Thomas Hauser wrote 'Muhammad Ali: His Life and Times' in 1991 and that work continues to be the definitive research piece, plus oral history, on the life of the greatest athlete of the last one hundred years and almost certainly longer.
Having edited 'GOAT: A Tribute to Muhammad Ali', I'm well aware of how important Hauser's landmark work has been in documenting, for the first time, much of the finer details around Ali's life and achievements, often with the direct evidence of the key figures around Ali over the key periods of his life. I'd urge any Ali, civil rights or black history student to start with that master work if you want to learn more about what made Cassius Clay and then Muhammad Ali, truly into the current day Ali.
During that mid-1990s period Hauser himself became, in the words of Sports Illustrated and Esquire writer, the late Mark Kram, the Boswell figure in the polishing of the Ali mythology, but from what one gathers, Hauser no longer has a direct working relationship with Muhammad Ali nor with those within Ali's immediate business and family circle. This pushes him away from the Ali epicentre, but also gives him the context and the opportunity to take a new, revisionist line on Ali, hence the basic theme of this new book.
Ali emerged at a time of the greatest political foment in modern American history. His outspoken willingness to talk of black pride from the early 1960s, his public conversion to Islam in February 1964 (privately, he converted as far back as 1961) and his unwillingness to step forward and be conscripted into the US Armed Forces in 1967, became the now iconic moments that put him at the very centre of black and left liberal counter-culture in the 1960s.
He won himself the support of leaders as diverse as Martin Luther King, Malcolm X, Eldridge Cleaver and internationally, Kwame Nkrumah and Gamal Abdel Nasser invited him to their countries in 1964; members of the American political and media establishment like Ramsey Clark, William Buckley and James Schlesinger recognised the sincerity of his stance. The entertainment industry lionised him; writers like George Plimpton, Hunter Thompson and Norman Mailer wrote about him; singers like Bob Dylan and later George Benson, sang about him; philosopher Bertrand Russell wrote to him to express his support for Ali's Vietnam stance; perhaps most poignantly of all, ensconced in a tiny cell on Robben Island from 1964 onwards, Nelson Mandela heard of Ali's exploits, quickly saw him as a genuine hero and noted this this was someone to watch and admire.
In short, Ali became the most potent and popular symbol of resistance to the Vietnam War and became the darling not just of the far left, but liberals and black emancipation movements everywhere.
Since then, Ali has (post-Parkinson's especially) become something altogether different: a symbol of peace (UN Messenger of Peace to be yet more specific), pure example of the fragility of the human condition and commercial uber-spokesperson for brands as diverse as Apple, Adidas, IBM, Gillette, Rockport, Wheaties and Coca Cola, much of this being the direct result of his appearance at the 1996 Atlanta Olympics, the start of what can be considered to be the modern rebirth of the Ali mythology.
Fundamentally, Hauser pursues the view that Ali's position as a counter-culture icon has been superceded by his post-1980s role as global icon for peace and commercial spokesperson to anyone willing to write the appropriately-sized cheque (Ali's daily personal appearance fees apparently top $200,000) and overall, a one-size-fits-all symbol of peace, goodness and non-controversy in every regard.
As a result (so goes Hauser's theme), it's of greater import to Ali's circle that his political neutrality and commercial value is maintained because it's that very neutered state that keeps him acceptable to all and keeps the income rolling in.
Whilst some of Hauser's views are rooted in his typically journalistic and meticulously-researched style, the reality is that Ali has undergone the inevitable evolution that age brings to us all. He left the Nation of Islam in 1975 (at the death of Elijah Muhammad), converted formally to the softer Sunni Islam in 1982 and his evolution into political centrism can date from that point onwards. That change coincided with a willingness to lend his name to various humanitarian causes (like Amnesty International, with whom he worked in 1986) and his willingness to directly involve himself in specific political events, like the freeing of fifteen US 'human shield' hostages by Saddam Hussain in 1990.
As Ali has aged, he's recognised the error of some of his more extreme opinions (viz a vis the role of women, black separatism and black/white inter-relationship) and recognised, that peace and love have a far more powerful role to play in building bridges in modern society, than some of the very valid (then) but (now) polarising thinking of the 1960s.
That doesn't make Ali a figure of weaker importance or negate what he stood for. His extraordinary acts of integrity and boldness already stand for posterity. Ali's subsequent life trajectory simply suggest that he grew up and slipped elegantly into middle age, gained wider experiences from leading a spiritual life and recognised that the thinking that led to his actions in the 1960s was spot on for those times, but that as society in the US got more inclusive (albeit pretty slowly), that his opinions needed to shift to reflect that change.
In fact, far more than anyone could have predicted, Ali got bigger after the 1960s and his sporting triumphs of the 1970s and has now truly transcended sporting iconography, something that's unique for modern athletes (only Pele comes close as someone way bigger than the sport from which he emerged).
Whether one accepts it or not, the emergence of politically neutral black celebrities (epitomised by figures like Will Smith, Michael Jordan, Beyonce and Tiger Woods), reflects the opportunity to get to the top (and reap the huge financial rewards from that), through sheer excellence at one's craft alone.
Whether we accept it or not, race has a far smaller role to play in the ascendance of these modern figures since their success has come on their own terms in largely every case. They have no lack of sense of what they are, nor their racial heritage. Ali fought the fight to give modern celebrities and sports stars the opportunity to have a far easier ride and that's something that they all (at least the ones that I've met) truly recognise. That's a step forward and Ali's very human evolution alongside this is one to note positively, rather than to deconstruct.
We all grow up and Ali, more than anyone, has proved that he still has a role to play in society, forty years on from his greatest personal triumphs and now at a time of such conflict between his chosen religion and culture and that of others. That's surely something to celebrate and note as something to for all of us to gain from.