*
Malcolm X wanted to "huddle" with me to fill me in on details from his trip that he wanted in the
book. He said that he was giving me only the highlights, because he felt that his carefully kept
diary might be turned into another book. We had intensive sessions in my hotel room, where he
read what he selected from the diary, and I took notes. "What I want to stress is that I was trying
to internationalize our problem," he said to me, "to make the Africans feel theirkinship with us
Afro-Americans. I made them think about it, that they are our blood brothers, and we all came
from the same foreparents. That's why the Africans loved me, the same way the Asians loved me
because I was religious."
Within a few days, he had no more time to see me. He would call and apologize; he was beset by
a host of problems, some of which he mentioned, and some of which I heard from other people.
Most immediately, there was discontent within his organization, the OAAU. His having stayed
away almost three times as long as he had said he would be gone had sorely tested the morale
of even his key members, and there was a general feeling that his interest was insufficient to
expect his followers' interest to stay high. I heard from one member that "a growing disillusion"
could be sensed throughout the organization.
In Harlem at large, in the bars and restaurants, on the street corners and stoops, there could be
heard more blunt criticism of Malcolm X than ever before in his career. There were, variously
expressed, two primary complaints. One was that actually Malcolm X only talked, but other civil-
rights organizations were doing. "All he's ever done was talk, CORE and SNCC and some of
them people of Dr. King's are out getting beat over the head." The second major complaint was
that Malcolm X was himself too confused to be seriously followed any longer. "He doesn't know
what he believes in. No sooner do you hear one thing than he's switched to something else."
The two complaints were not helping the old firebrand Malcolm X image any, nor were they
generating the local public interest that was badly needed by his small, young OAAU.
A court had made it clear that Malcolm X and his family would have to vacate the Elmhurst house
for its return to the adjudged legal owners, Elijah Muhammad's Nation of Islam. And other
immediate problems which Malcolm X faced included finances. Among his other expenses, a wife
and four daughters had tobe supported, along with at least one full-time OAAU official. Upon his
return from Africa, our agent for the book had delivered to me for Malcolm X a check for a sizable
sum; soon afterward Malcolm X told me, laughing wryly, "It's evaporated. I don't know where!"
Malcolm X plunged into a welter of activities. He wrote and telephoned dozens of acceptances to
invitations to speak, predominantly at colleges and universities-both to expound his philosophies
and to earn the $150-$300 honorariums above traveling expenses. When he was in New York
City, he spent all the time he could in his OAAU's sparsely furnished office on the mezzanine floor
of the Hotel Theresa, trying to do something about the OAAU's knotty problems. "I'm not exposing
our size in numbers," he evaded the query of one reporter. "You know, the strongest part of a tree
is the root, and if you expose the root, the tree dies. Why, we have many 'invisible' members, of
all types. Unlike other leaders, I've practiced the flexibility to put myself into contact with every
kind of Negro in the country."
Even at mealtimes, at his favorite Twenty Two Club, or elsewhere in Harlem, he could scarcely
eat for the people who came up asking for appointments to discuss with him topics ranging from
personal problems to his opinions on international issues. It seemed not in him to say "No" to
such requests. And aides of his, volunteering their time, as often as not had to wait lengthy
periods to get his ear for matters important to the OAAU, or to himself; often, even then, he most
uncharacteristically showed an impatience with their questions or their suggestions, and they
chafed visibly. And at least once weekly, generally on Sunday evenings, he would address as
many Negroes as word of mouth and mimeographed advertising could draw to hear him in
Harlem's Audubon Ballroom on West 166th Street between Broadway and St. Nicholas Avenue,
near New York City's famous Columbia-Presbyterian Medical Center.