Heroism in the Midst of Insurrection
Last week, a mob of violent insurrectionists stormed our nation’s Capitol. Fueled by conspiratorial myths, animated by white supremacy and anti-Semitism and nativism, and catalyzed by reckless leadership, they brought domestic terror to the seat of American government. We have likely all seen the associated images: Confederate flags paraded through the halls, rioters in paramilitary gear stalking legislators and media members, marauders smugly declaring their entitlement to the spaces of duly elected lawmakers. What we saw testified to a day that was nothing less than a resentful, chauvinist attack on the fundamentals of democratic society and the principle of universal human dignity.
Rioters threatened and chased Officer Eugene Goodman inside the Capitol. (Ashley Gilbertson for The New York Times)
While so many of these images bespeak a national shame, at least one should win both our gratitude and amazement. One of the striking visuals of the day was that of a single Capitol Police officer, Eugene Goodman, holding back a mob of rioters as they swarmed the stairs and hallways of the Capitol. With quick thinking and courage, Goodman lured the mob by purposely provoking the rioters, leading them up a flight of stairs, and drawing them away from the Senate chamber, which sat nearby. In a nation that witnessed nearly 5,000 lynchings in the 19th and 20th Centuries, the sight of Goodman, who is Black, facing down a gang of churning, angry white people was both a reminder of a violent past that is still very much with us and a testament to the poise and bravery of a heroic figure.
And this leads us to Martin Luther King, Jr., whose national holiday we recognize on Monday. Clearly, the contrast between the movement led by Dr. King and the riot that we saw last week could not be more striking. King and his allies embraced nonviolent civil disobedience, championed the love of neighbor and enemy alike, and calmly but insistently named the injustice of disenfranchising millions on the basis of skin color. The insurrectionists, on the other hand, were bent on mayhem, consistently demonized others as “traitors” and “enemies of the people,” and were acting to negate the votes of millions of their fellow citizens. The difference is as offensive as it is obvious, and to embrace the spirit of Dr. King is to categorically reject the racism, hatred, and violence of January 6.
Martin Luther King was about many things—love, peace, justice, faith—but he also committed himself to a level of risk. Long before he was a figure of almost universal celebration in death, he was a man often reviled in life, in both the North and the South—not just by his assassin and other segregationists, but also by fellow clergy, “moderate” whites, political and law enforcement leaders, and even Black activists with whom he had tactical disagreements. King took on incredible risk in the name of justice, and while we rightly esteem his heroism, courage, and leadership, we should also recognize the ways in which risk was (and is) inequitably distributed. To be sure, King called others to join him, and many did, but many also did not, for fear of losing the comfort and status that they enjoyed. And so Dr. King assumed the risk—the risk of unpopularity, the risk of alienation, the risk of danger—that others were unwilling to carry.
“Perhaps when we acknowledge the heroism of Dr. King’s life, and the heroism of Officer Goodman’s intervention, we might also acknowledge what the need for such heroism tells us. ”
So, perhaps when we acknowledge the heroism of Dr. King’s life, and the heroism of Officer Goodman’s intervention, we might also acknowledge what the need for such heroism tells us. Officer Goodman did not go to work that day knowing he faced the risk of violence from a mob that was surely screaming some of the same ugly slurs and threats that Dr. King encountered decades before. And Dr. King likely did not envision the Confederate flag being waved in the halls of Congress in 2021. That says something about the work that is left to do. Our gratitude and our admiration for these men can be full, but so, too, can our humility and our resolve, as we recognize that justice is not the province solely of individual actors, but also the work of communities who believe we are all entitled to share in the truth, beauty, and happiness which justice brings.