Why We Can't Wait

In Chapter Three, King recounts the strategy behind, and planning before, the 1963 civil rights campaign in Birmingham, Alabama.

In the initial paragraphs, King provides a more detailed description of the political and social conditions in Birmingham that made it the perfect place to use nonviolent direct action. As a city, Birmingham seemed to exist in a vacuum that ignored all the significant legal foundations of equality in the U.S. King asks the reader to imagine the life of an African-American baby born in Birmingham in order to dramatize the impact of this backwardness on African-Americans.

King zeroes in on the role of Commissioner of Public Safety Eugene “Bull” Connor, a powerful figure in city government, in oppressing African-Americans in defiance of the federal government. The hypothetical African-Americanchild in Birmingham would grow up in “violence and brutality” created by people like Connor, extending all the way to the lynching of African-Americans and the bombings of black churches and homes (47). In short, the Birmingham in which this child grew up would be one dominated by fear.

Whites who tried to abide by federal law or who inadvertently violated segregationist laws were also targets. While some whites were fearful of change and felt guilt, others, supposedly more moderate, also failed to do the right thing out of fear. According to King, the “ultimate tragedy of Birmingham was not the brutality of the bad people, but the silence of the good people” (48). The result for this child would be a city devoid of hope and justice, one that teaches that child inferiority. Birmingham, argues King,is “the most segregated city in America” (49).

Despite the oppressiveness of Birmingham, African-Americans had already begun organizing themselves politically. According to King, the biggest challenge to the power structure in Birmingham in 1963 was Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth’s Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights (ACMHR), which he helped organize in 1956 following the Montgomery bus boycotts. An affiliate of King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), the ACMHR became a powerful force for change in Birmingham. After they legally challenged segregation in public recreation facilities and won, the city shut down these spaces to avoid integration. ACMHR helped organize support for Miles College students to boycott stores that posted Jim Crow signs and refused to hire or promote blacks, resulting in a 40% decrease in business for these stores (50).

King and his cohort at the SCLC watched Shuttlesworth with interest and admired the commitment Shuttlesworth showed even after being jailed and bombed for his actions. In May 1962, the SCLC discussed support for the ACMHR in a nonviolent direct-action campaign in Birmingham, which was designated as the site for the 1962 SCLC annual convention as well. Just the rumor of a possible collaboration caused concern for Birmingham business owners, who “concluded they would have to do something drastic to forestall large-scale protests” (51).

After representatives of the merchants agreed to remove Jim Crow signs and promised to support an ACMHR lawsuit, Shuttlesworth called a halt to the boycotts. Despite Connor’s threats to block press from out of town, the convention took place in September as planned. As Shuttlesworth had feared, however, the Jim Crow signs went back up after the convention concluded. In concert with the SCLC, the ACMHR decided to proceed with the civil-rights campaign in Birmingham.

Shuttlesworth and the SCLC believed a successful effort in Birmingham would be hard but had the potential to “break the back of segregation all over the nation” (53) and provide national momentum for the movement. The importance of the campaign meant planning had to be meticulous, so the SCLC went on a retreat to plan. One of the mistakes in Albany, Georgia, had been the failure to focus on one specific area of segregation. In Birmingham, the effort would be more focused; the business community would be the target because the buying power of African-Americans was big enough to be a threat if withdrawn. Desegregating lunch counters would be of especial focus because of their symbolic importance.

Two weeks later, King and his key SCLC staff personally went to Birmingham to confer with the ACMHR board. They initially decided to launch their campaign near Easter (April 14) because it was a big shopping season for Birmingham merchants. That timeline would allow for six weeks to organize the African-American community. Later, they learned this date was too close to the March 5 mayoral election. Two moderate segregationists and Bull Connor would be running. The optics of demonstrations in such a race would make the civil-rights campaign a “political football,” so the organizers decided to postpone their demonstrations (56).In the intervening time, Reverend Wyatt Walker, King’s executive assistant, did more preparatory work and the organizations recruited 250 people willing to stay in jail if arrested (57).

The SCLC and ACMHR postponed the demonstrations again when the mayoral race went to a run-off between a moderate and Connor. Although this timeline still left open the possibility of demonstrations near the Easter season, the schedule was tight. King and the SCLC feared losing momentum by leaving the volunteers in Birmingham hanging, but he felt they had no choice. King and the SCLC began organizing financial and political support nationally from individuals and other civil rights and faith-based organizations. Actor-activist Harry Belafonte organized people and money in New York. Across the nation, similar efforts unfolded, including one rally by the Western Christian Leadership Conference that raised a record-breaking $75,000 at a rally for the SCLC.

The mayoral run-off occurred on April 2. 65 of the 250 volunteers to be jailed in Birmingham turned out the next day to begin the demonstrations in Birmingham.