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civil rights
Thoughts on the Anniversary of 'Letter from Birmingham Jail'
Comparing the religious rhetoric and call to civic virtue of Martin Luther King, Jr. to the vile language and deeds of morally corrupt individuals as Donald Trump, JD Vance, and Pete Hegseth.
Apr 20, 2026
Today is the 63rd anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s release from the Birmingham, Alabama jail in which he penned his famous “Letter from Birmingham Jail.”
The “Letter,” a response to eight White moderate clergyman who publicly called on King’s Southern Christian Leadership Conference to stop its desegregation campaign in the name of “law and order and common sense,” is one of the most widely discussed texts in US history. Most of the discussion has focused, rightly, on the way King carefully and respectfully outlines a justification and strategy of non-violent civil disobedience, to be undertaken when attempts to redress grievances are repeatedly ignored; after careful preparation; and in the name of a higher law. While scholars continue to discuss and debate the nuances of King’s text, the force of his arguments, and their general applicability, there can be no doubt that both the “Letter” and the Birmingham campaign that the “Letter” explains and justifies have informed subsequent generations of protest in the US and the world at large.
At a time when the Trump administration is making war on “domestic enemies” and continuing a campaign of terror against undocumented immigrants and anyone suspected of being “an illegal,” and when citizens have resisted these efforts in the streets of major American cities--most notably in Minneapolis this past January—both King’s example, and his “Letter,” justifiably loom large in public discussion. And while the citizens of Minneapolis surely did not literally follow King’s the letter of King’s “Letter,” their extraordinary and successful campaign of resistance to ICE was surely in the spirit of King’s text and his example.
To read King’s “Letter from Birmingham Jail” is to be reminded of just how low our public life has fallen in the age of Trump...
As I reflect today on the “Letter,” however, I want to focus on a different dimension of the “Letter”: the way King--a holder of a doctorate in theology, a Black Baptist Minister, and the leader of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference—carefully braided together religious and secular rhetoric to make the case for a more inclusive democracy, invoking a range of exemplary religious figures and texts while deliberately using language that was itself manifestly inclusive. Many scholars have written about this. At the same time, I think it bears special emphasis given the way that the Trump administration, in ways large and small, hidden and public, is now promoting, with a vengeance, what can only be described as a form of militant Christian nationalism.
The New York Times reports that “Trump’s Planning of America’s 250th Suggests a Religious Focus.” Columnist Ja'han Jones, writing for MS Now, goes further, observing that “Trump is planning a Christian ‘revival’ for America’s 250th anniversary,” continuing: “Let there be no doubt. The president is using the milestone celebration to promote far-right evangelism and Trump-centric Christianity.”
In the same vein, Politico reports on the administration’s Easter enthusiasm:
several key Cabinet departments [were] heralding Christ’s resurrection on their official social media accounts. “He is risen,” declared the Department of Homeland Security and the State Department. The Defense Department shared a post on X from Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth: “The tomb is empty. The promise is fulfilled. Through His sacrifice, we are redeemed. We stand firm in faith, courage, and truth.” The Justice Department also chimed in on X:“Today, as millions of Christians gather in their churches across the nation to celebrate the resurrection of Christ, this Department—is proud to defend religious liberty.”
Most disturbing has been the way the Trump administration has very publicly treated its war on Iran as a Christian holy war. Trump did this indirectly when he declared, on Good Friday, that:
As we rejoice in this Easter season, we are reminded that the life of Jesus Christ and the truths of the Gospel have inspired our way of life and our national identity for 250 years. From the Christian patriots who won and secured our liberty on the battlefield and every generation since, the love of Christ has unfailingly guided our Nation through calm waters and dark storms. . . . We acknowledge that, through Christ’s redeeming sacrifice, in the words of Holy Scripture, “Death is swallowed up in victory.” Above all, we echo with tremendous joy those sacred words that have given life, hope, and purpose to Christians for thousands of years: He is risen.
Hegseth has been more emphatically bellicose, especially in this much discussed, bone-chilling prayer offered at a recent Pentagon worship service:
Let every round find its mark against the enemies of righteousness and our great nation. Give them wisdom in every decision, endurance for the trial ahead, unbreakable unity, and overwhelming violence of action against those who deserve no mercy.
The administration has been so resolutely Manichean and indeed bloodthirsty in its war rhetoric—with Trump going as far as to threaten the literal annihilation of not simply Iran but Iranian civilization itself—that Pope Leo XIV has felt obliged to publicly weigh in to call it to account. As Trump and his supine protégé JD Vance have responded with a combination of vituperation and arrogance, Leo has become more sharply critical even as he has continued to speak with great nuance. Trump’s Social Truth post representing himself as Jesus Christ, and the widespread charges of “blasphemy” that have followed, are simply surface expressions of the much deeper and more dangerous fact that the Trump administration is acting with utter contempt for any moral or political limits, and doing so by presenting itself as the veritable agent of a Christian holy war against the forces of the anti-Christ.
At a moment when such morally corrupt individuals as Trump, Vance, and Hegseth present themselves as agents of both religious virtue and “American Greatness,” King’s “Letter” exemplifies the way that serious moral and religious commitment can elevate democratic politics.
Beginning his “Letter” by immediately addressing the claim of his religious critics that he is an “outsider,” King makes no bones about his own religious connections and convictions. He points out that as President of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, he has come to Birmingham at the invitation of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. He then goes further, situating himself openly in a long tradition of Christian dissent:
I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the prophets of the eighth century b.c. left their villages and carried their “thus saith the Lord” far beyond the boundaries of their home towns, and just as the Apostle Paul left his village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to the far corners of the Greco-Roman world, so am I compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my own home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid.
But he then quickly shifts to the third and more general reason for his presence, articulating what are the most famous sentences of the “Letter”:
I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial “outside agitator” idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere within its bounds.
From the start, then, King articulates a pluralistic sense of his own identity, as the leader of a specific Christian movement, as a Christian, and as a citizen of the US and indeed of the world.
The entire “Letter” draws its force from King’s consistent and persistent performance of a rhetorical and political pluralism. When rebutting the charge that he is an “extremist,” he begins, famously, by asking “was not Jesus an extremist for love”—and it is relevant that he speaks here of “Jesus” the man, and not “Christ,” not because he abjures the language of “Christ,” but because he wishes to strike an ecumenical tone, and to call attention to a kind of courage to which any good man can aspire. King then continues, in the same paragraph and in the same vein, to list the others with whom he identifies: Amos, Paul, Martin Luther, Paul Bunyan, Lincoln, Jefferson, three of whom are quite obviously not “Christian” at all.
When explaining his distinction between a just and an unjust law, he writes that “a just law is a man-made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law,” and then explains by citing Augustine and Thomas Aquinas, Paul Tillich, “the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber,” and the language of the Brown v. Board decision itself.
When recalling heroic dissidents of the past, he names Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego from the Hebrew Bible’s Book of Daniel, the early Christians, Socrates, and the rebels behind the Boston Tea Party.
Every move King makes in the first half of the “Letter” is deliberately ecumenical, drawing on a plurality of religious sources, Biblical and theological, and a variety of secular sources, from Socrates to the American revolutionaries to Lincoln.
When King then shifts into a more direct critique of the church, he explicitly includes “white ministers, priests, and rabbis.” And when he makes clear his own deep personal Christian faith, charity, and love, he immediately shifts into a more general tone:
In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the church. How could I do otherwise? I am in the rather unique position of being the son, the grandson and the great-grandson of preachers. Yes, I see the church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and through fear of being nonconformists.
What then follows is a long critique of the church for its forgetfulness of a “God intoxication” that demands a concern for justice, concluding that “the judgment of God is upon the church as never before.” But even here, King refuses the rhetoric of jeremiad, opting instead for the words of hopeful persuasion with which he concludes:
I hope this letter finds you strong in the faith. I also hope that circumstances will soon make it possible for me to meet each of you, not as an integrationist or a civil-rights leader but as a fellow clergyman and a Christian brother. Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities, and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty.
In his “Letter” King performs a sincere and serious religious commitment—a Christian, Baptist religious commitment, which he completely owns—while simultaneously performing a commitment to religious pluralism, democratic citizenship, and human rights. He ends with the hope of one day meeting his interlocutors “as a fellow clergyman and a Christian brother” because he is a clergyman and a Christian, who is directly engaging other religious leaders, each of whom leads a different community in a distinct way, and each of whom can be regarded as a kind of “brother.” He does not limit this hope to only Christians. He makes no reference here to Christ or the crucifixion or the resurrection or the end of days or God’s harsh judgment. King speaks not in the language of Holy War or Crusade. He speaks in the language of brotherhood, fraternity, commonality, and citizenship.
And indeed, while speaking in the language of universalism and ecumenicism, King also very deliberately, and emphatically, invokes a distinctly American political tradition of freedom, articulating this political vision:
One day the South will know that when these disinherited children of God sat down at lunch counters, they were in reality standing up for what is best in the American dream and for the most sacred values in our Judaeo-Christian heritage, thereby bringing our nation back to those great wells of democracy which were dug deep by the founding fathers in their formulation of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.
Unlike Trump and Hegseth, who wrap their unaccountable rhetorical and deadly violence in a cloak of evangelical Christian righteousness, Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote these, his most famous words, from a jail cell, while placing his life on the line in the name of a real commitment to freedom and justice. It is impossible to separate out King’s exemplary political courage from his profound Christian convictions, which he shared with his SCLC colleagues, even as he marched and collaborated with many who did not share these convictions. King makes his Christian faith clear. But he makes equally clear that in a democratic society, or at least a society professing democratic values, it is both possible and necessary for people of good will from a variety of religious, cultural, and moral places to reach toward an overlapping and common commitment to equal dignity, justice, and citizenship.
To read King’s “Letter From Birmingham Jail” is to be reminded of just how low our public life has fallen in the age of Trump, and how corrupt, venal, and dangerous is the rhetoric of religious fundamentalism when deployed by cynical autocrats intent on targeting and destroying “enemies.” But it is also to be reminded that words can elevate as well as denigrate, and that true moral conviction, whatever its cultural or religious grounding, can make a real difference in promoting a better, more just and more democratic world.
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Birthright Citizenship Is a Promise We Cannot Break
Defending birthright citizenship is not only about protecting children of immigrants. It is about preserving a constitutional framework that recognizes our shared humanity and limits the government’s ability to decide whose rights matter.
Mar 31, 2026
For more than 150 years, the 14th Amendment has been an uncompromising line: If you are born on US soil, you are a citizen. That principle is so foundational, many of us take it for granted.
But that principle is under attack.
On April 1, the Supreme Court will hear oral arguments challenging President Donald Trump’s effort to end birthright citizenship. At the center of the case is an executive order issued on the first day of Trump’s second term to end Birthright Citizenship for children of undocumented parents.
The justices will now decide whether a president can rewrite one of the clearest promises embedded in American law.
If the court strikes down birthright citizenship, it would let the government decide who counts as American based on the circumstances of their birth.
On the surface, threatening the rights of children born in the United States might seem like an immigration debate. But history tells a different story.
Birthright citizenship was never an abstract ideal. It was a response to America’s long history of dehumanization—a past that Trump and his MAGA allies are now openly trying to resurrect. The 14th Amendment was designed to dismantle a system that denied Black people a political voice, treated us as property, and denied our humanity.
Ratified in 1868, the amendment overturned Dred Scott v. Sandford, which declared that Black people “had no rights which the white man was bound to respect.” Birthright citizenship was meant to be simple and permanent so no government could take it away based on race, ancestry, or political whim.
For formerly enslaved people and their descendants, it guaranteed recognition as full citizens in their own country. But the 14th Amendment did more than correct the injustices of slavery: It expanded who counts as American.
The Constitution says plainly that anyone born in the United States and subject to its laws is a citizen. That principle was reaffirmed by the Supreme Court in United States v. Wong Kim Ark, which ruled that a man born in San Francisco to Chinese immigrant parents was a citizen, establishing that US-born children of immigrants are citizens. This was despite the fact that Chinese immigrants at the time were barred from naturalization under the Chinese Exclusion laws.
The case now before the court seeks to undo that understanding.
If the court strikes down birthright citizenship, it would let the government decide who counts as American based on the circumstances of their birth.
The 14th Amendment’s authors understood the danger of that approach. Once citizenship becomes conditional, every other right soon follows.
Ending birthright citizenship would affect everyone—not just children of immigrants—in a system that has long questioned the belonging of people of color, including Black Americans.
Who must prove their citizenship? Who is presumed to have it? Who gets stopped, questioned, or detained? Who lives under suspicion?
History answers clearly: Marginalized communities pay the price first.
I write this as someone who has spent more than 15 years organizing for racial justice and as a Black man whose citizenship was once explicitly denied by law. Today, I see how systemic racism—from policing to voter suppression—continues to shape the livelihoods of Black Americans.
And that danger does not stop with birthright citizenship: These attacks threaten the entire 14th Amendment, including the Equal Protection and Due Process Clauses that underpin victories against segregation, discrimination, voter suppression, and unchecked government power.
If the government can redefine citizenship, unequal treatment under the law becomes easier to justify. Civil rights become conditional. Equal protection becomes negotiable. State power expands while accountability shrinks.
We have seen this playbook before. After Reconstruction came Jim Crow. During industrialization came the Chinese Exclusion Act. Black workers were excluded from key New Deal protections. The gains of the civil rights movement were followed by voter suppression and mass incarceration.
Each time progress threatened entrenched power, the response was restriction rather than inclusion.
The 14th Amendment was written to break that cycle.
Defending birthright citizenship is not only about protecting children of immigrants. It is about preserving a constitutional framework that recognizes our shared humanity and limits the government’s ability to decide whose rights matter.
So the stakes could not be clearer during these Supreme Court arguments.
Birthright citizenship is more than law. It is the promise that America’s diversity, struggle, and resilience matter. It is the legacy of those who fought to be recognized as fully human—and the foundation of a democracy that must belong to all of us.
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It's Well Beyond Time to Cut Ties With the Anti-Defamation League
While the ADL attacks and smears Palestinians and supporters of Palestinian justice, it gives cover to and helps legitimize (often antisemitic) right-wing politicians and others who back Israel.
Mar 16, 2026
The Anti-Defamation League, or ADL, is holding its annual summit in New York City this week. The ironically-named summit on “hate” features far-right MAGA pastors and politicians, billionaire CEOs, and conservative journalists among its speakers.
No longer putting on the pretense of opposing all forms of bigotry, the ADL has shown it's perfectly comfortable with Trump-era racism. In the year since the last summit, the ADL has withdrawn its criticism of white supremacist groups, denounced antiracist education as "radical," continued to loudly back Israel's genocide in Gaza, and cheered on Immigration and Customs Enforcement deportations of students and other noncitizens who have criticized Israel’s violence and stood in solidarity with the Palestinian people. In fact, the ADL endorsed the executive order issued by President Donald Trump in 2025 targeting critics of Israel and threatening those who aren't US citizens with deportation for protesting in support of Palestinian human rights.
The organization’s Islamophobia has also been front and center. Soon after the election, the ADL singled out New York City’s first Muslim mayor—and a supporter of Palestinian justice—and announced the “Mamdani Monitor: Holding the New Administration Accountable” to track his policies as well as his personnel appointments.
Far from opposing the ascendancy of the white nationalist right, the ADL has doubled down. While it may appear that the ADL’s recent visible displays of its reactionary agenda are the work of its CEO Jonathan Greenblatt alone, in fact, this agenda is not new. But the harm it’s causing is certainly getting worse. The organization’s reactionary political positions—evidenced by its ease in aligning with the likes of Trump and its behavior as an attack dog for Israel’s far-right government—were already clear in its long history of, among other things, Islamophobia and anti-Arab and anti-Palestinian racism.
The ADL’s disturbing positions and actions have become even more aggressive since the genocide in Gaza.
For decades, out of the public eye, the ADL has illegally surveilled Arab Americans, Muslims, social justice activists, members of Congress, and others, including Jews, who speak and act in support of Palestinian justice. It has smeared the groups it targets as “suspect,” using the language of hate, terror, and antisemitism—as when it circulated blacklists of “Arab propagandists” in the 1980s and endorsed the deportation of Mahmoud Khalil for leading protests against Israel’s atrocities. When the NYPD launched aggressive, unconstitutional surveillance of the Muslim community post-9/11, justifying it as part of the domestic and global “war on terror,” the ADL gave an award to the program’s commanding officer.
The ADL’s disturbing positions and actions have become even more aggressive since the genocide in Gaza. As law professor and legal scholar Sahar Aziz points out, the organization has attempted to “criminalize Muslim and Palestinian students, as well as Jewish, queer, and BIPOC students” for opposing Israel’s actions. It has continued to attack Muslim and Arab American groups like Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) and the American-Arab Anti-Discrimination Committee (ADC), which have challenged the ADL’s anti-Muslim racism.
The organization has continually platformed Islamophobes and anti-Palestinian bigots. In 2024, more than 60 Muslim, Arab, Palestinian, and other organizations condemned the ADL for its consistent pattern of fostering anti-Palestinian hate and for giving a platform to anti-Muslim Pastor John Hagee. In 2025, ADL leaders elected to its board Johnnie Moore who was the executive chairman of the so-called “Gaza Humanitarian Foundation,” which was responsible for numerous massacres of starving Palestinians. And its summit this week features archconservative pastor Samuel Rodriguez, who has made hateful remarks against Muslims as well as LGBTQ people.
While the ADL attacks and smears Palestinians and supporters of Palestinian justice, it gives cover to and helps legitimize (often antisemitic) right-wing politicians and others who back Israel. Excusing Elon Musk’s notorious Nazi salute and ignoring Trump’s invoking of conspiracy theories are just two examples of its hypocrisy.
As aptly stated by Vince Warren, executive director of the Center for Constitutional Rights (CCR), one of the hundreds of signatories on an open letter to progressives to #DroptheADL, “The focus of civil rights organizations should be on critiquing state power and not about targeting those who critique state power.”
As the ADL’s reactionary agenda becomes clearer for all to see, there is a growing groundswell of social justice activists, progressive Jewish groups, educational institutions, and members of every profession who are pressuring policymakers to stop cooperating with the organization. The urgency of educators, political leaders, organizations, and others breaking ties with the ADL in this deeply racist, repressive national climate can’t be overstated.
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