Black people are becoming aware that their negative self-perception is a result of white attitudes and not of black behavior. The violence of the ghetto is a result of the frustration of black people working within the qualifications which white society sets for meaningful participation. Thus, in a curious way, violence amounts to playing the only role that the established society has left open for the disenfranchised.
Hamilton pointed out that Black Revolution is not a reality, but he did not underestimate the chances for recurrent violence this summer. His gravest apprehension, however, concerned the publicly acknowledged buildup of militaristic means for dealing with urban violence.
"There is no doubt," he commented, "that with the current predictions of renewed violence in the cities, police and the National Guard are being ordered to prepare." What is most frightening about this preparation is, in Hamilton's words, "the escalation of response." He stated that "the response to urban unrest this summer is going to be suppressive and absolute--it's not going to be very pretty."
In all his remarks concerning violence and the corollary development of police militancy, Hamilton ominously added a warning to whites: "When a nation gears itself to deal with its social problems in the manner in which our police forces are doing so, it places in jeopardy not only the civil liberties of blacks, but whites as well."
Hamilton never lacked a rapt audience. His most enthusiastic reception came from the Harvard-Radcliffe Association of African and Afro-American Students and the Harvard Law School Black Students' Association. A natural empathy developed between the black audiences and the black lecturer--pervading ease mixed with a vital excitement.
Hamilton entered the crowded room of the AAAAS meeting and laughingly asked: "Who here is from Chicago?"
As several voices and hands responded in unison, Hamilton quipped, "Well hurry up and come on back. We need you in Chicago, baby."
Even in the informality of his meetings with black students, Hamilton's discussions were serious and his perspective sharp. He spoke critically of the "rhetoric revolution" and the "millennium talk," observing that revolutionary rhetoric was not an answer but an escape from the problems of black people. "That kind of talk can only alienate you people here from the task that has to be done and the job of redressing black political history can't be done without black people like you with all your skills, abilities and imagination."
"We've got to start redefining what radicalism is all about," Hamilton added. "Our problems are radically bad, and their solutions must be radically different from those already proposed. It's going to take more than just radical rhetoric--we are going to need people like you to initiate radical, pragmatic programs of action."
Hamilton's sharp insights and impressive discussion on a wide range of issues beyond those just related to the plight of the black man in America only reinforced the thoughts of many students, particularly the black students, that the need for black instructors at Harvard can no longer be ignored or overlooked. Hamilton's impact on whites and blacks was equally important and impressive, even if for different reasons. "It irks me," one black student commented, "that we see individuals like you once or twice a year, if that often. We need people like you here at Harvard and not just for a visit."
Charles V. Hamilton impressed his audiences here with his ability to conceptualize and articulate the manifold problems and tensions imposed by the American racial dilemma. There was no doubt that Hamilton had done his homework, and he drew often from recent experience outside the classroom. He faced questions directly, often taking them beyond their obvious conclusions, and always with striking candor. To the question of what the white's role is in Black Power politics, Hamilton quickly replied: "The (Kerner) Report speaks to whites, not blacks; what happens as a result of it depends on whites. Your place is in the white community just as ours is in the black community. Your work in the white community--changing the deeply ingrained racism--is as crucial as ours."
Hamilton replied, in one of his few emotional moments here, to a white professor's question as to what academics can do: 'If your ranks can grow and mine can grow, we can affect a rapprochement and try to end this mess." It is indeed unfortunate that there aren't, as one student said, more Charles V. Hamilton's around. His very presence here is a salient indication of the black leadership void which exists in academia as in politics.
With an acute awareness of the crisis to which he spoke--but without the tortured rhetoric of frustration which usually accompanies it--Hamilton has provided crucial and timely answers. But the tension between the rhetoric and the reality--the need for translation of ideas into answers--weighs heavily even on a Charles V. Hamilton. As he said in his last meeting: "I'm tired of just talking.