When I learned of Marable’s book my interest was piqued. So I was episodically involved but never a central figure in the operations. There was, of course, the additional factor that in a world of daily communicants who routinely referred to the cardinal’s residence as “One Powerhouse,” I was neither Catholic nor Irish enough.
I attributed this to an unspoken suspicion of my politics, but it was never expressed and never led to my deliberate exclusion. There was another level of operation at BOSSI - undercover infiltrations (American Nazi Party Nation of Islam many other groups) - in which I was only tangentially and periodically involved. I knew Malcolm X through my dealings with him over demonstrations, and I attended many, many street meetings at which he spoke - on Saturday afternoons at 125th Street and 7th Avenue. The book’s turgid, soporific prose proved an unexpected boon to insomniacs. It contained a section on The Nation of Islam (NOI) and Malcolm X. It should never have been published because it wasn’t a book but a dessicated account of the unit’s operations. I rose to sergeant and lieutenant there and wound up writing a master’s thesis that became a book, Police Intelligence (an oxymoron?). I was a detective in BOSSI (Bureau of Special Services and Investigations-NYPD) from July 1957 to December 1965 with one brief interruption in 1958. The Malcolm he depicts is unquestionably, accurately, and thoroughly the Malcolm I knew.īy Tony Bouza / The Rag Blog / July 11, 2011Īny reviewer owes the reader an accounting of possible biases, personal knowledge or connection, or any information helpful in assessing the worth of the analysis.
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