Martin Luther King
By
Donna M. Seckrater
Spring 2003
(2006) CSUSB English Composition Graduate Student
(2002) BA in English, Literature emphasis, English Honors
from CSUSB
(1971) AA Music from San Bernardino Valley College
Seven years as a Lutheran Elementary Education teacher
powerful response to the April 12, 1963 public statement from eight Birmingham clergymen
denouncing the peaceful demonstrations headed by King, which lead to his arrest in
Montgomery, Alabama. Written during the course of his eleven day detention in the
Birmingham city jail, the letter’s power is rhetorically formed, effectively “constructed,”
Aristotle’s might say, by efficiently employing the three appeals – logos, pathos, and ethos.
Utilizing this trinity of appeals, King shapes his letter around the classical argumentative
format of exordium, narratio, partitio, confirmatio, refutatio, and peroratio, though he
addresses five topics within his lengthy letter rather than only one.
In the course of this essay, I will reflect on the audience receiving King’s letter, briefly state
their points of objection, and discuss Dr. King’s approach in forming a response to the
eight Southern clergymen, considering the rhetorical elements he employs which ultimately
empower his words and accomplish his effort to persuade. I will attempt to most effectively
evaluate his epistle by working through the text from beginning to end, which seems the
logical order – as it is read.
The clergymen consist of two Catholics, a Rabbi, two Methodists, an Episcopalian, a
Presbyterian, and a Baptist. They declare agreement with “certain local Negro Leadership”
calling for negotiation of racial issues, yet express concern over the “unwise and untimely
demonstrations” and “outsiders” leading them. The southern clergymen call for the
responsible use of “proper channels” -- the courts, not the streets --to resolve the racial
concerns, and do not believe “extreme measures are justified in Birmingham” (5). They
“commend the community as a whole, and the local news media and the law enforcement
officials” on their calm manner and handling of the demonstrations (6). These eight men of
the cloth close appealing for “both our white and Negro citizenry to observe the principles
of law and order and common sense” (7).
The rhetorical power of Martin Luther King’s letter lies in his ability to establish credibility.
He repeatedly alludes to outside authorities, reminds the readers of his motives and
values, appeals to the reader’s goodwill by explaining he is answering their concerns, and
calls on God’s intervention. His words establish him to be an intelligent, virtuous, humble
patriot and man of God. His ethos renders his pathos sincere.
Of the utmost rhetorical concern is the audience receiving the letter. Stanley Fish holds the
premise that all speech is socially situated, “interpretive communities” share meaning.
Throughout his text, King uses language of shared meaning with awareness. King seeks to
first connect himself with the readers and establish good will, building an appeal to ethos.
“My Dear Fellow Clergymen” -- King reminds them of their sameness, invoking their bond of
ministry and faith in the Judeo-Christian God. In the course of his letter, King brings this
emphasis to the surface again and again, for by nature, it establishes his strongest
argument, binding logic and truth to religious ethics and emotion while establishing
meaning.
Reminding them he is “confined,” – initiating the parallel he constructs between himself and
Paul of Tarsus, who is imprisoned for his faith – King begins building his argument against
his “unwise and untimely” activities, seeking to refute each issue they raise in their
statement. Always presenting a humble and non-aggressive demeanor, King begins to
establish credentials of good will: “But since I feel that you are men of genuine good will
and that your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I want to try to answer your statement in
what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms” (7). In the process of building his ethical
character, King also works to prove the opposition’s facts are incorrect, which, in turn,
means their logic is flawed. Addressing their claim he is one of the “outsiders coming in,”
King explains he is serving as president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference,
and is responding to his “promise” to be part of a “nonviolent direct action program.” For
King to breech his promise would show him not to be a man of his word, of low ethics. King
explains, “I was invited here. I am here because I have organizational ties here” (9). King
breaks down the basis of their logic by replacing it with his own, by defining “outsider.” King
employs what Alex Irvine calls in his online rhetorical and historical “Letter” discussion, an
“argument by redefinition.” King’s ties now establish he is not an “outsider,” though he does
not reside in Birmingham.
Deepening his ethical position by invoking early prophets and the Apostle Paul, King states
he is here because of “injustice,” and as Paul “carried the gospel of Jesus Christ,” King
feels “compelled to carry the gospel of freedom.” Paul, responding to quarrels within the
early church, writes letters to the churches in Galatia and Corinth. King connects in his
words, “Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid” (10).
King points to his sense of duty and stresses the importance of unity against injustice and
the importance of unity within the United States:
I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. […] I cannot sit idly by.
[…] Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable
network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly,
affects all indirectly. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an
outsider anywhere within its bounds. (11)
His use of the words “caught” and “inescapable” reflect there is no way out of this “network
of mutuality” – this set of connections. King’s metaphor, “tied in a single garment of
destiny,” reinforces they are clothed in fated unity. It must come to be.
Attacking injustice, he introduces his argument of “cause and effect,” as Irvine names it.
Dr. King reminds the clergy that while they condemn the demonstrations, they show no
concern over what ultimately caused them – an unfair human condition. He sets forth to
show why demonstrations are taking place: “The city’s white power structure left the Negro
community with no alternative” (12). King’s appeal to logic explains this truth.
King first reinforces the “nonviolent” nature of the demonstrations, detailing the four steps
of a nonviolent campaign: collection of “facts” to determine if injustices are present;
negotiation; self-purification (quite Biblical; my notation); direct action. King explains all
these steps have been followed in Birmingham, and “facts” indicate that “racial injustice
engulfs this community” (13). He presents examples as proof: Birmingham is the most
segregated city in the United States; it has an “ugly” record of brutality; there is “unjust”
treatment of “Negroes” in the courts – yet the courts are the “proper channels” King is
called to use; there are more “unsolved” bombings of “homes” and “churches” than in any
other city – why unsolved? Homes and churches express refuge. Not so for the black
community of Birmingham in 1963. Based on these “hard, brutal facts,” the “Negro leaders”
tried to “negotiate with the city fathers,” but their “good-faith” negotiation was again and
again “refused.” King stresses the denied negotiation Thus, injustice was the cause,
nonviolent demonstrations became the effect. The “opportunity” to meet with Birmingham
business leaders finally came, King states, and “certain promises were made by the
merchants” (14). He tells the clergy, based on “these promises,” the Alabama Christian
Movement for Human Rights agreed to halt demonstrations. The promises caused the civil
rights leaders to effect a moratorium. We are already clear that King holds a promise to be
a moral event; they are not meant to be broken.
Yet, he reminds the clergy this reality is nothing new. They became, “as in so many past
experiences,” “victims of a broken promise.” King’s imagery of shattered optimism echoes
the past bombing of churches and homes when he declares, “our hope had been blasted,
and the shadow of deep disappointment settled upon us.” The “shadow” settling upon them
brings to mind their ghostlike or phantom form, an intangible form, a form of inferior
position trailing behind them – the light of hope is again shaded.
King establishes their nonviolent demonstration was well thought out and was not initiated
on a whim. “We would present our very bodies as a means of laying our case before the
conscience of the local and the national community” (15). “Present our very bodies”
suggests they were an offering for this cause of civil rights -- perhaps a sacrifice. Laying
their case on the “conscience” of the community requires the community to consider their
own ethics. He emphasizes they began a process of “purification” – a term often associated
with religious preparation. In their many workshops on nonviolence, King tells the
clergymen, they asked themselves, “Are you able to accept blows without retaliating?” “Are
you able to endure the ordeal of jail?”(15). Clearly King anticipates some form of violent
response to their action, maybe the strain of imprisonment, and he stresses to these
church leaders they prepared themselves to willingly accept penalties for their actions.
Reverend King turns to the Socratic approach of questioning his opposition, agreeing with
their response, and finally, invalidating their words. Why direct action? Why marches? Isn’t
it better to negotiate? Yes – “You are quite right in calling for negotiation. Indeed, this is the
very purpose of direct action” (17). While affirming his opposition to violent tension, King
explains a constructive nonviolent tension is necessary for growth. Having employed the
man’s method, King now evokes Socrates’ name:
Just as Socrates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that
individuals could rise from the bondage of myths and half-truths to the to the unfettered
realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, so must we see the need for nonviolent
gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark depths
of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood. (17)
King calls them to “rise from the bondage of myths and half-truths.” Though “gadflies” are
annoying, they are not harmful, but will draw action, and perhaps allow the black race in
America to “rise from the dark depths […] to the majestic heights.” “Understanding” will help
dispel the “myths and half-truths.” Yet his diction creates ambiguity and allows the reader
to ask: Who is rising -- the creator of half-truths or those who live under half-truths? Those
who assert prejudice or those who live under it? King signals the need to elevate all to
brotherhood. When white America rises above their prejudice, black America will rise to
their just birthright. Reinforcing agreement, good will, and their bond King states, “I
therefore concur with you in your call for negation” (18). He expresses mutual love of “our
beloved Southland,” extending that unity through their sense of “South.”
Continuing his appeal to logos, King addresses their issue on the action being “untimely.”
He reminds them both the outgoing and incoming mayors of Birmingham are segregationist
and “dedicated to maintenance of the status quo.” King address them with an identifying
“my friends.” Logically, it can not be expected to change “without determined legal and
nonviolent pressure” since “it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up
their privileges voluntarily” (19; my emphasis). Humanizing the point he states, “Individuals
may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but […] groups tend to
be more immoral than individuals” (19; my emphasis).
Having meticulously utilized logos and ethos, Reverend King begins his use of pathos. He
presents segregation as a sickness and, based on experience, redefines “wait” to mean
“never.” Offering personal connection by using “we,” King declares, “We know through
painful experience.” King approach becomes sermon like. No action has been “well timed”
from the view of those not suffering from “the disease of segregation.” King uses a
collective “we” in borrowing this oft quoted declaration, “We must come to see […] that
‘justice too long delayed is justice denied’” (20). The delay is evident in his claim they have
waited three hundred forty years for “constitutional God-given rights,” an appeal to
nationalism and their professed faith (21). He articulates the backwardness of America,
graphically observing Asia and Africa are moving forward with jet-like speed,” while “we still
creep at horse-and-buggy pace.” Asia and Africa move toward “political independence”
while “we” move toward “a cup of coffee at a lunch counter.” King proposes, for those who
have not “felt the stinging dart of segregation,” it is easy to say, “Wait.” Reverend King
renders an emotive portrait, evoking sense of family and human justice while employing an
anaphora, “when you,” and cataloging ten lengthy, detailed, descriptive phrases, mimicking
the sense of going on and on – like their wait. King’s readers must “wait” to reach his “then
you will understand.” His language reflects their situation. Images of mobs “lynching your
mothers and fathers,” “drowning your sisters and brothers,” “fighting a degenerating sense
of ‘nobodiness’” (21). King alludes to Psalm 23, relevant to all the clergymen, when he
states, “There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over” (22).
King agrees their willingness to break laws should be of concern, and begins discussion of
just and unjust laws, building a case for moral responsibility over legal responsibility. Citing
St. Augustine, he agrees that “an unjust law is no law at all.” He draws further authority
from St. Thomas Aquinas, who supported God’s law over man’s law – a law is unjust if it is
not rooted in natural law; a just law uplifts humanity while an unjust law degrades humanity.
Segregation degrades humanity and is, therefore, unjust. While King’s “saint” references
are distinctly Christian, his citation of Jewish philosopher Martin Buber’s idea, segregation
demotes people to the status of things, bonds with the rabbi. King tightens his argument:
“Segregation is not only politically, economically and sociologically unsound, it is morally
wrong and sinful” (23). King cites theologian Paul Tillich’s idea that sin is separation, then
asserts segregation existentially represents separation, estrangement, and, thus,
sinfulness (24). Sin is separation, separation is sin – an epanados of thought if not words.
He further defines an unjust law as one the majority creates and binds to the minority, but
does not bind upon itself. King questions a law that is “just on its face and unjust in its
application,” noting his arrest for parading without a permit became unjust when the intent
was actually to maintain segregation (26).
In his support, Reverend King cites past civil disobedience: The Biblical Shadrach,
Meshach, and Abednego, who would not bow down to Nebuchadnezzar – God’s higher law
at issue; early Christians faced hungry lions rather than submit to the Romans unjust laws;
Socrates’ civil disobedience; the Boston Tea Party, our own nation’s fight for freedom.
King observes the “legality” of Adolf Hitler’s Germany and “illegality” of aiding a Jew. King
asserts he would have “aided and comforted my Jewish brothers,” disobeying an unjust law
because aiding and comforting is the Christian thing to do. It is the moral thing to do.
While Aristotle emphasizes reason, Augustine elevates truth over logic. “Confessing” to his
“Christian and Jewish brothers,” King expresses his disappointment in white moderates who
are more “devoted” to “order” than “justice.” King questions the white moderate’s
superficial agreement with his goal but disagreement with direct action: “[they]
paternalistically believe [they] can set the timetable for another man’s freedom […yet] live
by a mythical concept of time and […] constantly advise the Negro to wit for a ‘more
convenient season’” (30). Alluding to Revelation, King questions their shallow
understanding and “lukewarm” acceptance of the goal.
Calling the black community’s past submissive acceptance of injustice “obnoxious negative
peace,” he appeals for injustice to be brought out, openly addressed to allow correction.
He likens injustice to an ugly boil which, to be cured, must be opened up and exposed to
nature’s medicines of air and light.
King then answers the clergy’s judgment that nonviolent action causes violence.
Questioning their logic, he suggests it is like “condemning” the robbed man having money
for the act of the robber; “condemning” Socrates’ commitment to truth for his being forced
to drink hemlock; “condemning” Jesus’ devotion to God’s will for his crucifixion. King’s
emotional appeal to Christ comes only after citing logic. In this way he does not tarnish his
rhetorical position on logic and ethical appeal.
Pointing to the “misconception” that “time” will eventually bring about equal rights, King
asks them to “reject the myth of time,” observing “time itself becomes an ally of the forces
of social stagnation” (33). Reminding the clergymen of America’s national policy of freedom
and democracy, King’s anaphora also affirms immediacy: “Now is the time to make real the
promise of democracy;” “now is the time to lift out national policy from the quicksand of
racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity” (33).
King further addresses cause and effect warning of black nationalist groups who have “lost
faith in America” and advocate violence out of “bitterness and hatred” (34). Unlike
nonviolent protests, these groups will lead to “a frightening racial nightmare” (36). Insisting
oppression must be released, King encourages his nonviolent methods with an anaphora:
“Let him march; let him make prayer pilgrimages; let him go on freedom rides” so they will
not look for release in violence (37). King stresses this is not a threat, but a fact of history –
logic. Still, they are calling it “extremist.”
King then considers his company of “extremists”: Jesus, at the apex, who preached “Love
your enemy, […] do good to them that hate you […] and persecute you;” Paul of Tarsus;
Martin Luther, excommunicated for his moral stand against corruption in the Catholic
church; Pilgrim’s Progress author John Bunyan, imprisoned for nonconformity; Abraham
Lincoln; Thomas Jefferson, who wrote most of the Declaration of Independence.
Establishing moral extremism’s history, King reminds the clergymen of justice; three were
crucified on Calvary as extremists – two for immorality, one for “love, truth, and goodness.”
King heightens his ethical and emotional appeal, and expressing “major disappointment” in
the “white church and its leadership,” King boldly presents what Alex Irvine calls “an indirect
slap at the Southern churches.” While noting a few exceptions, King asserts that white
ministers, priests, and rabbis, who should be “our strongest allies,” are “refusing to
understand” and “misrepresenting its leaders,” remaining “silent behind the anesthetizing
security of stained-glass windows” (42). King anticipated white churches joining their cause
out of deep moral concern: “I have longed to hear white ministers declare: ‘Follow this
decree because integration is morally right and because the Negro is your brother’” (44).
But instead, he tells them, “I have watched white churchmen stand on the sidelines and
mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious trivialities. […] I have heard them say, ‘Those
are social issues, with which the gospel has no real concern’” (44). He chastises the white
church’s failure to live up to the Christian mandate. Invoking the Christian model of the
church as Christ’s body, Kings scolds the southern church as he laments: “Oh! How we
have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and through fear of being
nonconformists” (46). Emphasizing past strength, King reminds the clergy of the early
Christian church’s commitment “to obey God rather than man” (47). He calls the
contemporary church “a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound” and
“archdefender of the status quo” which is “sanctioning” things as they are (48). He reminds
the clergymen the “judgment of God is upon the church,” and questions the spirituality of
the “organized church,” evoking “the true ekklesia and the hope of the world” (50). Greek
for “church,” early Christianity redefines ekklesia as a spiritually bonded community,
excluding any sense of institutional affiliation. An online Ekklesia site explains, “the ekklesia
is to function as an interdependent, ministering community, gathered so that the members
can serve one another, and in this way the individual and community will grow to maturity.”
King clearly exposes that failure in the 1963 Christian community.
Yet, even if they do not “come to the aid of justice,” King affirms America’s goal of freedom
will eventually come to pass (51). “Abused and scorned though we may be, our destiny is
tied up with America’s destiny,” King professes (51). King sees evidence of that “destiny”
through the eyes of their past, where they did “thrive and develop” despite the shame of
slavery. King states his most compelling proof of eventual success lies in what he sees as
the foundation of their destiny, their right as citizens of the United States of America and
the will of their omnipotent God: “We will win our freedom because the sacred heritage of
our nation and the eternal will of God are embodied in our echoing demands” (51). King
calls America’s heritage “sacred,” a religious connotation; God’s will “embodied” in their
demands equates God’s very being with their demands. King’s implication to the Southern
clergy is that to deny the black community freedom is to deny the eternal will of God. King
can assert no higher power to these religious leaders than their shared God.
Beginning his peroratio, King feels “impelled” to address a final point which is unsettling –
their praise of the Birmingham police department. Returning to “just and unjust,” King
reinforces the idea that the end does not justify the means; he has remained conscious
that both means and end must be “pure.” Conversely, using “moral means to preserve
immoral ends” are just as wrong. He points out the police have been publicly nonviolent,
but they were used to maintain “the immoral end of injustice” (53). He wishes clergy had
commended the demonstrators for their “courage, their willingness to suffer and their
amazing discipline” (54). Affirming the South will one day “recognize its real heroes” and
their “noble sense of purpose” and “agonizing loneliness,” he calls them the South’s
“disinherited children of God” (54). King seeks “consubstantiality” with his American clerical
brothers in his effort to persuade them. Kenneth Burke’s term relates to the human means
of identification. As we identify, we share substance; King and his audience share the
substance of being both American and cleric. King’s emotional evocation of the “American
dream,” “the most sacred values of our Judeo-Christian heritage,” “the Constitution,” and
“the Declaration of Independence” are rhetorically loaded and placed within the context of
a single sentence. He calls on these shared identities for empowerment.
Reconfirming God above man, King “begs” their forgiveness if he “overstates the truth,” but
begs God’s forgiveness if he has understated it. Reconfirming his goodwill, yet reflecting
Biblical greetings, he hopes the letter finds them “strong in faith,” and he will soon meet
them, not as a civil rights leader, but as a “fellow clergyman and a Christian brother” (57).
Alluding to Paul’s words from prison in Philippians 2:15 to “shine like stars in the
universe,” King concludes expressing his hope that soon “the radiant stars of love and
brotherhood will shine over our great nation” (57).
Augustine specifies, “in vain is conviction that the words are true, in vain is the style of the
speech pleasing, if action does not follow upon the understanding” (467). King’s wielding of
rhetorical power initiates his desired action. On May 10, 1963 an agreement was
announced in Birmingham: stores, restaurants, and schools will be desegregated, the
hiring of African Americans is set in motion, and the charges against Martin Luther King are
dropped.
Notes:
1.Parenthetical references include the seven paragraph body of the Clergymen’s Letter
and the fifty paragraphs of King’s letter, totaling fifty-seven paragraphs. Thus (5) refers to
the fifth paragraph of the Clergymen’s letter, (8) refers to the opening paragraph of King’s
letter.
2. Author unknown
3. Psalm 23:5 “Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies. Thou
anountist my head with oil; my cup runneth over.” The Holy Bible KJV Alludes to enemies
and an over filled vessel.
4. Revelation 3:16 references the Church in Laodicea’s lack of enthusiasm. “So, because
you are lukewarm -- neither hot nor cold – I am about to spit you out of my mouth.” The
Holy Bible NIV
5. In Philippians 2 Paul calls the Church to be united, compassionate, one in spirit and
goal. Paul implies this conduct will reflect his ministry and imprisonment were not in vain.
Phil. 2:15 reads: “so that you may become blameless and pure, children of God without
fault in a crooked and depraved generation, in which you shine like stars in the universe.”
The Holy Bible NIV
Works Cited
Augustine. On Christian Doctrine. The Rhetorical Tradition. Eds. Patricia Bizzell, and
Bruce Herzberg. 2nd ed. Boston. New York: Bedford/St. Martin’s, 2001. 467.
Ekklesia. “About Ekklesia: Definition of Ekklesia”. 9 June 2003. <http://www.ekklesia.us/
about/definition.asp>.
Irvine, Alex. “Letter from Birmingham Jail”. 2 June 2003. <http://www.alexirvine.net/
Mlk/Birmingham_notes.html>.
King, Martin Luther, Jr. “Letter from Birmingham Jail”. Creating America: Reading and
Writing Arguments. Ed. Joyce Moser, and Ann Watters. 2nd ed. New Jersey: Prentice
Hall, 1999. 406 – 421.
New International Version Study Bible. Ed.Edward Hoerber. St. Louse: Concordia
Publishing House, 1986.