Creative Tension and the Visual Dramatization of Injustice in
Social Reform Movements
The following passages are taken from the book MARTIN LUTHER KING,
JR. ON LEADERSHIP (Donald T. Phillips, 1998: Warner Books). They
demonstrate a key principle of social reform movements, namely, that the
injustice which the movement is fighting must be exposed visually to the
culture which is unwilling to confront it. This exposure of the injustice
brings a tension to the foreground which is already there, though hidden,
and which those complicit in the injustice will attribute to those who fight
The parallel to the pro-life movement is simple. The evil of abortion must be
graphically exposed, and the tension and horror which that creates is what is
needed to move people to action. -- Fr. Frank Pavone
"Martin was extremely impressed with the initiative of the people in
Albany and pointed out that such demonstrations served 'the purpose of
bringing the issues out in the open.' It was a concept that was quickly
picked up and imitated. 'Our reliance on mass demonstrations,' Martin later
noted, '[was] intended to isolate and expose the evil-doer,' " (127).
"It was in this vein that Martin and his team employed a strategic and
creative utilization of the media to get the movement's mission across. Massive
publicity generated sympathy for people who were attacked and brutalized -
whether it was Freedom Riders being attacked and beaten in Anniston or children
being bitten in Birmingham by police dogs." (130).
"Everyone agreed that if the SCLC went to Birmingham, the ultimate goal would
not be to desegregate the city, but to 'awaken the moral conscience of America'
and produce federal legislation that would force desegregation everywhere.'
Now that was a noble mission around which everyone could rally. And,
indeed, a consensus was reached to move forward. Discussion then turned to
creating a detailed plan of action - which the group collectively named 'Project
C' - the 'C' standing for 'Confrontation.'
Remembering that in Albany they had scattered their efforts too widely,
the group chose to focus on one facet only - the business community rather than
the city government. 'We decided to center the Birmingham struggle,' wrote
Martin, 'on the economic power structure [because] we knew that. . . Negroes had
enough buying power to make the difference between profit and loss in almost any
Specific goals were then proposed and agreed upon for Project C. The
primary objectives included desegregation of department store facilities and all
other public facilities; establishment of fair hiring practices for local
business and government; dismissal of all charges against demonstrators; and
creation of a biracial committee to monitor and enforce the implementation of
Next, a precise timetable for action was defined - along with specific
methods and techniques to be employed, such as mass meetings, boycotts and
sit-ins, mass marches, and enough arrests to fill up the jails in and around
Birmingham. Overall, the plan was designed to precipitate a crisis or 'a
creative tension,' as Martin liked to call it, that would force the recalcitrant
majority to the negotiating table.
At that point, it was time to begin the implementation phase. First, the
direct action team was deployed to Birmingham. Once there, its members
established a general office at the Gaston Motel, Room 30. And central
headquarters for the entire local movement was designated to be the conveniently
located 16th St. Baptist Church on the edge of downtown.
The team immediately set to work on a variety of fronts. They reviewed
all the local laws regarding marching, picketing, and demonstrating. They
carried out preliminary detailed footwork involving such things as investigating
the department stores that were to be targeted - right down to the number of
stools at each lunch counter. Preliminary groundwork was also laid for
mobilizing the media. Part of the SCLC's strategy here was to have local,
national, and international news coverage - especially television coverage - of
everything that happened in Birmingham." (156-8).
"He also pointed out that 'long years of experience' taught him that specific
goals could be achieved when four things occur: 1) nonviolent demonstrators go
into the streets to exercise their constitutional rights; 2) racists resist by
unleashing violence against them; 3) Americans of conscience in the name of
decency demand federal intervention and legislation; 4) the administration,
under intense pressure, initiates measures of immediate intervention and
remedial legislation," (163).
"One of the most significant facts of the historic March on Washington was
that one quarter of the people gathered together were white - marking their
first large-scale participation in the civil rights movement. They had been
moved by the events of Birmingham - and so had the rest of the nation. That
summer, President Kennedy proposed to Congress the most comprehensive,
far-reaching civil rights legislation ever conceived. By the fall, schools
across the South were integrating without even the slightest hint of violence.
The goal Martin's team had set prior to Birmingham - to 'awaken the moral
conscience of America' and produce federal legislation that would force
desegregation everywhere - had been achieved. But the price was high." (172-3).
"A few weeks later (on February 1), in a well-coordinated event, Martin was
arrested along with 150 other demonstrators as they marched from Brown Chapel to
downtown Selma. Taken to the city jail on the charge of parading without a
permit, Martin refused to accept bail. 'I must confess,' he said as he was
carted off, 'this is a deliberate attempt to dramatize conditions in this city,
state, and community.' Martin and Ralph Abernathy were placed in a cell together
where, for the first two days, they fasted, prayed, meditated, and sang hymns"
"It wasn't long thereafter that reactions by white segregationists to black
demonstrations became more intense. Just prior to the first night march in Selma
on February 18, for instance, camera lenses were sprayed with black paint so
that they could not record the violence" (202).
"On Bloody Sunday national television networks broke into regularly scheduled
programming and flashed across the country the violent and bloody scenes from
Selma's Edmund Pettus Bridge. Almost immediately, the public's wrath came down
on local government and the state of Alabama. A defiant George Wallace, however,
responded by banning night marches and labeling the SCLC staff 'professional
agitators with pro-Communist affiliations.'
The SCLC's response was to send out a call to people of good will asking
them not only to show up in Selma but to deluge the federal government with
telegrams asking for intervention. Then Martin released a statement, which said,
in part: 'In the vicious maltreatment of defenseless citizens of Selma, where
old women and young children were gassed and clubbed at random, we have
witnessed an eruption of the disease of racism which seeks to destroy all
As people from all over the nation, led by hundreds of white clergymen
and nuns, began converging on Selma, the SCLC laid plans for another
Selma-to-Montgomery march to commence on Tuesday. Martin King then gathered the
entire SCLC executive team together for support and counsel. It was clear that a
decision had to be made as to whether or not to march. Everyone agreed that it
was Martin's decision alone to make. While he consulted with both his staff and
leaders in the SNCC, the pressure not to march became intense. A court order
banning the march was issued by a federal judge and President Johnson lobbied
King to alter his plans. When Assistant Attorney General John Doar visited Selma
to personally express the president's wishes, Martin recalled the conversation:
'He very strongly urged us not to march. I listened attentively. I explained why
I felt it was necessary to seek a confrontation with injustice on Highway 80. I
asked them to try to understand that I would rather die on the highway in
Alabama than make a butchery of my conscience.' And Martin later wrote '[I] held
on to my decision despite the fact that many people were concerned about
breaking the court injunction issued by one of the strongest and best judges in
the South,' (209-10).
"As a matter of fact, one of the reasons Martin marched was to create drama -
and a sense of urgency. Marching, he said in 1966, was 'part of a program to
dramatize and evil, to mobilize the forces of good will, and to generate
pressure and power for change.' 'I'm still convinced,' he said on another
occasion, 'that there is nothing more powerful to dramatize a social evil than
the tramp, tramp of marching feet" (227).
"Over then next several months, the SCLC-CCCO coalition organized block
meetings that pulled together tenants of various apartment buildings. In one
building near Martin's apartment, conditions were so deplorable that he and the
staffers simply took over. They collected rent money from the occupants and
began to remedy many conditions that had long been neglected - such as repairing
faulty heating, picking up trash, and exterminating rats. When the building's
landlord protested, Martin essentially ignored him. And by the time a court
order was secured to stop the action, most of the repairs had already been made.
When asked how he could break the law so blatantly, Martin simply replied: 'The
moral question is far more important than the legal one.'
In order to dramatize the slum situation, the SCLC staff held press
conferences in the middle of the tenements so that cameras could show the
degradation to the outside world" (232).
"But over the next few days, it seemed as though all of white Chicago turned
its anger toward Martin Luther King, Jr. Politicians, the press, and members of
the clergy attacked him. He was to blame for all the violence. He was the
agitator, they charged. End the marching now, they demanded.
Martin quickly responded to all the criticism at a mass rally. 'You want
us to stop marching?' he asked. '[Then] make justice a reality. . . . I'm tired
of marching for something that should have been mine at birth,' he went on to
say. 'If you want a moratorium on demonstrations, put a moratorium on injustice.
. . . I don't march because I like it. I march because I must, and because I'm a
" 'We set out to precipitate a crisis situation that must open the door to
negotiation,' he said of this step in the process. 'I am not afraid of the words
'crisis' and 'tension.' Innate in all life, and all growth, is tension. Only in
death is there an absence of tension. To cure injustices, you must expose them
before the light of human conscience and the bar of public opinion, regardless
of whatever tensions that exposure generates. Injustices must be brought out
into the open where they cannot be evaded' " (251).
Following is an extended passage that notes how the creative tension
unleashed in Birmingham, and captured by national media, energized the movement
and achieved its goal. (pp. 164 - 171)
So it was that Martin Luther King, Jr., and a handful of staff members
entered Birmingham, Alabama, to change the course of American history -
armed only with a set of goals, a detailed plan of action, and a
determination to succeed.
The campaign officially began on April 3, 1963, with the implementation of a
full-fledged economic boycott coupled with a few days of carefully timed and
coordinated lunch counter sit-ins at five downtown stores. "Being prepared for a
long struggle," Martin later explained, "we felt it best to begin modestly, with
a limited number of arrests each day. By rationing our energies in this manner,
we would help toward the buildup and drama of a growing campaign."
Steadily, the demonstrations grew more pronounced with each passing day. On
April 6, a small group of protesters were arrested and hauled off in paddy
wagons after a peaceful march to city hall. There were also a series of sit-ins
at the public library and kneel-ins at carefully selected white churches. Then,
when the effects of the Easter economic boycott began to be felt, business
leaders began to complain to city officials. In response, an injunction was
obtained on April 10 ordering the cessation of all demonstrations until the
arguments could be heard in court.
Martin then assembled his team to consider the injunction. After several
hours of discussion in Room 30 of the Gaston Motel, the group decided to disobey
the court order. It marked the first time that the movement would strategically
and intentionally defy the courts -- but it would not be the last. Martin then
stunned the opposition by holding a press conference to announce the decision.
"[It is] obvious to us," he said, "that the courts of Alabama [have] misused the
judicial process in order to perpetuate injustice and segregation." The group
had also decided to hold a march on Good Friday, April 12, "because of its
symbolic significance." At that time, Martin said, he and Ralph Abernathy would
"present our bodies as personal witnesses in this crusade." Later, at that
night's mass meeting, he vowed to the cheering crowd that "Injunction or no
injunction, we're going to march. Here in Birmingham, we have reached the point
of no return. Now they will know that an injunction can't stop us."
But shortly after that statement was made, a crisis developed that had the
potential to halt the entire Birmingham movement. Word arrived from Harry
Belafonte in New York that bail bond funds were depleted. And with dozens of
demonstrators languishing in jail, renewed pressure was placed on Martin to hit
the campaign fund-raising trail. At another hastily called meeting of the staff
at the Gaston Motel, Martin was advised by his team that he should not go to
jail, that money needed to be raised, and that he was the only one who could do
Then came a defining moment in the life of Martin Luther King, Jr., and the
American civil rights movement. Without speaking, he stood up and went back to
his own bedroom to be alone for a few minutes. Upon his return, he was no longer
dressed in his black suit, but instead was wearing a pair of blue jeans and a
work shirt. "I don't know what will happen," he told the members of his team. "I
don't know where the money will come from. But I'm going to jail."
On Good Friday, April 12, Martin, Ralph Abernathy, and a large group of
demonstrators began their march on downtown Birmingham. Within five blocks, they
were met by Police Commissioner Bull Connor and a large contingent of his
officers. The protesters were informed they were under arrest for violating the
recent court injunction and then were promptly loaded into paddy wagons. Upon
arrival at the Birmingham jail, everyone was locked up together except Martin,
who was put by himself in a dark cell without a mattress, blanket, or pillow. He
was not allowed to make any phone calls and his lawyers, who were blocked by
Connor, were not allowed in to see him.
Wyatt Walker, incensed at the way Martin was being treated, sent a telegram
to President Kennedy urging him to intercede. A few days later, after a series
of phone calls between movement leaders and representatives of the federal
government, President Kennedy called Coretta personally and assured her that her
husband was safe and would be calling her from the jail shortly. Within a half
hour, Martin was given a pillow and mattress by his jailers and then escorted to
a telephone where a call was placed to his wife.
After reassuring Coretta that he was okay, and hearing from her that the
president had intervened in his behalf, Martin's spirits began to pick up. He
was soon taken back to his cell and given a copy of the Birmingham News
to read up on the local news. In addition to several accounts of recent events,
the paper contained a statement issued by eight white clergymen who voiced
objections to the demonstrations.
While commending the police and condemning King, they urged the
African-American community to cease demonstrations and work through the courts
instead. These were all objections and criticisms Martin had heard before but,
generally, he had little time to sit down and compose responses. However, being
in solitary confinement with nothing else to do, he started writing a reply to
the white clergymen in the margins of the newspaper.
"While confined here in the Birmingham city jail, I came across your recent
statement calling our present activities 'unwise and untimely,' " he began. "I
would like to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and
reasonable terms . . . ."
Martin then stated in some detail that his team "did not move irresponsibly
into direct action," and he described the technique as "a type of constructive
nonviolent tension that is necessary for growth. You may well ask," he said,
"'Why direct action? Why sit-ins, marches, etc.? Isn't negotiation a better
path?' You are exactly right in your call for negotiation . . . . Direct action
seeks to create such a crisis and establish such creative tension that a
community that has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the
issue .... So the purpose of direct action," Martin concluded, "is to create a
situation so crisis-packed that it will inevitably open the door to
Toward the end of the letter, Martin also appealed to the conscience of the
white clergymen. "I had hoped," he lectured them, "that the white moderate would
understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice, and
that when they fail to do this they become dangerously structured dams that
block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would
understand that the present tension of the South is merely a necessary phase of
the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, where the Negro passively
accepted his unjust plight, to a substance-filled positive peace, where all men
will respect the dignity and worth of human personality."
And he went on to say: "Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The
urge for freedom will eventually come .... In spite of my shattered dreams of
the past, I came to Birmingham with the hope that the white religious leadership
of this community would see the justice of our cause, and with deep moral
concern, serve as the channel through which our just grievances would get to the
power structure. I had hoped that each of you would understand. But again I have
Martin concluded his statement with a couple of paragraphs commending the
clergymen, and this eloquent statement of optimism: "I have no despair about the
future. I have no fear about the outcome of our struggle in Birmingham, even if
our motives are presently misunderstood. We will reach the goal of freedom in
Birmingham because the goal of America is freedom. Abused and scorned though we
may be, our destiny is tied up with the destiny of America."
First published in a small pamphlet, more than a million copies of Martin
King's Letter from Birmingham Jail were quickly distributed across the
nation. As such, it became a key communication expressing the goals and
philosophy of the American civil rights movement. More than that, however, its
basis in the goodness of man, along with its eloquence, served to inspire and
motivate many people to the cause.
His imprisonment, however, had slowed the Birmingham demonstrations to a
crawl. People had gone eleven days without their leaders and no one was taking
any action on their own initiative. Then, on April 22, Martin, Ralph, and the
other protesters were tried and convicted of violating the injunction banning
all protests. The judge sentenced them to five days in jail and a $50 fine. By
this time, however, Harry Belafonte had raised enough bond money to bail out the
movement's leaders. And Martin, realizing that he needed to rejuvenate the
movement, paid the bond and instructed his lawyers to appeal the conviction.
The first thing Martin did upon his release was call his team together to
regroup. During that conference, they decided to "pick up the action because the
press is leaving" by strategically setting out to recruit more troops. There was
only one problem, however. Nearly all the local adults who were willing to
participate were already in jail. As Wyatt Walker remembered, "We had scraped
the bottom of the barrel of adults who could go." The team then debated the idea
of recruiting high school students to help "fill the jails." In the end, a
consensus was reached to move forward on that plan.
So the direct action team went out to Birmingham's black high schools, talked
to students, and circulated leaflets. While Martin was hesitant about the
strategy, Ralph Abernathy later called the decision to bring the children into
the protests "an act of wisdom, divinely inspired."
On May 2, the time set for the children to march, a principal at one high
school locked the gates in an attempt to prevent the students from leaving. But
hundreds of young people scaled the fences and headed toward the 16th Street
Baptist Church where the protest was to begin. In addition, many hundreds of
younger, grade-school-aged children showed up to participate.
Three waves of the youngsters were sent out in a coordinated effort led by
Andrew Young and James Bevel. They were met by Bull Connor, who, this time, had
not only an army of officers, but police dogs, fire hoses, and an armored tank.
As the first group of children were led to the paddy wagons, they began singing
"Ain't Gonna Let Nobody Turn Us Around" and "We Shall Overcome."
But the second and third waves had a different fate. As the group moved
toward the policemen, they were shouting, "We want freedom. We want freedom."
Connor, whose patience finally had run out, simply said: "Let 'em have it." With
that command, firemen turned on hoses with pressure so high it actually stripped
the bark off trees. Adults and high school students were smashed against
buildings and washed down the streets. Children were viciously attacked and
bitten by the unleashed German shepherd police dogs. Some adults became so
enraged that they began to throw bricks and bottles -- a breach of the
nonviolent covenant. When that happened, the police surged forward with hilly
clubs in hand and beat, kicked, and mauled everyone in sight. The crowd finally
broke and rushed back to the church. "Look at those niggers run," Bull Connor
The arrogant segregationist police chief, however, had made a fatal mistake.
He had unleashed his power on innocent victims in front of national news
cameras. The next day, the media had a field day -- splashing pictures of police
dogs biting children, hoses knocking down teenagers, and officers brutally
beating adults. There was no lack of participants in Birmingham after those
photos appeared. Even President Kennedy said the images made him "sick."
The SCLC's conscious and skillful manipulation of the mass media had worked,
as the eyes of the nation were now focused on Birmingham. As the press followed
the next several days of marches, they reported every detail, including the fact
that, at the height of the demonstrations, nearly three thousand people had been
arrested -- and that Connor had no place to put them. According to Martin, it
was "the first time in the civil rights movement that we were able to put into
effect the Gandhian principle of "Fill up the jails."'
On May 5, another defining moment in the modern era of nonviolent direct
action occurred. As more than one thousand people headed toward the Birmingham
jail on a prayer pilgrimage, they halted upon encountering Bull Connor's men.
Martin, who was coordinating events on a walkie-talkie, watched the leaders in
the front of the crowd kneel and pray. When they rose to move forward, Connor
ordered his men to turn on the hoses. But the firemen just stood there, some
with tears in their eyes. "Dammit!" yelled Connor. "Turn on the hoses!" As the
demonstrators marched slowly forward, the ranks of firemen and policemen parted
and allowed the young people to proceed. "It was one of the most fantastic
events of the Birmingham story," Martin recalled. "I saw there, for the first
time, the pride and the power of nonviolence."
With the world's media focused on Birmingham; with Connor's forces no longer
willing to fight back; with the economic boycott now taking a significant toll
on business; and with the jails filled -- Birmingham's officials finally decided
to contact black leaders and open negotiations. Accordingly, Martin, Andrew
Young, and Wyatt Walker met secretly with white leaders at a private residence
to begin hammering out a settlement.