish white man doesn’t want to give;
He alone, he thinks, has the right to live.
There shall be a bloody mix-up everywhere;
Of the white man’s plunder we are aware:
Men of color the great cause understand,
Unite they must, to protect their own land.
No fool’s stand on argument must we make;
Between Heaven and earth an oath we take:
“Our lands to deliver from foreign foes,
Caring not of trials and maudlin woes.”
The privilege of men to protect home
Was established before the days of Rome.
Many gallant races fought and died,
Alien hordes in triumph thus defied.
Carthage did not crush Ancient Greece
For their believing in the Golden Fleece.
No other race shall kill the sturdy Blacks
If on their tribal gods we turn our backs.
From Marathon, Tours, Blenheim and the Marne
A braver courage in man has been born;
Africans died at Thermopylae’s Pass,
Standing firm for Persia — men of Brass.
The Black Archers of Ethiopia stood
At Marathon, proving their stern manhood;
Senegalese held their own at Verdun,
Even though their praises are not now sung.
In the Americas’ modern warfare
The Blacks have ever borne their share;
With Cortez, Washington, too, and the rest,
We did for the others our truthful best;
At St. Domingo we struck a clear blow
To show which way the wind may one day go.
Toussaint L’Ouverture was our leader then,
At the time when we were only half-men.
Italians, Menelik put to chase,
Beating a retreat in uneven haste;
So down the line of history we come,
Black, courtly, courageous and handsome.
No fear have we today of any great men
From Napoleon back to Genghis Khan;
All we ask of men is “Give a square deal,”
Returning to others same right we feel.
With a past brilliant, noble and grand,
Black men march to the future hand in hand;
We have suffered long from the white man’s greed,
Perforce he must change his unholy creed.
Stealing, bullying and lying to all
Will drag him to ignominious fall;
For men are wise — yes, no longer are fools,
To have grafters make of them still cheap tools.
Each race should be proud and stick to its own,
And the best of what they are should be shown;
This is no shallow song of hate to sing,
But over Blacks there should be no white king.
Every man on his own foothold should stand,
Claiming a nation and a Fatherland!
White, Yellow and Black should make their own laws,
And force no one-sided justice with flaws.
Man will bear so much of imposition,
Till he starts a righteous inquisition.
History teaches this as a true fact,
Upon this premise all men do act.
Sooner or later each people take their stand
To fight against the strong, oppressive hand;
This is God’s plan, raising man to power,
As over sin and greed He makes him tower.
This trite lesson the white man has not learnt,
Waiting until he gets his fingers burnt.
Milleniums ago, when white men slept,
The great torch of light Asia kept.
Africa at various periods shone
Above them all as the bright noonday sun;
Coming from the darkened cave and hut,
The white man opened the gate that was shut.
Gradually light bore down upon him,
This ancient savage who was once dim;
When he commenced to see and move around,
He found the book of knowledge on the ground;
Centuries of wonder and achievements
Were cast before him in God’s compliments;
But, like the rest, he has now fallen flat,
And must in the Lord’s cycle yield for that.
We shall always be our brother’s keeper,
Is the injunction of the Redeemer:
Love and tolerance we must ever show,
If in Grace Divine we would truly grow:
This is the way clear to God’s great kingdom –
Not by the death-traps of Argonne or Somme,
When the terrible white man learns this much,
He will save even the African Dutch.
South Africa has a grave problem now
In reducing the Negro to the plow;
White men are to live in their lazy ease,
While the patience of the goodly natives tease;
They make new laws to have Africa white
Precipitating righteous and ready fight:
Around the world they speak of being so just,
Yet, in fact, no lone white man can you trust.
In Australia the same they have done,
And so, wherever man’s confidence won:
This they call the religion of the Christ,
And upon their willing slave try to foist.
Only a part of the world can you fool,
And easily reduce to your foot-stool;
The other one-half is always awake,
And from it you cannot liberty take.
“And now valiant Black men of the west
Must ably rise to lead and save the rest”:
This is the ringing call Africa sounds,
As throughout the Godly world it resounds;
Clansmen! black, educated, virile and true!
Let us prove too that we are loyal blue.
We must win in the blessed fight of love.
Trusting on the Maker of men above
The Christian world is yet to be saved!
Man, since the risen Christ has not behaved!
Wanton, reckless, wicked, he still remains,
Causing grief, sorrow, tears and human pains!
Can we show the Godly light to anyone
Seeking for earnest truth while marching on?
If so, friend, let us tell you now and here,
For love, freedom, justice let’s all prepare!
God in His Glorious Might is coming,
Wonderful signs He is ever showing,
Unrest, earthquakes, hurricanes, floods and storms
Are but revelations of Heavenly Forms:
The proud white scientist thinks he is wise
But the Black man’s God comes in true disguise,
God is sure in the rumbling earthquake,
When He is ready, the whole world will shake.
The Armageddon is gathering now;
The sign is on every oppressed man’s brow:
The whites who think they are ever so smart
Do not know other men can play their part:
When the opportune time is almost here
Black, Yellow and Brown will be ev’rywhere,
In union of cause they’ll stand together,
And storms of the bully boldly weather.
Their gases and shots, and their rays of death,
Shall only be child’s play — a dream of Seth,
For out of the clear, sleeping minds of ages,
Wonders shall be written on history’s pages:
Our buried arts and sciences then shall rise,
To show how for centuries we were wise:
Silent tongues we kept, by God’s true command,
Until of us, action, He did demand.
Under the canopy of Nature’s law
We shall unitedly and bravely draw.
On the plains of God’s green Amphitheatre,
Swords, in rhythm with Divine Meter:
Jehovah’s Day will have surely come.
With Angelic strains and Seraphic hum:
The Guides of Heaven will direct the way,
Keeping us from wandering far astray.
Like around the high walls of Jericho,
March we, as Rio speeds through Mexico:
Trumphets loud will the Guiding Angels blow,
As scatter the enemy to-and-fro:
Heaven will have given us a battle cry:
“Oh Brave Soldiers you shall never die”:
Rally to the command of Heaven’s King.
As Cherubim to Him your tidings bring.
See the deadly clash of arms! Watch! They fall!
There is stillness! — It is the funeral pall!
A sad requiem now is to be sung!
Not by Angels, but in their human tongue!
The cruel masters of yest’rday are done!
From the fields of battle they have run!
A brand new world of justice is to be!
“You shall be a true brother unto me!”
This is a forecast of God’s wrath:
White man, will you turn from the evil path?
There is still hope for you, among the good.
If you will seek the bigger-brotherhood:
Stop your tricks, frauds, lying and stealing.
And settle down to fair and square dealing;
If not, prepare yourself for gloomy hell.
As God announces the sorrowing knell.
Your lies, to us called diplomacy,
Are known by us, a brazen phantasy;
You imprison men for crimes not so great,
While on your silly wisdom you do prate.
The masses are soberly watching you;
They know that you are false and so untrue.
The laborers of your race you oppress,
As well as black and other men you distress.
If you were wise you’d read between the lines
Of feudal isms and others of old times.
Men have fought against ugly royal gods,
Burying them ‘neath European sods.
Such to heartless masters the people do,
From Syracuse to bloody Waterloo;
Wonderful lessons for any sober man,
Who worships not idols or the god Pan.
In the vicious order of things today,
The poor, suffering black man has no say;
The plot is set for one ‘gainst the other,
With organization they musn’t bother.
“If one should show his head as a leader,
Whom we cannot use, the rest to pilfer,
We shall discredit him before his own,
And make of him a notorious clown.”
“In Africa we have plans to match him,
While the native Chiefs of their lands we trim;
The Blacks schooled in England are too smart,
On the I BETTER THAN YOU scheme we’ll start,
And have them thinking away from the rest;
This philosophy for them is best –
Easier then we can rob the good lands
And make ourselves rich without soiled hands.”
“We will so keep from them the `NEGRO WORLD’
That no news they’ll have of a flag unfurled;
Should they smuggle copies in, and we fail,
We will send the sly agents all to jail.”
This is the white man’s plan across the sea.
Isn’t this wily and vicious as can be?
In other lands they have things arranged
Differently, yet they have never changed.
In America they have Colored to tell
What they know of the rest, whose rights they sell;
The Blacks they do try to keep always down,
But in time they will reap what they have sown.
No Negro’s good life is safe in the STATES
If he tries to be honest with his mates;
In politics he must sell at the polls,
To suit the white man in his many roles.
The West Indian whites are tricky, too;
They have schemes curved like the horse’s shoe
There is only one opening for the black –
Three other sides are close up to his back;
Hence he never gets a chance to look in
Whilst staring at the world of mortal sin.
Yes, this is the game they play everywhere,
Leaving the Negro to gloom and despair.
And now, white man, can we reason with you,
For each race in the world to give its due?
Africa for Africans is most right;
Asia for Asiatics is light;
To Europe for the Europeans,
America for the Americans:
This is the doctrine of the goodly Klan,
Now fighting for the alien ban,
Blacks do not hate you because you are white;
We believe in giving to all men right;
Some we do keep for ourselves to protect,
Knowing it as a virtue to select.
We are willing to be friends of mankind,
Pulling all together with none behind,
Growing in sane goodness and fellowship,
Choosing but the Almighty to worship.
Let justice prevail, at home and abroad;
Cease over the weak your burdens to lord;
You’re but mortal man, like the rest of us –
Of this happy truth we need make no fuss.
All Nature’s kindly gifts are justly ours –
Suns, oceans, trees, to pretty flowers –
So we need not doubt the marvelous fact
That God has given to each man his tract.
The common thief now steals a crust of bread,
The law comes down upon his hungry head;
The haughty land robber steals continents,
With men, oil, gold, rubber and all contents.
The first you say is a hopeless convic’,
While the latter escapes the law by trick;
That grave, one-sided justice will not do –
The poor call for consideration, too.
The rich white man starts the unholy war,
Then from the line of action he keeps far;
He pushes to the front sons of the poor,
There to do battle, die, suffer galore.
As the guns rage, liberty loans they raise,
And in glorious tones sing freedom’s praise.
This is the method to gain them more wealth,
Then, after vict’ry they practice great stealth.
Those who make wars should first go to the front,
And of gas, shot and shell bear there the brunt:
In first lines of action they are all due,
If to their country and people they are true:
When this is demanded in right of all,
There will be no more deadly cannon ball:
The downtrodden poor whites and blacks should join
And prevent rich whites our rights to purloin.
Weeping mothers, tricked in patriotism,
Send their sons to fight for liberalism:
Into most far off lands they go with pride,
Thinking right and God be on their side:
When they get into the bloody trenches,
They find of lies they had awful drenches:
The people they were all supposed to kill,
Like themselves, had gotten of lies their fill.
In the private club and drawing room,
White schemes are hatched for the nation’s doom:
Speculators, grafters, bankers — all,
With politicians join to hasten the fall,
By stealing rights from other citizens,
As if they weren’t fit or true denizens:
How awful is this daring story
That we tell to men young and hoary.
Crooked lawyers, friends and politicians,
Corrupt the morals of the good nations:
Between them and others, fly plots they make.
Innocent citizens’ money to take:
From banks they find out your real account,
Then have you indicted on legal count:
Large fees they charge, to have you surely broke.
Then, to prison you go — what a sad joke!
The white man controls cable and wireless,
Connections by ships with force and duress:
He keeps black races of the world apart,
So to his schemes they may not be smart:
“There shall be no Black Star Line Ships,” he says,
“For that will interfere with our crooked ways:
“I’ll disrupt their business and all their plans,
“So they might not connect with foreign lands.”
Black women are raped by the lordly white,
In colonies, the shame ne’er reaching light:
In other countries abuses are given,
Shocking to morality and God’s Heaven.
Hybrids and mongrels are the open result,
Which the whites give us as shameful insult:
How can they justify this? None can tell;
Yet, crimes of the blacks are rung with a bell.
White men newspapers subsidize and own,
For to keep them on their racial throne:
Editors are slaves to fool the public,
Reporters tell the lie and pull the trick;
The papers support only what they want,
Yet truth, fair play, and justice, daily flaunt:
They make criminals out of honest men,
And force judges to send them to the Pen.
Capitalists buy up all blank space
To advertise and hold the leading place
For to influence public opinion
And o’er Chief-editors show dominion.
The average man is not wise to the scheme,
He, the reformer, must now redeem;
This isn’t a smooth or very easy job,
For, you, of your honor and name, they’ll rob.
The bankers employ men to shoot and kill,
When we interfere with their august will;
They take the savings of deaf, dumb and poor,
Gamble with it here and on foreign shore:
In oil, gold, rum, rubber they speculate,
Then bring their foreign troubles upon the State:
Friends in Government they control at will;
War they make, for others, our sons to kill.
The many foundations of researches,
And the foreign missions and their churches,
Are organized to catch the mild converts
Who don’t understand the way of perverts.
Our wealth when discovered by researchers,
In lands of the Native occupiers
Is surveyed and marked to the river’s rim
Till they dislodge a Premprey or Abd-El-Krim.
It is not freedom from prison we seek;
It is freedom from the big thieves we meet:
All life is now a soulless prison cell,
A wild suspense between heaven and hell:
Selfish, wicked whites have made it so;
To the Author and Finisher we’ll go,
Carrying our sad cares and many wrongs
To Him in prayers and holy songs.
This is the game that is played all around,
Which is sure one day to each race rebound:
The world is gone mad with the money craze,
Leaving the poor man in a gloomy haze:
There must be world reorganization,
To save the masses from exploitation:
The cry is for greater democracy,
A salyation from man’s hypocrisy.
Out in this heartless, bitter oasis
There’s now very little of human bliss;
The cold capitalists and money sharks
Have made life unsafe, like ocean barks.
The once dear, lovely Garden of Eden
Has become the sphere of men uneven;
The good God created but an equal pair,
Now man has robbed others of their share.
Shall there be freedom of liberal thought?
No; the white man has all agencies bought –
Press, pulpit, law and every other thing –
Hence o’er public opinion he reigns king.
This is indisputable, glaring fact;
You may find it out with a little tact.
College tutors and presidents are paid,
So that in universities schemes are laid.
Cleopatra, Empress Josephine,
Were black mongrels like of the Philippine:
Mixtures from black and other races they,
Yet “true” the white man’s history will not say
To those who seek the light of pure knowledge
In the inquiring world, school or college.
Napoleon fell for a Negro woman;
So did the Caesars, and the Great Roman.
Anthony lost his imperial crown
To escape Cleo’s fascinating frown.
This truth the New Negro knows very well,
And to his brothers in darkness he’ll tell.
No one can imprison the brain of man –
That was never intended in God’s plan;
You may persecute, starve, even debase –
That will not kill truth nor virtue efface.
The white man now enjoys his “Vanity Fair”;
He thinks of self and not of others care –
Fratricidal course, that to he’ll doth lead –
This is poison upon which the gentry feed.
Blacks should study physics, chemistry, more,
While the gold God all such sinners adore;
This is no idle prattle talk to you;
It has made the banners red, white and blue.
Out of the clear of God’s Eternity
Shall rise a kingdom of Black Fraternity;
There shall be conquests o’er militant forces;
For as man proposes, God disposes.
Signs of retribution are on every hand:
Be ready, black men, like Gideon’s band.
They may scoff and mock at you today.
But get you ready for the awful fray.
In the fair movement of God’s Abounding Grace
There is a promised hope for the Negro race;
In the sublimest truth of prophecy,
God is to raise them to earthly majesty.
Princes shall come out of Egypt so grand,
The noble black man’s home and Motherland,
The Psalmist spoke in holy language clear,
As Almighty God’s triune will declare.
In their conceit they see not their ruin;
You soldiers of trust, be up and doing!
Remember Belshazzar’s last joyous feast,
And Daniel’s vision of the Great Beast!
“Weighed in the balances and found wanting”
Is the Takel to which they are pointing.
This interpretation of the Prophet
Black men shall never in their dreams forget
The resplendent rays of the morning sun
Shall kiss the Negro’s life again begun;
The music of God’s rhythmic natural law
Shall stir Afric’s soul without Divine flaw.
The perfume from Nature’s rosy hilltops
Shall fall on us spiritual dewdrops.
Celestial beings shall know us well,
For, by goodness, in death, with them we’ll dwell.
With battleship, artillery and gun
White men have put all God’s creatures to run;
Heaven and earth they have often defied,
Taking no heed of the rebels that died.
God can’t be mocked in this daring way,
So the evil ones shall sure have their day.
“You may rob, you may kill, for great fame,”
So says the white man, FOR THIS IS HIS GAME.
Hail! United States of Africa!
Hail! United States of Africa — free!
Hail! Motherland most bright, divinely fair!
State in perfect sisterhood united,
Born of truth: mighty thou shalt ever be.
Hail! Sweet land of our father’s noble kin!
Let joy within thy bounds be ever known;
Friend of the wandering poor, and helpless, thou,
Light to all, such as freedom’s reigns within.
From Liberia’s peaceful western coast
To the foaming Cape at the southern end,
There’s but one law and sentiment sublime,
One flag, and its emblem of which we boast.
The Nigerias are all united now,
Sierra Leone and the Gold Coast, too.
Gambia, Senegal, not divided,
But in one union happily bow.
The treason of the centuries is dead,
All alien whites are forever gone;
The glad home of Sheba is once more free,
As o’er the world the black man raised his head.
Bechuanaland, a State with Kenya,
Members of the Federal Union grand.
Send their greetings to sister Zanzibar,
And so does laughing Tanganyika.
Over in Grand Mother Mozambique,
The pretty Union Flag floats in the air.
She is sister to good Somaliland,
Smiling with the children of Dahomey.
Three lusty cheers for old Basutoland,
Timbuctoo, Tunis and Algeria,
Uganda, Kamerun, all together
Are in the Union with Nyasaland.
We waited long for fiery Morocco,
Now with Guinea and Togo she has come,
All free and equal in the sisterhood,
Like Swazi, Zululand and the Congo.
There is no state left out of the Union –
The East, West, North, South, including Central,
Are in the nation, strong forever,
Over blacks in glorious dominion.
Hail! United States of Africa — free!
Country of the brave black man’s liberty;
State of greater nationhood thou hast won,
A new life for the race is just begun.
Africa for the Africans
Say! Africa for the Africans,
Like America for the Americans:
This the rallying cry for a nation,
Be it in peace or revolution.
Blacks are men, no longer cringing fools;
They demand a place, not like weak tools;
But among the world of nations great
They demand a free self-governing state.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Great Africa wakes;
She is calling her sons, and none forsakes,
But to colors of the nation runs,
Even though assailed by enemy guns.
Cry it loud, and shout it long, hurrah!
Time has changed, so hail! New Africa!
We are now awakened, rights to see;
We shall fight for dearest liberty.
Mighty kingdoms have been truly reared
On the bones of blackmen, facts declared;
History tells this awful, pungent truth,
Africa awakes to her rights forsooth.
Europe cries to Europeans, ho!
Asiatics claim Asia, so
Australia for Australians,
And Africa for the Africans.
Blackmen’s hands have joined now together,
They will fight and brave all death’s weather,
Motherland to save, and make her free,
Spreading joy for all to live and see.
None shall turn us back, in freedom’s name,
We go marching like to men of fame
Who have given laws and codes to kings,
Sending evil flying on crippled wings.
Blackmen shall in groups reassemble,
Rich and poor and the great and humble:
Justice shall be their rallying cry,
When millions of soldiers pass us by.
Look for that day, coming, surely soon,
When the sons of Ham will show no coon
Could the mighty deeds of valor do
Which shall bring giants for peace to sue.
Hurrah! Hurrah! Better times are near;
Let us front the conflict and prepare;
Greet the world as soldiers, bravely true:
“Sunder not,” Africa shouts to you.

Source: http://destee.com/index.php?threads/the-poem-of-marcus-garvey-the-tragedy-of-white-injustice.74856/#post-781869