


THE MURDER OF FRED
HAMPTON B+
USA (88 mi) 1971 d: Howard Alk
USA (88 mi) 1971 d: Howard Alk
I am…a revolutionary —Fred Hampton,
Chairman of the Black Panther Party in Chicago
Working as one of the original founders of Chicago’s Second
City improvisational comedy troupe, in fact it was Alk leaving which led to his
replacement by the more comically acclaimed Alan Arkin (SCTV Guide: Feature: Days
and Nights at the Second City), and also as one of the cinematographers in
the Dylan film DON’T LOOK BACK (1967), director Howard Alk turns out to be the
one largely responsible for shaping this film. According to remarks
at the film’s screening from the producer Mark Gray, none of the participants
were particularly political minded until one event changed their lives, the
City of Chicago’s police assault on peaceful demonstrators across from the Conrad
Hilton hotel at the 1968 Democratic Convention, footage of which was used in
Alk’s earlier 1969 film AMERICAN REVOLUTION 2. Alk was apparently a
child genius, someone who graduated from the prestigious University of Chicago
at age 16 and became an active Trotskyite, and whose response after viewing the
Democratic Convention footage was supposedly, “Where are the black
people?” This led to his interest in establishing ties with the
newly formed Chicago branch of the Black Panther Party in August of 1968, where
he met Party Chairman Fred Hampton, another young charismatic individual who
displayed an amazing fearlessness and bold presence before an audience,
developing quite a following at the tender age of 20. Along with
Bobby Rush, his Minister of Defense, they were the bulwark of the Chicago
organization. Alk and fellow cameraman Mike Gray followed Hampton
around for 9 months filming his speeches in cramped, dimly lit rooms, where the
raw quality of the footage resembled other 60’s underground films, but in the
process, they gained an unusually intimate portrait of the workings of the
Black Panther Party, a short-lived armed radical organization that was one of
the first organized black groups to stand up to the racism and police brutality
that besieged their neighborhoods. Unfortunately the Panthers paid a
high price, using as an excuse their supposed cache of weapons, making them an
easy target of police raids. They were targeted by J. Edgar Hoover’s
FBI watch list as public enemy number one, calling them "the greatest
threat to the internal security of the country," infiltrated by
informants, oftentimes black police officers, and eventually the entire
organization nationwide was hunted down and targeted for arrest and/or death
“by any means necessary,” to borrow a phrase of the Panthers organization
themselves. Bobby Hutton of the Oakland branch was killed, Eldridge
Cleaver fled the country, Huey P. Newton was arrested for manslaughter, H. Rap
Brown for murder, and one by one the leaders were taken out in a secret FBI spy
operation against American citizens called COINTELPRO that
was only uncovered years later under the Freedom of Information
Act. By 1970, 34 known Panthers were dead as a result of police
raids and shoot-outs, while the rising costs of legal fees eventually ended
their existence.
The film was made during a time of few renowned
documentaries, perhaps WOODSTOCK (1970) was the first seen by the baby boomer
generation, but also Marcel Ophuls recent 1969 film THE SORROW AND THE
PITY. The first half of this film is a profile of Hampton, including
a mock trial where he puts himself in front of a fictitious trial of his peers
for an alleged theft of some 70 Good Humor ice cream cones, a crime for which
he was eventually sentenced to Menard penitentiary in Southern
Illinois. After his release, Hampton is seen making incendiary
remarks about the police, continually using the Panther rhetoric “pigs,”
justifying his use of the term, claiming anyone who could sink as low as cops
who brutalize public citizens and then brazenly lie and cover it up could only
be considered less than human, yet he also established ties to the community by
opening free medical clinics and breakfast programs for neighborhood
kids. In one of the more interesting scenes, Hampton is seen feeling
out a group of Black nationalists, seeing if they have common interests, but
hesitates, as they fail to have mandatory educational programs for their
members. Hampton freely informs them that he finds common ground
with many whites or Latinos, claiming blacks are held back by the repressive
nature of their own people as well, and refuses to exclusively use race as a
basis for unification, instead advocating socialism over
nationalism. But Hampton’s speeches are legendary, as his fury is
infectious and he knew how to arouse an audience. Despite the raw,
dark and dingy quality of the footage, these are rare moments of history.
On December 4, 1969, under the authorization of State’s
Attorney Ed Hanrahan, supposedly to serve a warrant for a weapons violation, a
Chicago police raid at 4:30 am of 14 officers, 5 of whom were black, stormed
Hampton’s private residence with guns blazing, killing both Hampton and another
Panther member Mark Clark. What followed afterwards was a front page
exclusive by the Chicago Tribune newspaper which printed
verbatim the State’s Attorney’s version of events, which was exposed later as a
carefully staged public relations fantasy of the actual events, claiming
officers announced their presence and were met by an onslaught of bullets, and
“by the grace of God” it was a miracle that no officers were
killed. The television news broadcasts offered similar
testimony. The filmmakers were at the crime scene the next day,
which was never ever declared a crime scene by the police. They did
what they did and left, never returning to gather evidence from the scene of
the crime, so the filmmakers shot footage of the ransacked apartment which contradicted
the police version of events and opened it up to the public to make their own
conclusions. According to a forensics report, 99 bullets were found
entering the apartment from the outside, while only 1 bullet was ever fired
from inside — which was itself an accident, as the Panther guarding the door,
Mark Clark, dropped his gun during the initial pre-dawn police assault where he
was killed instantly, his gun firing when landing on the floor — hardly the barrage
reported by the police to justify their actions. Based on
contradictory allegations, this part of the film is never definitive and
remains hard to understand due to the fact it took over a decade to uncover the
truth of the events, long after the release of the film, as the police stuck to
their version of events, sometimes word for word, and were not available for
follow up interviews, while the Panther attorneys methodically went through the
crime scene to counter law enforcement’s claims. The word murder in
the title is not an exaggeration, and it remains one of the legendary police
cover ups in Chicago history.
In the question and answer discussion afterwards, one of the
Panther attorneys was present, who indicated initially all the officers were
vindicated, but only after a period of ten years were they finally held
responsible for violating Hampton’s civil rights. Over the course of
time, this also led to the FBI revelations that they actually directed the
State’s Attorney’s raid, based on diagrams provided by FBI informant William
O’Neal, who was Hampton’s bodyguard, the man who actually provided the exact
location of Fred Hampton’s bed, which was the target of the majority of the
police bullets. An autopsy also revealed that there were barbiturates
found in Hampton’s stomach, who was known to be ardently drug and alcohol free,
suggesting he was drugged the night before by O’Neal, who served him kool-aid
and hot dogs the night before, corroborating the testimony of Hampton’s girl
friend in the apartment who claimed he did not respond and remained groggy
throughout the raid, only lifting his head an inch or so off the bed before he
was shot and killed. The title of the film was penned by Albert
Grossman, an early agent to folk stars like Bob Dylan and Peter, Paul, and
Mary, and an early contributor to the making of this film, who after seeing the
advance version proclaimed this film to be about THE MURDER OF FRED HAMPTON,
picking up on a verbal theme that is repeated several times by others in the
film. The film is a time capsule for an era that exists no more, as
the Black Panthers were eliminated, all killed or jailed or run underground in
one of the more inflammatory and least documented periods of American
history.
Of local Chicago interest, one of the first white officers
through the door, perhaps the first to actually visually target Hampton, was
later also one of the partners of Chicago Police Commander Jon Burge, who along
with officers under him ran a torture unit out of the Area 2 police station,
using a variety of torture techniques - - Russian roulette, electroshock,
suffocation and beatings - - to extract “confessions” during the interrogations
of 200 black men from the late 60’s through the 90’s, allegedly using
intimidating remarks like, “We killed Fred Hampton. You’re
next.” Burge most likely learned about electroshock while torturing
Vietnamese prisoners before he was honorably discharged from the military in
1969, bringing this same method back to Chicago’s South Side. The
Commander that replaced Burge at Area 2 headquarters was current Police Chief
Phil Cline, who recently submitted his resignation after videotapes exposed
Chicago police officers engaged in bar brawls that they themselves initiated
and then sent the arriving police squads away in order to cover up their
actions. So the line of Chicago police brutality from the days of
Fred Hampton to the present is an uninterrupted straight line.
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