Squabbling Panthers

Commentary by Salim Muwakkil, host of the "Salim Muwakkil Show" on WVON 1690 AM, journalist, and community activist.

There’s been a lot of controversy stoked by members of a Philadelphia group that claims lineage to the Black Panther Party for Self-Defense. Dressed in black bomber jackets emblazoned with Panther logos and black berets, carrying military-style weapons, the group gathered in downtown Philly, where Paul Birdsong, who identified himself as the “chairman” of the Philly chapter, expressed solidarity with ICE protests, issuing a combative threat. “That wouldn’t have happened if we were there,” he told the Philadelphia Inquirer. “Not a single person would have gotten touched.” Birdsong’s challenge was disputed by Fred Hampton Jr., who, as the head of another Black Panther iteration, denounced Birdsong’s statements as unnecessarily provocative and lacking organizational discipline.

Hampton’s dissent is based on the notion that Black people should attend to issue that affect them directly and, essentially, shrug off the concerns of others. That position is a troubling one for me, who, in 1969, became a member of the Black Panther Party (a 3- year tenure), find more consonance with Birdsong’s position, although I agree that in this case it may be unnecessarily provocative.

While I understand Hampton’s focus on prioritizing internal struggles and parochial concerns, I believe solidarity with broader movements are necessary to strengthen collective resistance. Birdsong’s stance, though risky, reflects the need to challenge systemic injustices even if their primary victims are external groups. Disagreements on these perspectives highlight the perennial tension between focused activism (or strategic specificity), and broader coalition-building.

The Black Panther Party had to clarify its racial policy during it’s heyday due to ideological differences it had with Black cultural nationalist groups like Mualana Karenga’s US and Amiri Baraka’s Congress of African Peoples, who accused it of being beguiled by European concepts of Marxist-Leninism and foolishly dedicated to integration. The disagreements were fierce and sometimes became violent -- e.g., in 1969, Panthers’ Alprentice ‘Bunchy’ Carter and John Huggins, were killed by Nationalists during a program at UCLA in one of the more celebrated expressions of that feud.

We later learned, however, that much of that hostility was fueled by the FBI’s notorious COINTELPRO program. Death threats and humiliating cartoons created by the FBI were sent to each group, made to look as if they originated with the other group, with the explicit intention of inciting deadly violence and divisions. Unfortunately, it worked. The internecine struggles provoked by this FBI instigation crippled the movement in ways the government likely intended and in ways that we're still trying to repair.

Their insidious strategy deepened existing ideological splits in the movement and fermented the kind of mistrust that weakened our collective resistance. During one especially tense period, the acrimony became especially combative. Cultural Nationalists were dismissed as errant activists who foolishly adopted customs and quaint rituals from an idealized, rural African past as an attempt to disguise the class oppression of Black Americans.

The Panthers, in turn, were ridiculed as an unserious and quixotic group, created primarily to attract white philanthropy. And, because of the Panthers’ vigorous alliances with white radical groups, many Nationalists accused them of cosplaying radicalism just for access to interracial sex.

This perception was fueled by the Panthers' rather promiscuous embrace of diverse coalitions, which some Nationalists saw as undisciplined and contradictory to any commitment to Black liberation. However, the Panthers remained focused on addressing systemic inequality while empowering Black communities, even as they navigated sectarian criticism and complex ideological tensions within the broader movement.

In other words, the current debate regarding Black Americans’ role in the current ICE controversies has a deep historical resonance. The echoes are everywhere and one of them is: The ICE fight is not ours. This is the argument that focuses on the need for strategic specificity when it comes to the struggle of African-Americans. The contrasting notion, that only in concert can injustice be defeated, is the one that accords most with the Panther Party I joined in ‘69.

This tension highlights how movements must balance focused goals with broader solidarity. The Panthers' approach showed that addressing interconnected injustices can strengthen the struggle for Black liberation, even when it involves navigating complex alliances. Their legacy underscores the need for both specificity and collective action.