http://www.democracynow.org/2013/2/1/long_distance_revolutionary_mumia_abu_jamals
AMY GOODMAN: Eddie Vedder, singing "Society," here on Democracy Now!, democracynow.org, The War and Peace Report. I’m Amy Goodman. The song is in this new documentary that’s premiering in the United States tonight. It is called Long Distance Revolutionary: A Journey with Mumia Abu-Jamal_. And we’re joined now by its filmmakers. The film was written, produced and directed by Steve Vittoria, produced by Noelle Hanrahan, as well, of Prison Radio Project. Steve Vittoria, a longtime documentary filmmaker. death">We recently featured his 2005 documentary, One Bright Shining Moment, about Senator George McGovern. We’ll speak with them in a moment, but we wanted to bring you an exclusive, extended look at Mumia’s early life in Philadelphia’s Black Panther Party and as a radio reporter. In this excerpt, you hear from Mumia Abu-Jamal’s sister and former colleagues.
UNIDENTIFIED: It was gone, forever.
REPORTER: Ozora, let me ask you: What did Cassius say to you when you stepped into the ring and shook hands with him before the Terrell fight?
MUHAMMAD ALI: Muhammad Ali, no Cassius.
REPORTER: Excuse me, Muhammad Ali.
UNIDENTIFIED: "'Cassius Clay' is a slave name. I didn’t choose it, and I didn’t want it. I am Muhammad Ali."
TERRY BISSON: He had a few great teachers. And one of them, who was from Kenya, taught the kids Swahili. And Mumia thought this was super cool, and so he decided he was going to take a Swahili name. He called it "Mumsia" at first, because he didn’t quite get it right.
LYDIA BARASHANGO: I guess that’s when I kind of gave him props. You got a new name. You know, this is really great. You dropped your slave name.
TERRY BISSON: I don’t know what his mother thought of that. I’m not sure he insisted that she call him Mumia.
LYDIA BARASHANGO: "I don’t care nothing about that stuff! I named you Wesley Cook! That’s your name! I don’t care what you try to call yourself! You’re Wesley Cook!" And she fought it for so long. But I know that Mumia went through some days where he ignored her calling him Wesley Cook. You know, "I changed my name, Mom."
GOV. GEORGE WALLACE: In the name of the greatest people that have ever trod this earth, I draw the line in the dust and toss the gauntlet before the feet of tyranny, and I say segregation now, segregation tomorrow, and segregation forever.
TERRY BISSON: George Wallace is running for president in '68. The civil rights movement is in full cry in the South. The country is changing. It's being led by groups like SNCC and the Panthers. Mumia wanted to be part of that change.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: George Wallace was a candidate on the American Independent Party, very, very right-wing, although he probably wouldn’t be considered very right-wing in terms of America’s political context today, would he? We were four black kids, teenagers, from North Philadelphia. And this avowed white supremacist, this racist from the depths of the South, dared to come to our city. Well, we went down to the Spectrum. There were tens of thousands of white people, you know, waving flags. And you had George Wallace making his standard stump speech.
GOV. GEORGE WALLACE: And I want to tell you this, that anybody who raises any money and blood and clothes for the Viet Cong communists, who are today hitting American servicemen, are guilty of treason under the Constitution of the United States.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: At that time, we weren’t very original, so the only thing we said was "Ungawa! Black Power! Ungawa! Black Power!"
GIANCARLO ESPOSITO: "Black Power! Ungawa! Black Power!" They shouted, "Wallace for president! White power!" and "Send those niggers back to Africa!" We shouted, "Black Power! Ungawa!" Don’t ask what "Ungawa" means; we didn’t know. All we knew is it had a hell of a ring to it.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: The police surrounded us, you know, in a matter of moments and escorted us—rather roughly, I should say—out of the Spectrum. There were people spitting on us. "Nigger this, nigger that." I remember being pummeled and being beaten to the ground. And I remember looking around, and I saw a pant leg. It was blue and had a stripe on it, so it told me this was a cop. So, doing what I was taught to do all my life, I said, "Yo, help! Police!" You know? I remember the guy walking over very briskly and his foot going back, kicking me in the face, kicking me. And I’ve always said "thank you" to that cop, because he kicked me straight into the Black Panther Party.
AMY GOODMAN: That was Mumia Abu-Jamal in the new documentary, Long Distance Revolutionary: A Journey with Mumia Abu-Jamal, that is opening around the country starting today. The producer, writer, director of the film, Steve Vittoria, joins us, as well as the co-producer, Noelle Hanrahan of the Prison Radio Project. We welcome you both to Democracy Now! These last few minutes you just heard Mumia on the phone directly from prison, but you just visited him yesterday, Steve.
STEPHEN VITTORIA: I was there with him yesterday. It was another one of our extraordinary visits together. I know it’s hard to believe that you go to a, you know, maximum security prison, and when he was on death row, and you have a good time. It’s really hard. It’s not a good time for Mumia, but he makes it a good time. What we’ve tried to do with the film is capture Mumia’s personality, the compassion, the love that Mumia has for people, because ultimately I think that’s what true revolutionaries—that’s where they come from. They come from a place of love. I made the film because, you know, you wake up in a country, Amy, and you realize that the country is being run by mass murderers, economic rapists and general, run-of-the-mill psychopaths, so I started to look for some sanity. And for me, I found sanity in a dark, dank hall on death row in Pennsylvania. I had been a longtime reader of Mumia’s material, listening to the incredible broadcasts that you guys have broadcast. And my partner, Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio, has—a Herculean task—gotten his voice out all over the world. I wanted to offer some sanity. You know, John Pilger says that we have made the unthinkable normal in this world, and the normal unthinkable. I wanted to offer a ray of hope and some sanity, that Mumia, I think, offers all of us. You know, the people in this country have been offered war and violence and no healthcare and, you know, horrific contribution to the death of the planet. Mumia offers the opposite of that. And people ask me, they say, you know, "Well, how do you make a film about someone so radical?" I don’t think Mumia is radical at all. What I find radical are people that can lob cruise missiles into neighborhoods. So that’s what we’re trying to do: We’re trying to offer sanity.
AMY GOODMAN: From McGovern, subject of one of your films, to Mumia Abu-Jamal, what’s the trajectory?
STEPHEN VITTORIA: It’s a huge trajectory. George, as you know, was a—he was sort of his own—
AMY GOODMAN: The former senator, former presidential candidate.
STEPHEN VITTORIA: George McGovern. He was—he was a revolutionary within the system. I don’t know if that can ever work. George tried, and he made some changes. But real change comes from outside the system, and I think that Mumia is a bright, shining example of that.
AMY GOODMAN: Noelle Hanrahan, you have been making possible the broadcasts of Mumia Abu-Jamal’s life for many years, of his voice from prison, from death row, which Steve said is a Herculean task. We’ve run some of his commentaries. Why this film is important? It doesn’t focus on his case, actually.
NOELLE HANRAHAN: The state has always tried to minimize what Mumia means to the movements and also as Mumia as the journalist. And what we do is show you why his voice is important, and it deconstructs the right-wing narrative of that. If Mumia Abu-Jamal had been on the streets, had been able to be a reporter for the last 30 years, we may not be in this situation. The suppression of his voice, I believe, is directly related to what he has to say. And Prison Radio humanizes prisoners. It brings prisoners’ voices into the public debate and dialogue. I trust that this country needs that information and that we can make better decisions if we hear these people. Mumia happens to be an extraordinary journalist, reporting from an extraordinary place. And he demands to be into the public debate and dialogue.
AMY GOODMAN: The film opens today in New York City. It’s at Cinema Village and will run through the weekend, right through Super Bowl Sunday, and around the country, Steve?
STEPHEN VITTORIA: Yes. We start in New York City. We go to Seattle. We go to Miami. We go to New Orleans. And then we open in Los Angeles, my new home town, on March 1st, and on from there. So it’s—New York is our launch, and it’s really, really important to the success of the film.
AMY GOODMAN: That’s Cinema Village here in New York. And in Los Angeles in March, it will be at the Beverly Hills Laemmle. This is Democracy Now! I want to thank you both for being with us.
STEPHEN VITTORIA: Thank you.
AMY GOODMAN: Steve Vittoria, director, producer, writer of the film, Long Distance Revolutionary: A Journey with Mumia Abu-Jamal. Noelle Hanrahan of Prison Radio co-produced this film. This is Democracy Now! When we come back, we’re going to talk Super Bowl Sunday. We’re going to talk about brain injuries. We’re going to talk about the dangers football players and others face, with someone who knows, with a former football player himself, who now runs a major brain injury institute at Harvard University. Stay with us.
http://www.democracynow.org/2013/2/1/mumia_abu_jamal_the_united_states
In a rare live interview, Mumia Abu-Jamal calls into Democracy Now! as the new film, "Long Distance Revolutionary," about his life premieres in New York City this weekend. After 29 years on death row, he is now being held in general population at the Pennsylvania State Correctional Institution – Mahanoy. "How free are we today, those who claim to be non-prisoners? Your computers are being read by others in government. Your letters, your phone calls are being intercepted," says Mumia Abu-Jamal. "We live now in a national security state, where the United States is fast becoming one of the biggest open-air prisons on earth. We can speak about freedom, and the United States has a long and distinguished history of talking about freedom, but have we exampled freedom? And I think the answer should be very clear: We have not." In 1982, Mumia was sentenced to die for killing Philadelphia police officer Daniel Faulkner. He has always maintained his innocence and is perhaps America’s most famous political prisoner. In 2011, an appeals court upheld his conviction, but also vacated his death sentence. It found jurors were given confusing instructions.
Guest: Mumia Abu-Jamal, former death row prisoner. For decades, Abu-Jamal has argued racism by the trial judge and prosecutors led to his conviction for the killing of Philadelphia police officer Daniel Faulkner. Last year, the 3rd U.S. Circuit Court of Appeals set aside his death sentence after finding jurors were given confusing instructions that encouraged them to choose the death penalty rather than a life sentence.
Links "Long Distance Revolutionary: A Journey With Mumia Abu-Jamal" Film Website
Free Mumia Abu-Jamal Website
Editor's Picks "Long Distance Revolutionary": New Documentary Tells Untold Story of Mumia Abu-Jamal’s Life Journey Oct 22, 2012 | Story
Exclusive: Mumia Abu-Jamal Speaks from Prison on Life After Death Row and His Quest for Freedom Apr 25, 2012 | Story
NAACP: Mumia Abu-Jamal Victory over Death Penalty Signals Turning Tide Against Capital Punishment Dec 15, 2011 | Story
South African Archbishop Desmond Tutu Calls for Release of Mumia Abu-Jamal Dec 08, 2011 | Story
AMY GOODMAN: Juan, we’d like to ask you to stay on the phone as we move from the death of Mayor Koch to a new documentary, which you also are in. That documentary is premiering in theaters today. It’s called Long Distance Revolutionary: A Journey with Mumia Abu-Jamal. In 1982, Mumia Abu-Jamal was sentenced to die for killing Philadelphia police officer Daniel Faulkner. He has always maintained his innocence, is perhaps America’s most famous prisoner. In 2011, an appeals court upheld his conviction, but also vacated his death sentence. It found jurors were given confusing instructions. When prosecutors said they would no longer pursue the death penalty, Mumia Abu-Jamal was transferred into the general prison population. In a moment, we’re going to play an excerpt from the film, but first we’re joined by Mumia Abu-Jamal himself from prison in Pennsylvania, not SCI Greene, where he was on death row, but in—well, Mumia, welcome to Democracy Now! Why don’t you tell us where you are?
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Good morning. I’m in the eastern side of Pennsylvania for the first time in a quarter of a century—actually, more. It’s called Mahanoy—don’t ask me what it means; I have no idea. But it’s not far from Philadelphia and pretty close to New York City.
AMY GOODMAN: Can you tell us what it means to no longer be on death row?
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Well, I could, but I’d be lying, because I call this "slow death row." "Life" in Pennsylvania means life. Pennsylvania has one of the largest "life" populations of any state in the United States. It had the distinction of having the absolute highest number of juvenile lifers of any state in the United States—indeed, of any jurisdiction in the world. So, that should give you some sense.
AMY GOODMAN: Juan, if you’re still there, if you’d like to ask Mumia Abu-Jamal a question?
JUAN GONZÁLEZ: Well, Mumia, I know that over the years—it’s been a while since we’ve talked, but over the years this enormous movement has developed around the world demanding your freedom and your—and insisting on the unjust nature of the trial that occurred many years ago in your case. Your reflections on this enormous movement that has developed and its role in terms of the prison-industrial complex, in general, and your case, in particular?
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Well, I think it is the essence of a grassroots movement, because it came from the bottom, not from the top. These were people who—many of whom I knew in freedom and who would not let me go and would not leave me alone and held on to me despite every challenge. At the core, of course, are people that I fell in love with many years ago, known as the MOVE Organization. And so, from several members of the MOVE Organization—Pam Africa, Ramona Africa—they built around them a grassroots organization that is in many ways unprecedented in organizing. You know, I’ve studied movements. I’ve been in movements all my life. I’ve, you know, written a few history books about the stuff. But to be in the core of it and see it is another thing, and it’s nothing less than remarkable. And it continues to grow, to build, and to demand an end to mass incarceration, an end to what I’ve called "slow death row," an end to solitary confinement, you know. It’s a vibrant movement. Like every movement, it ebbs, it flows. But to be perfectly honest, it’s still with us, and anyone who denies that either is blind or a fool.
AMY GOODMAN: Mumia, are you still appealing your case?
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Yes. I have always appealed. I have always fought. And there’s no reason to not do so now. In this point in time, we are kind of in an interim, because we had kind of a shadow sentencing with no presence, no arguments, no briefs, no anything. You know, we kind of got an order one day saying, you know, "You’re a lifer." That isn’t what the rules provide. And so, there’s been certainly resistance on that score. But, you know, anyone who knows anything about the case, anyone who’s read the Amnesty International report on the case, knows that my case is rife with new rules, all the time. So, this is just new rules.
AMY GOODMAN: Last week, Mumia Abu-Jamal, did you witness the inauguration, the second inauguration of President Obama? And I’m wondering your thoughts.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: I did, indeed. It was with a mixture of sadness, in some respects, sadness at lost opportunities, but also a kind of wonder. I mean, you have to admit that Barack Hussein Obama is one of the most talented politicians and skillful political forces this country has ever seen. Now, it is also true that that is so largely because of certain constituencies in this country that pushed that candidacy; sadness because many of the hopes of many of those constituencies have been dashed. That’s the nature of politics in many ways: You run one way, and you rule another. And someone—I think it was Mario Cuomo—said that you—you run in poetry, but you govern in prose.
AMY GOODMAN: Mumia, as you are off of death row, or as you call it, "slow death row," what is it like to be there with other people? We wanted to speak to you yesterday on the phone, but you had an appointment at the law library which you didn’t want to miss. Talk about your life behind bars.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Well, let me talk about the men that are around me. It may not surprise you that a lot of these guys are black men. A lot of them are very old black men. I remember, and still feel, the shock of seeing a line of men in wheelchair being rolled to chow. I stopped, because you saw these wheelchairs coming out of the mist; I’ve never seen—I’ve never seen anything like that. But from this great expansive age. You can see very, very young men, men who don’t even shave. So, you can see the span of black manhood from teenagers—literally, teenagers—to men in their sixties and seventies and beyond. And it is a stunning thing to see. And the size. You know, there must be 2,200 men in this population, but the size is just stunning. And to be walking around in the midst of 400, 500 men is an experience, you know, that I had to relearn, because I had surely forgotten it.
AMY GOODMAN: You’re writing a book, yet another book, in prison? You’ve written a number of them.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Yes, yes. This is my second with a co-author, Steve Vittoria, the great filmmaker.
AMY GOODMAN: Who is joining us right here in the studio right now.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: We are, shall we say, Zinnian historians. So, we’re looking at the world, looking at the empire, through our own eyes and writing out of not just our research, although the research is extensive, we’re writing out of our hearts and out of our experiences. And in the spirit of Howard Zinn, it is from below, deep, deep below—
OPERATOR: This call is from the State Correctional Institution at Mahanoy and is subject to monitoring and recording.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: But I assure you, we will present something richer than many people have ever seen before. It is a labor of historical lust, and great fun.
AMY GOODMAN: What are you calling the book?
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Murder Incorporated.
AMY GOODMAN: Why that title?
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Well, it comes from LBJ, Lyndon Baines Johnson, who, upon the assassination of John F. Kennedy, when he acceded to the presidency and he began getting reports about what was happening in Central America, he was famously quoted as saying "My god! We’re running a goddamn Murder Incorporated down here." And indeed they were.
AMY GOODMAN: Mumia, I know that your line is going to be cut off in a minute, and I was wondering what message do you have to people outside the bars right now?
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: Well, increasingly, that space has expanded, because if you look inside the bars, you’re looking at millions of men and women and juveniles, as I noted before. But even beyond that, I mean, how free are we today, those who claim to be non-prisoners? Your computers are being read by others in government. Your letters, your phone calls are being intercepted. We live now in a national security state, where the United States is fast becoming one of the biggest open-air prisons on earth. I mean, we can speak about freedom, and the United States has a long and distinguished—
OPERATOR: You have 60 seconds remaining.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: —long and distinguished history of talking about freedom, but have we exampled freedom? And I think the answer should be very clear: We have not. And we’re becoming a less free nation every day. And I think people should rise up, and I think they should organize. And I think, frankly, they should raise hell. You know, if you don’t want to join our movement, join some movement, but damn it, do something, because we are in an age that we may never be able to capture again.
OPERATOR: You have 30 seconds remaining.
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: So—
AMY GOODMAN: Mumia, if the widow of Daniel Faulkner, the prisoner—the police officer who you were convicted of killing, is listening, what do you have to say to her?
MUMIA ABU-JAMAL: That the struggle for justice and freedom did not end on December 9th, 1981; it began then. And she should join us, because our movement is growing.
AMY GOODMAN: Mumia, I want to thank you for being with us. Mumia Abu-Jamal, just cut off at SCI Mahanoy in Pennsylvania, the prison where he now resides. He was on death row in Pennsylvania for 29 years, now is in prison for life, award-winning journalist, chronicles the human condition. When we come back, we’re joined by two people who have made a film about his life, Long Distance Revolutionary. Stay with us.
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