Ralph Ellison - Invisible man

"In my defense?" I said, "Nothing. I haven't anything to defend. I've tried to do my work and if the brothers don't know that, then it's too late to tell them. I don't know what's behind this, but I haven't gotten around to controlling magazine writers. And I didn't realize that I was coming to stand trial either."

"This was not intended as a trial," Brother Jack said. "If you're ever put on trial, and I hope you'll never be, you'll know it. Meantime, since this is an emergency the committee asks that you leave the room while we read and discuss the questioned interview."

I left the room and went into a vacant office, boiling with anger and disgust. Wrestrum had snatched me back to the South in the midst of one of the top Brotherhood committees and I felt naked. I could have throttled him -- forcing me to take part in a childish dispute before the others. Yet I had to fight him as I could, in terms he understood, even though we sounded like characters in a razor-slinging vaudeville skit. Perhaps I should mention the anonymous note, except that someone might take it to mean that I didn't have the full support of my district. If Clifton were here, he'd know how to handle this clown. Were they taking him seriously just because he was black? What was wrong with them anyway, couldn't they see that they were dealing with a clown? But I would have gone to pieces had they laughed or even smiled, I thought, for they couldn't laugh at him without laughing at me as well ... Yet if they had laughed, it would have been less unreal -- Where the hell am I?

"You can come in now," a brother called to me; and I went out to hear their decision.

"Well," Brother Jack said, "we've all read the article, Brother, and we're happy to report that we found it harmless enough. True, it would have been better had more wordage been given to other members of the Harlem district. But we found no evidence that you had anything to do with that. Brother Wrestrum was mistaken."

His bland manner and the knowledge that they had wasted time to see the truth released the anger within me.

"I'd say that he was criminally mistaken," I said.

"Not criminal, over-zealous," he said.

"To me it seems both criminal and over-zealous," I said.

"No, Brother, not criminal."

"But he attacked my reputation ..."

Brother Jack smiled. "Only because he was sincere, Brother. He was thinking of the good of the Brotherhood."

"But why slander me? I don't follow you, Brother Jack. I'm no enemy, as he well knows. I'm a brother too," I said, seeing his smile.

"The Brotherhood has many enemies, and we must not be too harsh with brotherly mistakes."

Then I saw the foolish, abashed expression on Wrestrum's face and relaxed.

"Very well, Brother Jack," I said. "I suppose I should be glad you found me innocent --"

"Concerning the magazine article," he said, stabbing the air with his finger.

Something tensed in the back of my head; I got to my feet.

"Concerning the article! You mean to say that you believe that other pipe-dream? Is everyone reading Dick Tracy these days?"

"This is no matter of Dick Tracy," he snapped. "The movement has many enemies."

"So now I have become an enemy," I said. "What's happened to everybody? You act as though none of you has any contact with me at all."

Jack looked at the table. "Are you interested in our decision, Brother?"

"Oh, yes," I said. "Yes, I am. I'm interested in all manner of odd behavior. Who wouldn't be, when one wild man can make a roomful of what I'd come to regard as some of the best minds in the country take him seriously. Certainly, I'm interested. Otherwise I'd act like a sensible man and run out of here!"

There were sounds of protest and Brother Jack, his face red, rapped for order.

"Perhaps I should address a few words to the brother," Brother MacAfee said.

"Go ahead," Brother Jack said thickly.

"Brother, we understand how you feel," Brother MacAfee said, "but you must understand that the movement has many enemies. This is very true, and we are forced to think of the organization at the expense of our personal feelings. The Brotherhood is bigger than all of us. None of us as individuals count when its safety is questioned. And be assured that none of us have anything but goodwill toward you personally. Your work has been splendid. This is simply a matter of the safety of the organization, and it is our responsibility to make a thorough investigation of all such charges."

I felt suddenly empty; there was a logic in what he said which I felt compelled to accept. They were wrong, but they had the obligation to discover their mistake. Let them go ahead, they'd find that none of the charges were true and I'd be vindicated. What was all this obsession with enemies anyway? I looked into their smoke-washed faces; not since the beginning had I faced such serious doubts. Up to now I had felt a wholeness about my work and direction such as I'd never known; not even in my mistaken college days. Brotherhood was something to which men could give themselves completely; that was its strength and my strength, and it was this sense of wholeness that guaranteed that it would change the course of history. This I had believed with all my being, but now, though still inwardly affirming that belief, I felt a blighting hurt which prevented me from trying further to defend myself. I stood there silently, waiting their decision. Someone drummed his fingers against the table top. I heard the dry-leaf rustle of onionskin papers.

"Be assured that you can depend upon the fairness and wisdom of the committee," Brother Tobitt's voice drifted from the end of the table, but there was smoke between us and I could barely see his face.

"The committee has decided," Brother Jack began crisply, "that until all charges have been cleared, you are to have the choice of becoming inactive in Harlem, or accepting an assignment downtown. In the latter case you are to wind up your present assignment immediately."

I felt weak in my legs. "You mean I am to give up my work?"

"Unless you choose to serve the movement elsewhere."

"But can't you see --" I said, looking from face to face and seeing the blank finality in their eyes.

"Your assignment, should you decide to remain active," Brother Jack said, reaching for his gavel, "is to lecture downtown on the Woman Question."

Suddenly I felt as though I had been spun like a top.

"The what!"

"The Woman Question. My pamphlet, 'On the Woman Question in the United States,' will be your guide. And now, Brothers," he said, his eyes sweeping around the table, "the meeting is adjourned."

I stood there, hearing the rapping of his gavel echoing in my ears, thinking the woman question and searching their faces for signs of amusement, listening to their voices as they filed out into the hall for the slightest sound of suppressed laughter, stood there fighting the sense that I had just been made the butt of an outrageous joke and all the more so since their faces revealed no awareness.

My mind fought desperately for acceptance. Nothing would change matters. They would shift me and investigate and I, still believing, still bending to discipline, would have to accept their decision. Now was certainly no time for inactivity; not just when I was beginning to approach some of the aspects of the organization about which I knew nothing (of higher committees and the leaders who never appeared, of the sympathizers and allies in groups that seemed far removed from our concerns), not at a time when all the secrets of power and authority still shrouded from me in mystery appeared on the way toward revelation. No, despite my anger and disgust, my ambitions were too great to surrender so easily. And why should I restrict myself, segregate myself? I was a spokesman -- why shouldn't I speak about women, or any other subject? Nothing lay outside the scheme of our ideology, there was a policy on everything, and my main concern was to work my way ahead in the movement.