06/19/23 06/19/23 [captioning made possible amy: from new york, this is democracy now! >> for me, when i think of juneteenth, part of what i think about is the both-handedness of it, that it is this moment in which we mourn the fact that freedom was kept from hundreds of thousands of enslaved people for years and for months after it had been attained by them, and then, at the same time, celebrating the end of one of the most egregious things that this country has ever done. amy: today, a democracy now! juneteenth special, the federal holiday

commemorating the day in 1865 when enslaved people in galveston, texas, learned of their freedom more than two years after the emancipation proclamation. we'll speak to clint smith, author of "how the word is passed: a reckoning with the history of slavery across america." then we remember the life and legacy of the legendary actor, singer, and civil rights activist harry belafonte, who died in april at the age of 96. >> paul robeson, who was a mentor and a man for whom i had enormous love and admiration, was the supreme example for me of how to use your life with dignity and with courage -- not bravado, but genuine social courage, to put all that's on the line to come up against the forces of oppression.

amy: we will hear harry belafonte in his own words. all that and more coming up. welcome to democracy now!, democracynow.org, the war and peace report. i'm amy goodman. today, a democracy now! special on this, the newly created juneteenth federal holiday, which marks the end of slavery in the united states. the juneteenth commemoration dates back to the last days of the civil war, when union soldiers landed in galveston, texas, on june 19, 1865, with news that the war had ended, and enslaved people learned they were freed. it was two-and-a-half years after the emancipation proclamation. in 2021, president biden signed legislation to make juneteenth the first new federal holiday

since dr. martin luther king jr. day. on the day after biden signed the legislation, i spoke to the writer and poet clint smith, author of the book "how the word is passed: a reckoning with the history of slavery across america." i began by asking him about traveling to galveston, texas, and his feelings on juneteenth becoming a federal holiday. >> as you mentioned, i went to galveston, texas. i've been writing this book for four years, and i went two years ago. and it was marking the 40th anniversary of when texas had made juneteenth a state holiday. and it was the al edwards prayer breakfast. the late al edwards, sr. is the state legislator, black state legislator who made possible and advocated for the legislation that turned juneteenth into a holiday, a state holiday in texas. and so i went, in part, because i wanted to spend time with people who were the actual descendants of those who had been freed

by general gordon granger's general order no. 3. and it was a really remarkable moment, because i was in this place, on this island, on this land, with people for whom juneteenth was not an abstraction. it was not a performance. it was not merely a symbol. it was part of their tradition. it was part of their lineage. it was an heirloom that had been passed down, that had made their lives possible. and so i think i gained a more intimate sense of what that holiday meant. and to sort of broaden, broaden out more generally, you spoke to how it was more than two-and-a-half years after the emancipation proclamation, and it was an additional two months after general robert e. lee surrendered at appomattox, effectively ending the civil war. so it wasn't only two years after the emancipation proclamation. it was an additional two months after the civil war was effectively over. and so for me, when i think of juneteenth, part of what i think about is the both-handedness of it, that it is this moment in which we mourn the fact that freedom

was kept from hundreds of thousands of enslaved people for years and for months after it had been attained by them, and then at the same time, celebrating the end of one of the most egregious things that this country has ever done. and i think what we're experiencing right now is a sort of marathon of cognitive dissonance, in the way that is reflective of the black experience as a whole, because we are in a moment where we have the first new federal holiday in over 40 years and a moment that is important to celebrate, the juneteenth, and to celebrate the end of slavery and to have it recognized as a national holiday, and at the same time that that is happening, we have a state-sanctioned effort across state legislatures across the country that is attempting to prevent teachers from teaching the very thing that helps young people understand the context from which juneteenth emerges. and so, i think that we recognize that, as a symbol, juneteenth is not -- that it matters, that it is important,

but it is clearly not enough. and i think the fact that juneteenth has happened is reflective of a shift in our public consciousness, but also of the work that black texans and black people across this country have done for decades to make this moment possible. amy: and can you explain more what happened in galveston in 1865 and, even as you point out, what the emancipation proclamation actually did two-and-a-half years before? >> right. so the emancipation proclamation is often a widely misunderstood document. so it did not sort of wholesale free the enslaved people throughout the union. it did not free enslaved people in the union. in fact, there were several border states that were part of the union that continued to keep their enslaved laborers, states like kentucky, states like delaware, states like missouri. and what it did was it was a military edict that was attempting to free enslaved people in confederate territory. but the only way that that edict would be enforced

is if union soldiers went and took that territory. and so part of what many enslavers realized -- and realized correctly -- was that texas would be one of the last frontiers that union soldiers would be able to come in and force the emancipation proclamation -- if they ever made it there in the first place, because this was two years prior to the end of the civil war. and so you had enslavers from virginia and from north carolina and from all of these states in the upper south who brought their enslaved laborers and relocated to texas in ways that increased the population of enslaved people in texas by the tens of thousands. and so when gordon granger comes to texas, he is making clear and letting people know that the emancipation proclamation had been enacted in ways that because of the topography of texas and because of how spread out and rural and far apart from different ecosystems of information many people were, a lot of enslaved people didn't know that the emancipation proclamation had happened.

and some didn't even know that general lee had surrendered at appomattox two months prior. and so part of what this is doing is making clear to the 250,000 enslaved people in texas that they had actually been granted freedom two-and-a-half years prior and that the war that this was all fought over had ended two months before. amy: during the ceremony making juneteenth a federal holiday, president biden got down on his knee to greet opal lee, the 94-year-old activist known as the grandmother of juneteenth. this is biden speaking about lee. pres. biden: as a child growing up in texas, she and her family would celebrate juneteenth. on juneteenth 1939, when she was 12 years old, a white mob torched her family home. but such hate never stopped her, any more than it stopped the vast majority of you i'm looking at from this podium. over the course of decades,

she has made it her mission to see that this day came. it was almost a singular mission. she has walked for miles and miles, literally and figuratively, to bring attention to juneteenth, to make this day possible. amy: and this is opal lee speaking at harvard school of public health. >> i don't want people to think juneteenth is just one day. there is too much educational components. we have too much to do. i even advocate that we do juneteenth, that we celebrate freedom from the 19th of june to the fourth of july because we weren't free on the fourth of july, 1776. that would be celebrating freedom -- do you understand? -- if we were able to do that. amy: and that is opal lee, considered the grandmother of juneteenth. and clint, one of the things you do in your book

is you introduce us to grassroots activists. this doesn't come from the top. this comes from years of organizing, as you point out, in galveston itself and with people like -- not that there's anyone like -- opal lee. >> yeah, no, absolutely. part of what this book is doing, it is an attempt to uplift the stories of people who don't often get the attention that they deserve in how they shape the historical record. so that means the public historians who work at these historical sites and plantations. that means the museum curators. that means the activists and the organizers, people like take 'em down nola in new orleans who pushed the city council and the mayor to make possible the fact that in 2017 these statues would come down, several confederate statues in my hometown, in new orleans. and part of -- when i think about someone like miss opal lee, part of what i think about is our proximity to this period of history, right? slavery existed for 250 years in this country, and it's only not existed for 150.

and, you know, the way that i was taught about slavery, growing up in elementary school, we were made to feel as if it was something that happened in the jurassic age, that it was the flintstones, the dinosaurs and slavery, almost as if they all happened at the same time. but the woman who opened the national museum of african american history and culture alongside the obama family in 2016 was the daughter of an enslaved person -- not the granddaughter or the great-granddaughter or the great-great-granddaughter. the daughter of an enslaved person is who opened this museum of the smithsonian in 2016. and so, clearly, for so many people, there are people who are alive today who were raised by, who knew, who were in community with, who loved people who were born into intergenerational chattel bondage. and so this history that we tell ourselves was a long time ago wasn't, in fact, that long ago at all. and part of what so many activists and grassroots public historians and organizers across this country recognize is that if we don't fully understand and account for this history,

that actually wasn't that long ago, that in the scope of human history was only just yesterday, then we won't fully understand our contemporary landscape of inequality today. we won't understand how slavery shaped the political, economic and social infrastructure of this country. and when you have a more acute understanding of how slavery shaped the infrastructure of this country, then you're able to more effectively look around you and see how the reason one community looks one way and another community looks another way is not because of the people in those communities, but is because of what has been done to those communities generation after generation after generation. and i think that that is central to the sort of public pedagogy that so many of these activists and organizers who have been attempting to make juneteenth a holiday and bring attention to it as an entry point to think more wholly and honestly about the legacy of slavery have been doing. amy: during an interview on cnn, democratic congressmember alexandria ocasio-cortez called out the 14 republican congressmembers -- all white men -- who voted against making juneteenth a federal holiday.

>> this is pretty consistent with, i think, the republican base, and it's -- whether it's trying to fight against teaching basic history around racism and the role of racism in u.s. history to -- you know, there's a direct through line from that to denying juneteenth, the day that is widely recognized and celebrated as a symbolic kind of day to represent the end of slavery in the united states. amy: if you could respond to that, clint smith, and also the fact that on the same day, yesterday, the senate minority leader said they would not be supporting the for the people act? >> yeah, i mean, i think -- amy: the voting rights act. >> absolutely. i think, very clearly, the critical race theory -- the idea of it is being used as a bogeyman and it is being misrepresented and distorted by people who don't even know what critical race theory is, right? so we should be clear that the thing that people

are calling critical race theory is just -- that is the language that they are using to talk about the idea of teaching any sort of history that rejects the idea that america is a singularly exceptional place, and that we should not account for the history of harm that has been enacted to create opportunities and intergenerational wealth for millions of people, that has come at the direct expense of millions and millions of other people across generations. and so part of what is happening in these state legislatures across the country with regard to the effort to push back against teaching of history -- 1619 project, critical race theory, and the like -- is a recognition that we have developed in this country a more sophisticated understanding, a more sophisticated framework, a more sophisticated public lexicon with which to understand how slavery -- how racism was not just an interpersonal phenomenon, it was a historic one, it was a structural one, it was a systemic one. amy: i want you to talk more about your book "how the word is passed:

a reckoning with the history of slavery across america." can you talk about the journey you took -- you were just mentioning where you grew up, in louisiana, the map of the streets of louisiana -- and why you feel it is so critical not only to look at the south, but your chapter on new york is something that people will be -- many will be shocked by the level of -- when people talk about the south and slavery, that new york, of course, had enslaved people? >> it did. it was really important for me to include a chapter on new york city, and a place in the north, more broadly, in part because, while the majority of places i visit are in the south because the south is where slavery was saturated and where it was most intimately tied the social and economic infrastructure of that society,

it most certainly also existed in the north. what a lot of people don't know is that new york city, for an extended period of time, was the second-largest slave port in the country after charleston, south carolina. and that in 1860, on the brink of the civil war, when south carolina was about to secede from the union after the election of abraham lincoln, that new york city's mayor fernando wood proposed that new york city should also secede from the union alongside the southern states, because new york's financial and political infrastructure were so deeply entangled and tied to the slavocracy of the south. also that the statue of liberty was originally conceived by édouard de laboulaye, a french abolitionist who conceived of the idea of the statue of liberty and giving it to the united states as a gift, that it was originally conceived as an idea to celebrate the end of the civil war and to celebrate abolition. but over time, that meaning has been -- even through the conception of the statue, right?

the original conception of the statue actually had lady liberty breaking shackles, like a pair of broken shackles on her wrists, to symbolize the end of slavery. and over time, it became very clear that that would not have the sort of wide stream -- or wide mainstream support of people across the country, obviously this having been just not too long after the end of the civil war, so there were still a lot of fresh wounds. and so they shifted the meaning of the statue to be more about sort of inclusivity, more about the american experience, the american project, the american promise, the promise of democracy, and sort of obfuscated the original meaning to the point where even the design changed. and so they replaced the shackles with a tablet and the torch, and then put the shackles very subtly sort of underneath her robe. and you can -- but the only way you can see them, these broken chains, these broken links, are from a helicopter or from an airplane. and in many ways, i think that that is a microcosm

for how we hide the story of slavery across this country. that these chain links are hidden, out of sight, out of view of most people, under the robe of lady liberty, and how the story of slavery across this country is very -- as we see now, very intentionally trying to be hidden and kept from so many people, so that we have a fundamentally inconsistent understanding of the way that slavery shaped our contemporary society today. amy: before we end, you are an author, you are a teacher and a poet. can you share a poem with us? >> i'd be happy to. and so, when you're a poet writing nonfiction, that very much animates the way that i purge the -- and so, this is part of the -- this is an adaptation or an except from the end of one of my chapters, that originally began as a poem that i wrote when i was trying to think about some of these issues that i brought up.

growing up, the iconography of the confederacy was an ever-present fixture of my daily life. every day on the way to school, i passed a statue of p.g.t. beauregard riding on horseback, his confederate uniform slung over his shoulder and his military cap pulled far down over his eyes. as a child, i did not know who p.g.t. beauregard was. i did not know he was the man who ordered the first attack that opened the civil war. i did not know he was one of the architects who designed the confederate battle flag. i did not know he led an army predicated on maintaining the institution of slavery. what i knew is that he looked like so many of the other statues that ornamented the edges of this city, these copper garlands of a past that saw truth as something that should be buried underground and silenced by the soil. after the war, the sons and daughters of the confederacy reshaped the contours of treason into something they could name as honorable. we called it the lost cause. and it crept its way into books that attempted to cover up a crime that was still unfolding. they told us that robert e. lee

was an honorable man, guilty of nothing but fighting for the state and the people that he loved, that the southern flag was about heritage and remembering those slain fighting to preserve their way of life. but, see, the thing about the lost cause is that it's only lost if you're not actually looking. the thing about heritage is that it's a word that also means "i'm ignoring what we did to you." i was taught the civil war wasn't about slavery, but i was never taught how the declarations of confederate secession had the promise of human bondage carved into its stone. i was taught the war was about economics, but i was never taught that in 1860 the 4 million enslaved black people were worth more than every bank, factory, and railroad combined. i was taught that the civil war was about states' rights, but i was never taught how the fugitive slave act could care less about a border and spelled georgia and massachusetts the exact same way. it's easy to look at a flag and call it heritage when you don't see the black bodies buried behind it. it's easy to look at a statue and call it history when you ignore the laws written in its wake. i come from a city

abounding with statues of white men on pedestals and black children playing beneath them, where we played trumpets and trombones to drown out the dixie song that's still whistled in the wind. in new orleans, there are over 100 schools, roads and buildings named for confederates and slaveholders. every day, black children walk into buildings named after people who never wanted them to be there. every time i would return home, i would drive on streets named for those who would have wanted me in chains. go straight for two miles on robert e. lee, take a left on jefferson davis, make the first right on claiborne. translation, go straight for two miles on the general who slaughtered hundreds of black soldiers who were trying to surrender, take a left on the president of the confederacy who made the torture of black bodies the cornerstone of his new nation, make the first right on the man who permitted the heads of rebelling slaves to be put on stakes and spread across the city in order to prevent the others from getting any ideas. what name is there for this sort of violence? what do you call it when the road you walk on is named for those who imagined you under a noose?

what do you call it when the roof over your head is named after people who would have wanted the bricks to crush you? amy: clint smith, author of the book "how the word is passed: a reckoning with the history of slavery across america," speaking on democracy now! in 2021, the day after juneteenth became a federal holiday. coming up, we remember the life and legacy of the legendary actor, singer, and civil rights activist harry belafonte who died in april at the age of 96. ■■ [music break]

amy: "oh, freedom" sung by harry belafonte. this is democracy now!, democracynow.org., the war and peace report. i am amy goodman. amy: we spend the rest hour remembering the remarkable life of harry belafonte. the pioneering actor, singer, civil rights activist died on april 25 at his home in new york at the age of 96. harry belafonte grew up in harlem and jamaica.

in the 1950's, he spearheaded the calypso craze and became the first artist in recording history with a million-selling album. he was also the first african american actor to win an emmy. along with his rise to worldwide stardom, belafonte became deeply involved in the civil rights movement. one of dr. martin luther king's closest confidants, he sent money to bail king out of the birmingham city jail and raised thousands of dollars to release other imprisoned protesters. he financed the freedom rides, supported voter registration drives and helped to organize the march on washington in 1963. harry belafonte remained involved in political struggles at home and abroad. a longtime critic of u.s. foreign policy, he called for an end to the embargo against cuba, and took part in the anti-apartheid movement. harry hosted nelson mandela on his triumphant visit

to the united states after mandela's release from prison in south africa. harry belafonte also spoke out against the was invasion of iraq and was called president george w. bush the "greatest terrorist in the world." harry belafonte appeared on democracy now! numerous times. in 2011, i spoke to him at the sundance film festival, where a documentary about his life, titled "sing your song" premiered. the film was co-produced by harry belafonte's daughter gina. this is a part of the film's trailer. >> here's one of the greatest artists of the world, harry belafonte! >> ■ day-o, day-o daylight come and we want go home day, is a day, is a day, is a day ■■ >> one day, paul robeson came to see me and simply said, "get them to sing your song, and they'll want to know who you are."

>> ■ coconut woman is calling out every day you will hear her shout ■■ >> even in that grainy, black-and-white early tv, his personality came out. >> when harry belafonte went on the show with petula clark, they touched. >> people were like, "oh my god!" >> whatever you're capable of doing as artists to help propagandize the civil rights revolution. >> out of that came the true artistry of harry belafonte. >> there's a lot of people out here who are really pissed off. >> harry gave us a piece of his fire. it gave us all strength. >> we are angry. we're upset. >> harry motivated martin, because here's a man who didn't have to get involved and who did. >> we look around for some comfort, and we don't find any. >> i remember once when you said,

"from the time i get up and the time i go to sleep, i seek out the injustices done to humankind." >> what do we want? >> peace! >> when do we want it? >> now! >> he was always like that. he was always, "let's do something." >> harry did this over and over and over and over again. >> he took all our struggles and made them his own. amy: the trailer for the documentary "sing your song" about the life of harry belafonte, who's died at the age of 96. the film premiered at the 2011 sundance film festival in park city, utah, where i interviewed harry. i asked him to talk about his first memories of being politically active. >> i'm not quite sure precisely when social and political activism became a visible brand of my dna, but it seems to me that i was born into it. it is hard to be born into the experience

in the world of poverty and not develop some instinct for survival and resistance to those things that oppress you. my mother was a feisty lady. although she had never gotten into a place of formal education, she came here and had to learn skills, became a seamstress. she became an expert cook. she worked at odds and ends in jobs. she never resisted the opportunity to fight oppression, especially segregation and all the things that plagued people who were immigrants. in her resistance, she counseled us constantly. amy: now, professionally, you started more acting before you really professionally singing, is that right? >> well, acting was the complete key, was the main key to my getting involved.

in this play that we did of steinbeck's "of mice and men," the director had created a character in the play who would become the balladeer. he would be a force. the director moved throughout the play to -- in the changing of sets, changing of cues, lighting cues, changing of mood. and this character would emerge from the darkness of the corners of the stage and sing the songs of the day for those migrant workers coming from southwest america. and most of the songs that i had to sing were the songs that had been written by huddie ledbetter and by woody guthrie. as a matter of fact, i opened the play with a woody guthrie song. anyway, let me jump to the quick of this. it was approaching the material as an actor, because the director spent a lot of time on what the balladeer would do,

how he would positioned and -- how he would be positioned, what the intensity of the moment of singing the song would mean to the development of the play or the scene. and in that context, i approached music as a tool that was really about social information. it wasn't just harmony and chords and notes and melody, all that was obvious. but it was the content and the power of song. and having been heard in that play in that context, i was offered a job to become a singer. and since i couldn't find other work, being a singer was a good challenge. so i put a repertoire together, walked into a night club called the royal roost, met guys like charlie parker and miles davis and max roach. amy: they were your backup band? >> my first backup band were those guys. and they just launched me into a world from which i have never looked back. amy: one of the incredible stories told in "sing your song"

is your traveling through the south and trying to sing your song. talk about that experience. >> paul robeson, who was a mentor and a man for whom i had enormous love and admiration, was the supreme example for me of how to use your life with dignity and with courage -- not bravado, but genuine social courage to put all that's on the line to come up against the forces of oppression, who controlled so much of what you could or could not do as an artist. and to defy that fact and go after the larger goal of changing the faces of oppression inspired me. and he went everywhere there was the opportunity to be heard, whether it was going into spain to sing during the great spanish revolutionary war in the 1930's,

whether it going to england. he went and he worked with the welsh miners. as a matter of fact, his whole engagement politically had been stimulated by what happened when he met the welsh miners. and he sang with them, and he went into their world. well, when i watched what he did and how many places he went for inspiration, and mostly places where there was oppression, i felt those were the places in which i would be most nourished and what i should be doing with my own art and with my own platform. and certainly going into the south of the united states, listening to the voices of rural black america, listening to the voices of those who sang out against the ku klux klan and out against segregation, and women, who were the most oppressed of all, coming rising to the occasion to protest against their conditions, became the arena where my first songs were to emerge. and in that context, going in the south

was for me not to exploit commercially -- that didn't come until later -- but to find the resources to nourish my own creativity. amy: so there you were, the star on the stage, but you couldn't go in the front door. describe that experience. >> when i went to the south on a professional basis, i had already arrived at a place where there was some visibility. i was going with artists who were quite well known -- marge and gower champion, a play called "three for tonight." many of the places we booked throughout the universities of america, a lot of the places we went were to the universities in the south, like chapel hill and the university of texas. and in going to those places, we thought we were going not so much for the commercial reward of it -- that was how we made our living -- but to get to young people and to get our works before them.

and in the places that we went, some of the auditoriums were public institutions. and when i got to some of these places, not only did they not want to let me in the theater, they didn't want to let me in the places in which we were booked to stay overnight. there were many instances where, by law, no black person could stay in this hotel, or by law, no black person could be sitting at a table with a white member of the cast -- i mean, white woman member of the cast -- and not be sitting in the threat of incarceration and the law coming down on you, because these were then tenets of the law. this wasn't just something that was capricious, it was written. it was the legislation of the state. and we had to come up against that. and the battle was consistent. and even in the north, places like the waldorf astoria and the palmer house in chicago and these mighty institutions of culture

did have strict race laws. and in accepting employment to go in these places, rigidly placed in my contract was the requirement that those laws and those rules be suspended and not be evoked during the time of my appearance. amy: harry belafonte, when did you first meet dr. martin luther king? >> it was right after birmingham -- i'm sorry, montgomery. right after the montgomery bus boycott had taken hold and the montgomery bus boycott association -- the montgomery improvement association. and we had all heard about this young minister and certainly we all heard of rosa parks. and i got a call before the strike had been settled even. they had not expected it to run so long. amy: so this was in 1956?

>> 1956. dr. king called and he was coming to new york to speak at the abyssinian baptist church. there was -- at that time, the head pastor was adam clayton powell, who was in our congress. and he was going to give a lecture to people from the ecumenical community. and he said, "i'm coming to new york, and i'd love to have an opportunity to meet you. and i'd like to give you an idea of what it is that i do." and i was absolutely fascinated that he called, and i wanted very much to meet him. so i went up to the church to hear him speak. and at the end of his lecture, he would retire to the basement. and for what he said would just be a few minutes, almost at the end of four hours, we exchanged thoughts, feelings, and passions. and at the end of that meeting,

i knew that i would be in his service and focus on the cause of the desegregation movement, the right to vote, and all that he stood for. although we understood how perilous the journey would be, we were not quite prepared for all that we had to confront. and i think that it was the most important time in my life. amy: i wanted to go to a clip from "sing your song" of dr. martin luther king. >> dr. king, do you fear for your life? >> i'm more concerned about doing a good job, doing something for humanity and what i consider the will of god than about longevity. ultimately, it isn't so important how long you live. the important thing is how well you live. >> i have some very sad news for all of you, and i think sad news for all of our fellow citizens

and people who love peace all over the world. and that is that martin luther king was shot and was killed tonight in memphis, tennessee. ■ >> i couldn't believe it. i couldn't. all of a sudden, our worst fears were being awakened.

i really did not give myself much time to be preoccupied with any personal deep sense of loss. amy: that was dr. martin luther king, and that clip is from the film about harry belafonte's life, about the history of the 20th century and coming into the 21st called "sing your song." harry, that relationship you had with dr. king that went on for more than a decade, until his assassination, how often did you speak? >> i would say, easily, we spoke every day. obviously, we missed some days or some weekends, but the line was constantly filled with thoughts and ideas and challenge and up-to-date decisions that were being made by a team of people that were always brought together

when there was the moment to escalate what we were doing or to be cautious about where we were going. and also we were trying to broaden the base of our political relationships. so much of what our mission was doing was very dependent on our relationship with the federal government, with the institutions of justice, because our plea was on a constitutional basis -- the constitution of the united states of america is being grossly violated by all the things that black people are experiencing. and if you don't have the instruments of government and the federal government on your side, including the courts, then you really can't do very much, because all the laws that bound us to such cruel experience were state laws and there was no way to appeal the injustice within the state structure. so we had to find ways in which to broaden our campaign

to include a national movement and it becoming a national movement to entice federal intervention. amy: do you know how many of those hundreds of conversations were recorded by the fbi? >> i think my safest bet would be all of them. i don't know when it would have started, but -- amy: have you gotten transcripts of those conversations? >> yes, i've gotten transcripts. i've gotten some stuff from the freedom of information act. what's very important is the fact that in the first 10 years of pursuing to get those files, i have letters that come from both the cia and the fbi assuring me, "with all honesty and with having done all due diligence and deep research, such documents don't exist. there are none." and eventually, we had other sources

that came through other ways in which they began to look through files and saw my name and situations -- amy: like taylor branch, the historian. >> taylor branch, the historian, he was most revealing in what he had done with the research. but also journalists and other people who were digging to get stories on other subjects came across those files and informed us. and then finally, the fbi capitulated. and the first documents they sent, about hundreds of pages, 99% of those pages were just one big black stroke. so the insult against intelligence to send those kinds of files to a citizen whose rights were being violated was an insult to not only intelligence, but a crushing of the rights to information and to living in a society that is more open and transparent. amy: talk about the march from selma to montgomery

and who you brought down and the fear at that time and how these artists were also a kind of protection, the frontlines, if you will, to protect the people who were at great risk whose names were not famous. >> i think all the artists who did this understood that, understood that there was the threat to life, and that some irrational person somewhere or some irrational group somewhere would find it very adventurous to mark them as one of the targets. there'd be a lot of heroism coming from the clan of these retarded people, emotionally and socially, to say they killed a celebrity -- which in fact became in vogue not so shortly after this period. look what they did to john kennedy and to so many others, dr. king, and etc. but these artists understood that.

it wasn't -- they were not blinded by it. they weren't blind to it, i should say. and by putting themselves on the line, it heightened public curiosity. and in heightening public curiosity, it meant that things were forced to be more transparent. and they weren't quite ready to reveal themselves that way -- i'm talking about the opposition. except it's important to note that at the very night of our concert, the night thereafter, was when mrs. liuzzo was murdered. and as a matter of fact, in the car in which she had taken one of the members of our group to the airport, she was on her way back. tony bennett gave up his seat in that ride. amy: tony bennett was there, singing. >> yeah, he was there. and he gave up his seat to someone else, to mrs. liuzzo and the young man that was with her. amy: she was a white woman who wanted to support the struggle, the civil rights struggle -- >> she was the wife of -- amy: by driving people?

>> yes. she was a member of the automobile workers union, and she volunteered to come down and was one of the organizers. and she drove cars to give people facility back and forth to the different places in which artists had to reside. and in doing that service, on her way back from the airport, she fell a target to murderers who killed her. that was to have been tony bennett's car. it was also important, i think, because the kind of artists that came down didn't have a platform on which they were going to be very visible. singers could always be heard, but -- leonard bernstein came down. and when he and i spoke, leonard said, "i don't sing. there will be no orchestra to conduct. but morally i feel an obligation to let my presence be seen and to let people draw whatever strength from that they might be able to garnish,

to know that their struggle has touched all of us." so there were many who people don't even know about. amy: you also helped fund freedom summer. >> yes. amy: talk about that, putting your finances behind the struggle. i mean, you now -- what, in 1955 or before had the first gold record, "calypso," gold, million-selling record, first one in this country. some had singles, but you had the record. >> yeah, it was the first album to achieve the sales of a million. and beyond all of the hoopla that came with that fact from the commercial end stood the studio and the record company. what was very prophetic about that moment for me was that it became symbolic of an instruction that paul robeson had given me. and he said, "get them to sing your song, and they'll want to know who you are."

and in that little exchange down in the dressing room of the village vanguard, i woke up not too long after that wonderful piece of counsel to understand what he meant, because that album housed the song "banana boat (day-o)." and the whole world was singing the song, in a literal sense. but also, when i looked at the thousands of people that came to the stadiums to hear that song and others, i realized that the world was singing my song. and in robeson's counsel, this was the opportunity to begin to spread truth and to open up opportunities for information to flow. it was the opportunity to reach out to other artists, who may not have been heard otherwise or needed or be heard, like miriam makeba. america knew nothing about the struggles of the people in africa. miriam makeba came. she got the platform.

ed sullivan was convinced that, in his world, to let miriam makeba come on the program and to sing in xhosa -- and for him it was an adventure, and he had been told by the programmers that they're not going to understand. and he said, "oh, they'll understand. harry likes it, it's good enough for me." and we got on the air and there was miriam makeba singing these songs, and her popularity became quite intense. amy: which was very important for the anti-apartheid struggle -- >> absolutely. amy: spreading into the united states. >> absolutely. not only the anti-apartheid struggle, which spread in the united states, but for a greater understanding of the liberation of the whole continent, because there was people like sékou touré and nyerere and tom mboya, and all of the entire continent was awakened with the idea of liberation. having african artists, eventually hugh masekela and others,

the whole idea of world music was seeded in the fact that the banana boat songs from the caribbean -- it opened up more music from cuba and the whole power in afro-cuban jazz and what those great cuban artists did who pollinated american jazz with such great harmonies in song. all of that stuff was a melting pot for a greater truth. amy: harry belafonte speaking in 2011 on democracy now! he died on april 25 at the age of 96 here in new york. harry belafonte in his own words, stay with us. ■■ [music break]

amy: "show me the way, my brother" sung by harry belafonte from the grammy-winning album he made with the south african singer miriam makeba. this is democracy now!, democracynow.org. the war and peace report. i am amy goodman. as we continue our special with more from harry belafonte.

the legendary actor, singer, and civil rights activist who died in april at the age of 96 here in new york city. harry belafonte last appeared on democracy now! in 2016 at a special event at the historic riverside church in new york to celebrate democracy now!'s 20th anniversary. he co-headlined the event with noam chomsky. it was the first time they had done a public event together. harry spoke about donald trump, who had just been elected president. >> i believe that trump, in bringing a new energy to the realization of the vastness of the reach of the ku klux klan, is not something that has been out of our basic purview of thought. the ku klux klan, for some of us, is a constant -- has a constant existence.

it isn't until it touches certain aspects of white america that white america all of the sudden wakes up to the fact that there is something called the klan and that it does its mischief. what causes me to have great thought is something that's most unique to my experience. and as i said earlier tonight, at the doorstep of being 90 years of age, i had thought i had seen it all and done it all, only to find out that at 89, i knew nothing. but the most peculiar thing to me has been the absence of a black presence in the middle of this resistance,

not just the skirmishes that we've seen in ferguson and black lives matter -- and i think those protests and those voices being raised are extremely important. [applause] but we blew this thing a long time ago. when they started the purge against communism in this country and against the voice of those who saw hope in a design for socialist theory and for the sharing of wealth and for the equality of humankind, when we abandoned our vigil -- our vision and vigils on that topic,

i think we sold out ourselves. [applause] a group of young black students in harlem just a few days ago asked me what, at this point in my life, was i looking for. and i said, "what i've always been looking for -- where resides the rebel heart?" without the rebellious heart, without people who understand that there's no sacrifice we can make that is too great to retrieve that which we've lost, we will forever be distracted with possessions and trinkets and title. and i think one of the big things that happened was that when black people began to be anointed by the trinkets of this capitalist society

and began to become big-time players and began to become heads of corporations, they became players in the game of our own demise. [applause] i think people have to be more adventurous. the heart has to find greater space for rebellion. [applause] so we pay a penalty for such thought because i was just recently reminded of schwerner, goodman, and chaney. they sit particularly close to my own feelings and thoughts, because i was one of the voices that was raised in recruiting those young students to participate in our rebellion.

amy: david goodman, andrew's brother, is here today. >> i'm sure of it. he's always at the right places. [applause] but i think that there are those kinds of extremes that will be experienced in the struggle, but the real nobility of our existence is, are we prepared to pay that price? and i think once the opposition understands that we are quite prepared to die for what we believe in -- [applause] that death for a cause does not just sit with isis, but sits with people, workers, people who are genuinely prepared to push against the theft of our nation

and the distortion of our constitution, and that for many of us, no price is too great for that charge. [applause] i've been through much in this country. i came back from the second world war. and while the world rejoiced in the fact that hitler had been met and defeated, there were some of us who were touched by the fact that instead of sitting at the table of feast at that great victory, we were worried about our lives because the response from many in america was the murder of many black servicemen that came back. and we were considered to be dangerous because we had learned the capacity to handle weaponry,

we had faced death on the battlefield. and when we came back, we had an expectation as the victors. we came back knowing that, yes, we might have fought to end hitler, but we also fought for our right to vote in america. [applause] that in the pursuit of such rights, came the civil rights movement. well, that can happen again. we just have to get out our old coats, dust them off, stop screwing around and just chasing the good times, and get down to business. there's some ass-kicking out here to be done. and we should do it. amy: harry belafonte, speaking in 2016 at the historic riverside church in new york to celebrate democracy now!'s 20th anniversary. he co-headlined the event with noam chomsky. harry died at his home in april

at the age of 96 here in new york city. to see the full event as well as all of our interviews with harry belafonte, you can go to democracynow.org. i am amy goodman. thank you for joining us.

♪ welcome to nhk "newsline." i'm ramin mellegard in tokyo. u.s. secretary of state antony blinken has met with two-day visit to china. he and the country's top leaders confirm they'll continue dialogue but failed to come an agreement on restarting military communications. blinken was the first member of president joe biden's