agencies and individuals were keenly interested in what Malcolm X was saying abroad, and were
speculating upon what would he say, and possibly do, when he returned to America. In upstate
New York, I received a telephone call from a close friend who said he had been asked to ask me
if I would come to New York City on an appointed day to meet with "a very high government
official" who was interested in Malcolm X. I did fly down to the city. My friend accompanied me to
the offices of a large private foundation well known for its activities and donations in the civilrights
area. I met the foundation's president and he introduced me to the Justice Department Civil
Rights Section head, Burke Marshall. Marshall was chiefly interested in Malcolm X's finances,
particularly how his extensive traveling since his Black Muslim ouster had been paid for. I told him
that to the best of my knowledge the several payments from the publisher had financed Malcolm
X, along with fees he received for some speeches, and possible donations that his organization
received, and that Malcolm X had told me of borrowing money from his Sister Ella for the current
trip, and that recently the Saturday Evening Post had bought the condensation rights of the
book for a substantial sum that was soon to be received. Marshall listened quietly, intently, and
asked a few questions concerning other aspects of
Malcolm X's life, then thanked me. I wrote to Malcolm X in Cairo that night about the interview. He
never mentioned it.
The Saturday Evening Post flew photographer John Launois to Cairo to locate Malcolm X and
photograph him in color. The magazine's September 12issue appeared, and I sent a copy by
airmail to Malcolm X. Within a few days, I received a stinging note, expressing his anger at the
magazine's editorial regarding his life story. (The editorial's opening sentence read, "If Malcolm X
were not a Negro, his autobiography would be little more than a journal of abnormal psychology,
the story of a burglar, dope pusher, addict and jailbird-with a family history of insanity-who
acquires messianic delusions and sets forth to preach an upside-down religion of 'brotherly'
hatred.") I wrote to Malcolm X that he could not fairly hold me responsible for what the magazine
had written in a separate editorial opinion. He wrote an apology, "but the greatest care must be
exercised in the future."
His return from Africa was even more auspicious than when he had returned from the Hajj
pilgrimage to Mecca. A large group of Negroes, his followers and well-wishers, kept gathering in
the Overseas Arrival Building at Kennedy Airport. When I entered, white men with cameras were
positioned on the second level, taking pictures of all the Negroes who entered, and almost as
obvious were Negro plain-clothesmen moving about. Malcolm's greeters had draped across the
glass overlooking the U.S. Customs Inspection line some large cloth banners on which were
painted in bold letters, "Welcome Home, Malcolm."
He came in sight, stepping into one of the Customs Inspection lines; he heard the cheering and
he looked up, smiling his pleasure.
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