By: Max Morant (’23), Staff Writer
When I watched Shaka King’s Judas and the Black Messiah, I had a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions as the two-hour, six-minute film unfolded before my eyes. I was swept in the excitement and could feel the audience’s exhilaration at hearing Hampton give a speech in Daniel Kaluuya’s first on-screen appearance. In inspirational fashion, Hampton spoke his truth about the state of Black people in America, even prompting some attendees to walk out.
The speech reminded me just how recently the story of Frederick Allen Hampton had occurred. He emphasizes that peaceful protest will not foster change; we have to make those in power uncomfortable. His passionate and charismatic leadership in the late 1960s is not ancient history, nor are the malicious beliefs that fueled his cruel assassination are not at rest. The timing of the movie’s release is nearly flawless in its impact because the themes can be felt by all who lived through 2020. After I finished, the first thought that came to mind was that the movie is riddled with similarities to our current circumstances.
The government and police seem to have an inherent disposition to sew discord and division while convinced their actions are justified. Jesse Plemons’ portrayal of FBI Special Agent Roy Mitchell personifies the cunning and manipulation that America is willing to use to suppress any risk to the current social, political, and economic order. In the first minutes of the movie, J. Edgar Hoover outlines the intentions that ultimately led to Fred Hampton’s assassination. Hoover calls the Black Panther Party the “greatest threat to national security” while briefing dozens of FBI officials. After doing some external reading, I learned that this briefing is based on the FBI’s Counterintelligence Program (COINTELPRO), an initiative focused on neutralizing domestic figures and organizations deemed a threat to national security. In my eyes, COINTELPRO’s existence emphasizes the way that the Federal Government perceives its citizens–as menaces to be monitored.
Despite the bad taste that the feds left in my mouth, I was able to marvel at the displays of Black solidarity that the Black Panther Party stood for. Fred Hampton was on a mission to unify the largest predominantly Black organizations in Chicago, and he was mostly successful. In the film, a fictitious group known as The Crowns represents an amalgamation of all the different groups that comprised the Rainbow Coalition that Fred Hampton formed. In this pursuit, Hampton wanted to maximize the impact these groups would have on Chicago’s community. He worked with the Young Lords, the American Indian Movement, the Students for a Democratic Society, and many others who wanted to see positive change. I believe that these efforts represent Hampton’s real legacy. He saw the opportunity for unity because their respective situations were not–and are not–independent of each other.
We could apply Fred Hampton’s ideal to UNC’s campus and the larger community. I always smile when I see BSM collaborate with groups geared toward other demographics. These groups’ situations are often related, and members usually share ties with more than one organization because intersectionality is real.
Judas and the Black Messiah has motivated me to continue learning about people of color’s history in America. I realize that we can apply history’s lessons to the present because life is cyclical, not linear. With that said, I hope you all enjoy the movie as much as I did.
