<html>
<body>
<h2><b>
<a href="http://www.infoshop.org/inews/article.php?story=20050811141418132">
Watts Riot: Aug. 11, 1965: The day oppression
</a>
<a href="http://www.infoshop.org/inews/article.php?story=20050811141418132">
exploded</a></b></h2><font size=3>The riot was a rebellion, a naturally
formed revolution, an unconscious expression of a people who had lived
entire lives, many generations, in a state of enforced unconsciousness.
It was about people who were poor and undereducated, people who had no
motherland or mother tongue or even a history as far as most of them
knew.<br><br>
Aug. 11, 1965: The day oppression exploded<br><br>
Aug. 11, 2005<br><br>
By Walter Mosley<br><br>
Special to the Los Angeles Times<br><br>
What we remember about Watts and its environs that hot summer is not
nearly as important as what we forget.<br><br>
Many of us remember a young man arrested on Aug. 11, 1965, for a crime he
may or may not have committed and the way the streets of Los Angeles
became a war zone. Whole blocks went up in flames. Dozens died. The
National Guard was called out. Five days of violence blazed, and the
whole nation, the whole world, took notice.<br><br>
What we don’t remember, what many of us never really considered, was that
this was a mass political action that had no leaders, no apologists, no
internal critics. The Watts riot was a spontaneous act of a people who
had been oppressed, emasculated and impoverished for too long.<br><br>
The riot was a rebellion, a naturally formed revolution, an unconscious
expression of a people who had lived entire lives, many generations, in a
state of enforced unconsciousness. It was about people who were poor and
undereducated, people who had no motherland or mother tongue or even a
history as far as most of them knew.<br><br>
I was 12 years old that summer. My parents had moved west by then, over
near Fairfax and Pico in West Los Angeles. But on the third night of the
riot, I found myself being driven through parts of town that were rife
with burning, looting and violence. One might think that this would
provide me with an interesting memory of that time. But I don’t find it
particularly enlightening. Violence is merely a symptom of a deeper
malady.<br><br>
The citizens of Watts understood that if a black son was arrested, he was
likely to get brutalized, railroaded, blindsided, humiliated. And that it
didn’t have much to do with whether he was innocent or guilty.<br><br>
And so young people (and some old) poured gasoline into beer bottles,
added a rag and flicker and made a statement that had lain fallow in
their hearts for more years than they had been living, a statement that
had been whispered by ancestors so far back that its first utterance had
been the murmur of slaves.<br><br>
The Watts riot was unity without direction, agreement without
understanding.<br><br>
The Watts riot was a deep-seated anger at injustice that had gone on
unchallenged, that was intended to go on forever. There would be no true
power for black people. They did not deserve a history or a world view or
even a place at most tables. The Watts riot was the product of an
intelligence that was unaware of itself. It was an action that was
artless, unstructured and unplanned.<br><br>
So, what’s so important about this? What lesson could we possibly learn
today from that 40-year-old expression of unrest?<br><br>
Maybe some people reading these words already have an answer. Maybe they
know about the million black men and women languishing in prison
overcrowded, bored and hopeless; they know about the millions more who
are soon to return to the penal system with its punitive rules and
representatives. They know about the gangs that form in the vacuum of
hope. They know about the innocents and soldiers hung out to dry on
foreign soil. They know about the shrinking pot and the empty promises
and the intentions of those in power to keep the status quo.<br><br>
The immediate and mostly unconscious result of the Watts riot was that
some people got a sense of bitter satisfaction while others learned to
fear. But this is not knowledge, not learning. The lesson, for black and
white, was taught but not learned.<br><br>
People all over the world are suffering. They’re angry and disaffected,
lost and staring at TV screens or podiums dominated by religious zealots.
There’s a thought somewhere in their unconsciousness, a word waiting to
be spoken.<br><br>
This is what I am remembering when I think about that hot summer. I am
remembering a future that will be forgotten before we know it has
happened.<br>
Walter Mosley is the author of “Little Scarlet,” a mystery set five days
after the Watts riots.<br><br>
</font><font size=2><b>1965 saw the assassination of Malcolm X and
the<br>
historic Los Angeles Watts Rebellion. Williams, from Cuba in<br>
1965, broadcast this defiant message on Radio Free Dixie</b>:<br><br>
Robert Williams—We are witnessing the beginning of a ferocious<br>
and devastating firestorm. We are living in an age of great<br>
upheaval. We are living in an age of violence and revolution.<br>
We are living in an age where the angry cry of “Freedom!” rises<br>
from every quarter, as the slave rises to challenge the enslaver.<br>
Yes, we see mighty racist America quiver from the impact of a<br>
terrifying shockwave of freedom. Yes, Los Angeles, Los Angeles<br>
is a warning to oppressor racists beasts that they can no longer<br>
enjoy immunity from retribution for their brutal crimes of<br>
violence and oppression of our people. Let them be apprised of<br>
the fight. That we are going to have justice or set the torch to<br>
racist America. The masses of our people want relief from their<br>
misery. They want freedom and justice and they want it now.<br>
Unemployment is greater than before. The Afro-American<br>
is still the last to be hired and the first to be fired. The Afro-<br>
American’s head is still the number one target of the brutal thug<br>
cop’s billy club. The Afro-American is still the number one victim<br>
of racist kangaroo court frame-ups. Our homes and churches are<br>
still being bombed and burned to the ground. We must protect<br>
ourselves. We must defend ourselves. We must meet violence<br>
with violence. Racist and imperialist America has extended<br>
herself too much on the world front. She cannot fight imperialist<br>
wars throughout the world and put down a colonial war at home<br>
simultaneously.<br><br>
My brothers and sisters, the only justice we are going<br>
to get is the justice we take. Times are critical. We are facing<br>
a future wherein the streets shall become like rivers of blood.<br>
Let us be prepared to fight to the death. Let it be known to the<br>
world that we shall meet their sophisticated weapons of violence<br>
with the crude and simple flame of a match. Let us resist tyranny<br>
to the death. Resist, resist, resist! Burn, burn, burn! Death to<br>
the oppressor! Down with the thug cops! To the streets and let<br>
our battle cry be heard around the world! Freedom, freedom,<br>
freedom now or death!<br><br>
</font><x-sigsep><p></x-sigsep>
<font size=3 color="#FF0000">The Freedom Archives<br>
522 Valencia Street<br>
San Francisco, CA 94110<br>
(415) 863-9977<br>
</font><font size=3>
<a href="http://www.freedomarchives.org/" eudora="autourl">
www.freedomarchives.org</a></font></body>
</html>