[Mr. Davis wrote the following in response to a magazine editor's question: Why did you eulogizeMalcolm X?] You are not the only person curious to know why I would eulogize a man like MalcolmX. Many who know and respect me have written letters. Of these letters I am proudest of those from asixth-grade class of young white boys and girls who asked me to explain. I appreciate your giving methis chance to do so.

　　You may anticipate my defense somewhat by considering the following fact: no Negro has yet askedme that question. (My pastor in Grace Baptist Church where I teach Sunday School preached a sermonabout Malcolm in which he called him a "giant in a sick world.") Every one of the many letters I gotfrom my own people lauded Malcolm as a man, and commended me for having spoken at his funeral.

　　At the same time-and this is important-most of them took special pains to disagree with much or all ofwhat Malcolm said and what he stood for. That is, with one singing exception, they all, every last,black, glory-hugging one of them, knew that Malcolm-whatever else he was or was not-_Malcolm wasa man_!

　　White folks do not need anybody to remind them that they are men. We do! This was his oneincontrovertible benefit to his people.

　　Protocol and common sense require that Negroes stand back and let the white man speak up for us,defend us, and lead us from behind the scene in our fight. This is the essence of Negro politics. ButMalcolm said to hell with that! Get up off your knees and fight your own battles. That's the way to winback your self-respect. That's the way to make the white man respect you. And if he won't let you livelike a man, he certainly can't keep you from dying like one!

　　Malcolm, as you can see, was refreshing excitement; he scared hell out of the rest of us, bred as we areto caution, to hypocrisy in the presence of white folks, to the smile that never fades. Malcolm knewthat every white man in America profits directly or indirectly from his position vis-a-vis Negroes,profits from racism even though he does not practice it or believe in it.

　　He also knew that every Negro who did not challenge on the spot every instance of racism, overt orcovert, committed against him and his people, who chose instead to swallow his spit and go onsmiling, was an Uncle Tom and a traitor, without balls or guts, or any other commonly accepted aspects of manhood!

　　Now, we knew all these things as well as Malcolm did, but we also knew what happened to peoplewho stick their necks out and say them. And if all the lies we tell ourselves by way of extenuationwere put into print, it would constitute one of the great chapters in the history of man's justifiablecowardice in the face of other men.

　　But Malcolm kept snatching our lies away. He kept shouting the painful truth we whites and blacksdid not want to hear from all the housetops. And he wouldn't stop for love nor money.

　　You can imagine what a howling, shocking nuisance this man was to both Negroes and whites. OnceMalcolm fastened on you, you could not escape. He was one of the most fascinating and charmingmen I have ever met, and never hesitated to take his attractiveness and beat you to death with it. Yethis irritation, though painful to us, was most salutary. He would make you angry as hell, but hewould also make you proud. It was impossible to remain defensive and apologetic about being aNegro in his presence. He wouldn't let you. And you always left his presence with the sneakysuspicion that maybe, after all, you _were_ a man!

　　But in explaining Malcolm, let me take care not to explain him away. He had been a criminal, anaddict, a pimp, and a prisoner; a racist, and a hater, he had really believed the white man was a devil.

　　But all this had changed. Two days before his death, in commenting to Gordon Parks about his pastlife he said: "That was a mad scene. The sickness and madness of those days! I'm glad to be free ofthem."And Malcolm was free. No one who knew him before and after his trip to Mecca could doubt that hehad completely abandoned racism, separatism, and hatred. But he had not abandoned his shock-effectstatements, his bristling agitation for immediate freedom in this country not only for blacks, but foreverybody. And most of all, in the area of race relations, he still delighted in twisting the white man'stail, and in making Uncle Toms, compromisers and accommodationists-I deliberately include myself-thoroughly ashamed of the urbane and smiling hypocrisy we practice merely to exist in a worldwhose values we both envy and despise.

　　But even had Malcolm not changed, he would still have been a relevant figure on the American scene,standing in relation as he does, to the "responsible" civil rights leaders, just about where John Brownstood in relation to the "responsible abolitionists in the fight against slavery. Almost all disagreed withBrown's mad and fanatical tactics which led him foolishly to attack a Federal arsenal at Harpers Ferry,to lose two sons there, and later to be hanged for treason.

　　Yet today the world, and especially the Negro people, proclaim Brown not a traitor, but a hero and amartyr in a noble cause So in future, I will not be surprised if men come to see that Malcolm X was,within his own limitations, and in his own inimitable style, also a martyr in that cause.

　　But there is much controversy still about this most controversial American, and I am content to wait for history to make the final decision.

　　But in personal judgment, there is no appeal from instinct. I knew the man personally, and howevermuch I disagreed with him, I never doubted that Malcolm X, even when he was wrong, was alwaysthat rarest thing in the world among us Negroes: a true man. And if to protect my relations with themany good white folk who make it possible for me to earn a fairly good living in the entertainmentindustry, I was too chicken, too cautious, to admit that fact when he was alive, I thought at least thatnow when all the white folks are safe from him at last, I could be honest with myself enough to lift myhat for one final salute to that brave, black, ironic gallantry, which was his style and hallmark, thatshocking _zing_ of fire-and-be-damned-to-you, so absolutely absent in every other Negro man I know,which brought him, too soon, to his death.

　　 Alex Haley is the world-renowned author of _Roots_, which has sold six million hardcover copies andhas been translated into thirty languages. He is the winner of the Pulitzer Prize and the National BookAward. Alex Haley died, at the age of seventy, in February 1992.