It was the wisdom of decades speaking—years spent fighting in the ring and evolving outside it. By the time he retired from boxing, he was nearly forty years old, his body and face ravaged by ring wars with Joe Frazier, George Foreman, and Ken Norton. By then he had become an American icon, more than fulfilling his youthful assertions that he was “the greatest.” As an athlete and man he was in a class of his own, and it is unlikely that any sportsman will ever duplicate his worldwide fame and importance. But after all the matches won and lost, all the honors received and forgotten, how many times must he have returned to those days in the early years of his career, when his body was as lithe as a dancer’s and his face unmarked in its innocence, remembering the wise man who spoke with such confidence and passion, telling him about Allah’s plan for his life. For about two years, Malcolm X counseled and spiritually guided the young boxer, instructing him on the evil ways of the world but also, more importantly, convincing him to love himself and his people. They were like blood brothers then, Malcolm X and Cassius Clay, and briefly it must have seemed as if the world was theirs. That it ended violently and tragically does not diminish what they once had.
From the first, theirs was an improbable relationship. The brash Olympic champion who spoke in rhymes and the ex-con disinterested in sports appeared to have nothing in common, save ego and an attraction to center stage. But perhaps they sensed some deeper kindred spirit—or some void that the other filled. Cassius loved magic and needed a powerful friend and mentor. Tall, strong, articulate, Malcolm talked of dreams and Armageddon, trafficking in the supernatural and the spiritual, promising a topsy-turvy new world where the racial order would be reversed. All he asked for in return—at least at first—was faith. It appealed to the dreamer in Cassius and validated the stories and fantasies he had heard from his father.
But what attracted Malcolm to Clay? In the early 1960s, the media treated the boxer as an adolescent clown, a bloviating athlete who lacked modesty, propriety, and dignity, the very traits that characterized Malcolm. Yet Malcolm knew that a wise man could play a clown. He looked behind the fa?ade, seeing that even if Clay acted like a clown, he never behaved like a subservient one. He defined himself, asserting strength and pride, proclaiming his worth as a boxer and a black man. And most crucially, he attracted an audience whenever he spoke. If Malcolm did not immediately recognize Clay’s political potential, if he did not sense right away that he could mobilize his unique celebrity, he soon grasped that fundamental reality. At a time when Malcolm’s ties to Elijah Muhammad were dissolving, Cassius, with the media he commanded and the followers he attracted, was a prize to be won.
In the year and a half before Cassius won the heavyweight crown, Malcolm consciously molded him into Muhammad Ali. Cassius adopted Malcolm’s rhetoric, mimicked his delivery, and copied his cool, regal pose. He became, as a few journalists dimly sensed, a clone of his mentor. Always adept at imitation, Clay could slide into his Cassius X persona at a moment’s notice, dispensing Malcolm’s ideas and words like a seasoned actor. But after Cassius defeated Sonny Liston for the title, at the instant when his political value to Malcolm was the highest, the preacher lost his convert. Malcolm may have shaped Muhammad Ali, but Elijah Muhammad anointed Cassius as Muhammad Ali.
Ali followed Elijah for a decade, but their relationship was never as intimate as the one he shared with Malcolm. Malcolm, Ali came to realize, anticipated the course of the future. And although it took him ten years, Ali eventually followed the political and religious path that Malcolm had just begun to pioneer when he was assassinated.
In time, Ali understood that who he was and who he became were the results of his friendship with Malcolm. He knew that without Malcolm X, he would never have become Muhammad Ali.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
From start to finish, researching and writing Blood Brothers was a fulfilling and enjoyable collaborative journey. We, the authors, have our names on the title page, but we are also acutely aware of all the people that helped us along the way. At Fletcher & Company, Don Lamm, Sylvie Greenberg, and Christy Fletcher helped shape the book by offering wise advice and endless support. The team at Fletcher & Company helped us find the perfect home at Basic Books. Everyone at Basic Books has been incredibly enthusiastic. Publisher Lara Heimert had a clear vision of the book and gave us a brilliant critique of the draft. Asking crucial questions, Lara challenged us to sharpen our ideas and wisely encouraged us to tighten the narrative. Line editor Brandon Proia was an invaluable reader who improved every page. Copy editor Erin Granville and production editor Sandra Beris refined the manuscript and kept us on pace. And associate editor Leah Stecher fielded our countless questions deftly and (we think) with a smile. We couldn’t imagine a better team.