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From 1962-1968, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was the target of an FBI surveillance campaign, led by then-director, J. Edgar Hoover. The FBI claimed that this campaign was necessary, to expose the communist influence within the civil rights movement, but this was a lie. I argue that, instead, the purpose

From 1962-1968, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. was the target of an FBI surveillance campaign, led by then-director, J. Edgar Hoover. The FBI claimed that this campaign was necessary, to expose the communist influence within the civil rights movement, but this was a lie. I argue that, instead, the purpose of the surveillance was so that the Bureau could attempt to ruin Dr. King's reputation by collecting incriminating evidence about his personal life. I believe that the Bureau embarked on this campaign against Dr. King in order to maintain the United States' white supremacist racial hierarchy by neutralizing a prominent black activist. Further, I believe that today, there is the potential for the FBI to take. In order to argue this, I analyze different aspects of the Bureau's campaign against Dr. King. First, I discuss Hoover's fascination with and hatred of Dr. King. Throughout the six years this thesis focuses on, Hoover repeatedly took actions against King that went far beyond what was necessary or appropriate for an anti-Communism campaign. I argue that this is because Hoover's true goal was to damage King's reputation as much as possible, not discover if he was a communist. Second, I examine the Bureau's surveillance of Stanley Levison, one of King's closest aides. Levison was, for a time, a suspected communist. This gave the Bureau's campaign some initial legitimacy, and eventually led to the Bureau's official spy campaign against Dr. King. Next, I analyze the FBI's use of technological surveillance methods against King. The Bureau's patterns of microphone and wiretap use in their campaign against King further suggest that the intent of such actions was merely to gather information to injure King's reputation with the public. Fourth, I discuss the Bureau's use of informants to keep tabs on King's actions and plan. More specifically, I discuss Ernest Columbus Withers, a black photographer who served as an FBI informant. Finally, I argue that there is potential for the FBI to take similar actions against today's black activists. To make this point, I analyze the wording of an FBI memo made public last year. In this memo, the FBI warns of a domestic terror threat known as "Black Identity Extremists." I argue that the FBI's definition of these extremists is purposely vague, and could feasibly be applied to any black activist. Because of this, I believe there is potential for modern activists to be subjected to the same kind of harassment Dr. King endured in the 1960's. Those who cannot remember the past are doomed to repeat it, and this thesis serves as a reminder that there are forces who would stifle the First Amendment to maintain the status quo.
ContributorsWilson, Bryan (Author) / Davis, T. J. (Thesis director) / Miller, Keith (Committee member) / Lauderdale, Pat (Committee member) / Department of Psychology (Contributor) / Barrett, The Honors College (Contributor)
Created2018-12
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The Nash, a jazz venue in Phoenix, Arizona, is an example of a decades-long process of the formalization of jazz—being codified as an art music relying on academic and philanthropic support. Formalization developed as jazz began to be taken seriously as art music worth of critical evaluation from critics, academics,

The Nash, a jazz venue in Phoenix, Arizona, is an example of a decades-long process of the formalization of jazz—being codified as an art music relying on academic and philanthropic support. Formalization developed as jazz began to be taken seriously as art music worth of critical evaluation from critics, academics, and the hallowed establishments of American high art. Jazz became increasingly dependent on an infrastructure of institutional support, and a neoclassical ideology sought to define what styles of jazz were ‘real’ and worthy of preservation. In Phoenix, the origins of The Nash were laid in 1977 when Jazz in Arizona was formed, a non-profit organization that aimed to support jazz through information dissemination, music scholarships, festival organizing, and attending jazz events throughout Arizona. The Nash was conceived as a way to more fully engage young people in the community. Herb Ely, a prominent Phoenix attorney and philanthropist, pitched the idea to Joel Goldenthal, then Executive Director of Jazz in Arizona. The venue was built under the auspices of Jazz in Arizona, and operates as the organization’s headquarters. In keeping with the broader trend of formalization, The Nash presents jazz as a performance of artistic expression. Continued philanthropic support allows The Nash a degree of independence from economic concerns. The Nash is also committed to providing support for jazz education, by partnering with local educational institutions and presenting educational programming. The focus on providing opportunities for young musicians, as well as its location in the hip neighborhood of Roosevelt Row have contributed to The Nash becoming relatively popular among young people. However, the formalized approach to jazz espoused by The Nash has created some conflicts within the Phoenix jazz community, as some professional musicians feel that The Nash is underpaying musicians for their labor. The American Federation of Musicians Local 586 argues that musicians are workers, and The Nash ought to be paying union scale.
Created2016-12