The raging controversy over affirmative action is reviving a century-old debate in the black community: By what means will lasting progress come for African Americans? Will change come through political protest that leads to revised laws, giving equal opportunity and even restitution for past wrongs? Or will it come by means of personal responsibility, disciplined hard work, education and traditional family values? And who will voice our options?

I am no stranger to political protest. Twenty-five years ago, I was nearly beaten to death in a Mississippi jail for leading protest marches and boycotts against discrimination and unjust laws for black Mississippians. My children bravely survived the loneliness, the cruelty, and the emotional stress that accompanied integrating an all-white school in the '60s. Like many other black leaders, I was willing to die to change America for our children.

Did we change America? Yes. Would I do it again? Yes. But did those changes satisfy the longings that gnaw at my gut? No! As long as violence, hopelessness, moral and spiritual decay exist in our inner cities, I will feel that pain.

Over thirty years ago, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. etched into our memories the dream of a day in America when our children would "be judged not by the color of their skin but by the content of their character." But some in the black community who shared his dream believed his means of achieving it amounted to a fantasy that would become a nightmare.

Malcolm X called the famous march on Washington a farce. He believed freedom and dignity could not be bought with white money or given by a white establishment. Rather, he believed that if freedom and dignity were to have any lasting value, they would have to be earned by black hands and demanded by a people who had won the respect, not the love, of their former slave master.

What's Best For Blacks?
Nearly a century ago Booker T. Washington and W.E.B. Du Bois held a similar debate as to which type of education would best help the newly freed Negro take his place in the American society.

Washington insisted that the Negro "cast down your buckets where you are" in vocations such as agriculture, mechanics, commerce and domestic service-a "work your way up from the bottom" approach. He urged Negroes to maintain a conciliatory relationship with White America.

Du Bois, on the other hand, stressed higher education in the humanities and liberal arts. He spoke of a "Black Power" achievable through economic and political unity of black people. And, unlike Washington, he encouraged protest and agitation to force political change.

This great debate over the best path to progress for black Americans revealed itself in our political loyalties. Most Blacks view today's Republican Party as uncompassionate and protecting the interests of the wealthy. But more than 100 years ago it was Lincoln's Republican Party that freed the slaves. And for 50 years following emancipation, ex-slaves gave it their allegiance.

But beginning in 1908 a slow defection from the Republican Party began with the urging of black radicals like Du Bois who saw Republicans as against higher education for Blacks and in favor of keeping them in subordinate roles to Whites.

Not until the onset of the Great Depression of the '20s and '30s, when white and black alike needed government assistance, did Blacks begin to join the Democratic Party en masse. By 1960, under President John F. Kennedy, the defection was complete.

Under Kennedy and Lyndon Johnson's presidencies, Blacks achieved unprecedented political advancement. Black politicians like Adam Clayton Powell were pivotal in getting critical pro-black legislation passed. President Johnson, at Howard University, stated, "You do not take a person who for years has been hobbled by chains and liberate him, bring him up to the starting line of a race and then say, 'You're free to compete with others,' and justly believe that you have been fair" -and the Affirmative Action programs of the "Great Society" were launched.

During the '70s and '80s the Democratic Party continued to enjoy almost unanimous support from Blacks. And even as we move into the mid '90s, many Blacks find it difficult to imagine being anything but loyal to the part under which we got our "second emancipation."

But once again defections have begun. Black conservatives like Clarence Thomas, author Shelby Steele and talk show host Tony Brown have turned their backs on government preferences won in the '60s and '70s and now say those programs do more harm than good to black Americans. Furthermore, they insist that these programs breed unnecessary antagonism with white America.

The Limits of Politics
While there is little argument that many Blacks have benefited from Affirmative Action, now even the beneficiaries are beginning to ask questions. Can Affirmative Action reach the black "underclass?" Is it now doing more harm than good to up and coming African Americans?

Some say Affirmative Action discourages black responsibility and excellence by allowing Blacks to advance without the effort necessary to gain the respect of their White counterparts. Others can point to thousands and thousands of Blacks who have directly benefited from these programs, of which concrete proof is the new black middle class.

But as I look around my inner-city community in Pasadena, California, where the problems are getting worse, the haunting question remains: What of the growing black "underclass"?

Neither conservative nor liberal political realities have much to say on how we should approach our black inner-city areas.

Yes, discrimination still exists. But racism alone cannot explain the staggering black-on-black murder rate in our cities. Although progressive political policies have helped many Blacks, even members of my own family, they do not address the growing violence, lawlessness and family break-down of our inner cities. They are not touching the lives of the purposeless gangs of young men who shoot dice on the corner across the street from my house. They cannot stop the moral and spiritual decay consuming our communities.

We must continue supporting local and national policies that are moral, that reward individual and community initiative, that are responsive to problems at the grassroots level and, most of all, are family-friendly. But government cannot, through impersonal programs, be a substitute for personal involvement.

It is the 11th hour for the black community. It is time for black people to take responsibility for their own lives, the lives of their children and the lives of their community.

My Brother's Keeper?
One thing both the conservative and liberal black middle class have in common is that neither is taking much responsibility for people not fortunate enough to have a special hand reach out to them.

Those of you now enjoying a "piece of the pie," think back. Someone helped you along the way-the stability of a complete family unit, an aunt or uncle, a teacher who took special interest in you, a pastor or a coach. Maybe it's time to start giving something back. Too many of our young are growing up without any kind of positive stabilizing influence.

We must be willing to be that hand that reaches out and helps someone else along. We black men must be willing to be surrogate fathers to boys who don't have a positive male figure in their lives. We all must each do our fair share.

"Am I my brother's keeper?" was the question Cain put to an angry God in an attempt to shirk his responsibility. The answer to that question is the same today as it was then: Yes! Although we need good government in partnership with us, the destiny of the black community lies in the hands of black Americans, not in the hands of a particular political party.

Time to Ante Up
As African-American Christians, we must be able to both stand unwavering for justice-whether political or individual-and at the same time passionately insist on personal responsibility.

When our beloved leaders like Jesse Jackson and Myrlie Evers point out injustices still entrenched in our American way of life, we must be able to applaud. But that same stance for justice should be applied even-handedly, including to our unborn children.

When a Louis Farrakhan says that Blacks should support each other in business and that black-on-black killing must stop, we must be able to say, "Amen" even while disagreeing with his other views.

And when a Clarence Thomas or an Alan Keyes says we must spend more time seizing opportunities that already exist and take responsibility for our own future, we must be able to say, "Preach it, brothers," with equal enthusiasm.

For years black people have benefited from the ACLU's commitment to civil rights. But when this organization cannot understand the crisis facing our black boys and the need to take drastic steps like establishing special all-boys' schools, we must speak out passionately against our old ally and let its leaders know they do not speak for us.

The question of who speaks for the black community can and should be a rhetorical question that encourages healthy debate.

Both Booker T. and W.E.B. wanted what was best for black Americans. Their passionate arguments about how to achieve this seemed, at the time, irreconcilable.

Dr. King achieved much for Blacks in the '50s and '60s, partly because of white realization of the possible alternatives-the anger of a Malcolm X, or the "black power" of a Stokely Carmichael for example.

Today's debate over our next step as African-Americans into the 21st century will undoubtedly be argued with the same passion. Hopefully we have learned from the progress and the setbacks of the past that there can be no substitute for personal involvement and responsibility.

The debate should, and will, continue. A healthy debate will only serve to make us stronger. Meanwhile, black America, if we are to captain our own ship, we must recognize that during a storm the ship requires "ALL HANDS ON DECK."

Dr. John Perkins is publisher of URBAN FAMILY Magazine, and Chairman of the Christian Community Development Association. He is the author of numerous books, including, Let Justice Roll Down and Beyond Charity. His latest book, He's My Brother, is published by Baker Books.

Copyright © 1995 URBAN FAMILY Magazine/John M. Perkins Foundation