Boxing: The brutality of struggle

What Ali did for boxing is what Tiger Woods is now doing for Golf: He made the sport his own, combining great strength with the grace of a ballerina. Some have controversially argued a unique combination that is essentially Black. The Ali-Woods, comparison however, ends there.

Whereas Tiger's supreme battle is with himself and the demons within, Ali also faced formidable demons both in and outside the ring. In short Ali was part of a gladiatorial contest that literally placed your life on the line.

To add to this already explosive cocktail, for most Black people around the world, boxing has always been more than a sporting contest. It has symbolised the Black struggle to stand tall, and proud within an oppressive white world. Ali's greatest achievement therefore, was not just his brilliance in the ring, but the awareness of his destiny outside it.

When Ali beat the awesome Sonny Liston to became world champion in 1964, at the tender age of twenty two, the good looking smart talking fighter from Louisville, Kentucky literally had the world at his feet. For a magical three years he danced around and beat his opponents at will, often naming the round he'd knock them out.

In 1967 Ali was to face his toughest challenge: the American Government. Having already upset the establishment by joining the outspoken Nation of Islam, and changing his name, the Government were keen to 'pull him down a peg or two' by drafting him to fight in the Vietnam war. Filled with his own Black consciousness, Ali steadfastly refused to be drafted, famously arguing: 'Man, I ain't got no quarrel with the Vietcong, they ain't never called me nigger'.

So at the age of 25, unbeaten and at the pinnacle of his sporting career, Ali was stripped of his world title and his capacity to earn a living. When he returned to the ring some three years later that moment of unequivocal brilliance had gone. True he regained his title in one of boxings most memorable fights - Ali-Foreman, 'Rumble in the Jungle'. Furthermore, he went on to regain the title for a third time after losing the first fight to Joe Frazier, but at a cost of enduring incalculable physical punishment.

Ali was neither the first nor the last to use boxing as a symbol of Black dignity and hope.

In his brilliant book about Black boxing and politics, 'Redemption song', Mike Marquese tells the story of the first Black heavyweight champion of the world, Jack Johnson. Back in 1908 Johnson simultaneously become the first Black heavyweight champion of the world and white America's worst nightmare. Not only did he beat up all the 'great white hopes' and taunt them with his trade mark grin, but he also fraternised with white women at a time when such behaviour could result in lynching.

In 1910 a former white champion Jim Jeffries came out of retirement vowing to 'put the black man back in his place'. America was swept up with fight hysteria. The New York Times reported that 'If the black man wins thousands of his ignorant brothers will misinterpret his victory as justifying claims to much more than physical equality with their white neighbours.'

For fifteen rounds Johnson tormented his white opponent before knocking him clean out. As news of the victory travelled throughout America, Black communities celebrated as never before. Celebrations however, where cut short as white gangs began vicious reprisal race attacks on innocent Black people. After Johnson eventually lost his crown Black fighters were denied world championship fights for the next twenty-two years.

Closer to home our own Prince Nazeem follows an illustrious line of fighters who proudly proclaim their cultural identity. British Muslims and other Muslims throughout the world are filled with immense pride as Nazeem enters the ring to sound of Islamic ritual chant before paying his own personal tribute to his Maker.

In the weeks to come Black and white Britons will watch Michael Mann's movie: 'Ali', but I believe the two communities will experience something quite different. Most white people will see a brilliant boxer who stood up for his rights. But for most Black people, Ali's life, much like the Black struggle, is symbolised by an absolute refusal to be subjugated either by his opponents or by white racism. To us Ali the man has been a powerful beacon of hope.