'OUTSIDE THE ROPES'
UNM students revisit Muhammad Ali’s legal and societal impact
The ring legend's impact on war, race and religion still resonate 10 years after his death
In the annals of American sport, has there been a more transcendent figure than Muhammad Ali?
Ali, widely considered among the greatest boxers in history, changed attitudes, hearts and minds — provoking love, admiration, anger, scorn and providing decades of entertainment.
During and after his career in the ring, he affected how Americans view race and religion (as an African American who converted to Islam in 1964).
He impacted American culture. He coined phrases we still hear and use today, many people perhaps not realizing they originated with him. Never having run for office, probably never having considered it, he influenced our politics.
And through his 1967 refusal to accept induction into the U.S. military and his ultimately successful fight to validate his standing as a conscientious objector, he made an indelible impact on our legal system.
Ali died in 2016, when Alyson Campbell, Will Martin, Karina Padilla and Violet Webb were in elementary school. He last fought in 1981, long before these four University of New Mexico students were born.
Yet, when UNM professor Lawrence Jones introduced a Muhammad Ali course of study into his constitutional law class, all four students knew who Ali was — even Padilla, a self-acknowledged non-sports fan.
“He’s probably one of three athletes I could name,” Padilla, a junior from Albuquerque majoring in political science and philosophy with a minor in dance, said during a program hosted by the Louisville, Kentucky-based Muhammad Ali Center on March 30.
But, she added, “I was like, what did he do, what did he possibly do (to prompt his inclusion in a university academic curriculum)?”
He’s done a lot, as she discovered.
“Just going through that and learning about it,” Padilla said, “was so amazing.”
The program
The March 30 presentation, a collaboration between the Ali Center and UNM, was titled “Outside the Ropes: What College Students Can Learn From Studying Muhammad Ali.”
The answer: plenty.
Campbell, a junior from Boulder, Colorado, majoring in political science and economics, is a goalkeeper for the UNM soccer team and has two brothers who’ve played college football. Ali was well known in her family and in her social and athletic circles.
Even so, she said, her closer look at his life in Jones’ class was beyond enlightening.
“He was one of the first of his kind,” Campbell said. “… He utilized his platform to challenge injustice, to start national conversation about race, war and civil liberties.
“He shows how sports history can and does continue to connect with constitutional history.”
Webb, from Austin, Texas, is scheduled to graduate this spring with a double major in strategic communication (eyeing a career in investigative journalism) and political science.
She grew up well aware of Ali.
“There were some family friends who were actually third cousins with (Ali), and they shared the surname Clay,” she said. Ali was born Cassius Clay in Louisville in 1942.
“(One friend) had this massive poster of Muhammad Ali (the classic shot of Ali gesturing over a fallen Sonny Liston) in his room.”
Webb, though, was not fully versed in Ali’s out-of-the-ring contributions before taking Jones’ class.
“It’s hard to imagine,” Webb said, “that a sports figure could have so much political influence on so many people.”
Martin, a first-year UNM law student from Albuquerque with a bachelor’s in political science and criminology, grew up a boxing fan and knew Ali well as a fighter.
But, during a Zoom interview with the Journal a week after the Ali Center program, he said he’d been unaware of Ali’s legal history, and its impact, until the first meeting in Jones’ class when “The ϼ States v. (Cassius) Clay” was introduced as a topic. The name Cassius Clay had meant nothing to him.
“I actually was kind of surprised and a little confused,” Martin said.
What he knows now, he said, has dramatically changed his view of the man he’d known as a boxing legend.
Ali’s identity as a boxer, Martin said, had played a significant role in the initial denials of his conscientious-objector status before the Louisville draft board in 1966 and having that denial upheld in lower courts before it finally was reversed in his favor by the ϼ States Supreme Court in 1971.
“He’s a boxer,” Martin said during the Ali Center program, in describing the legal and social inertia Ali faced at the time. “How could he possibly be serious in his objection to the (Vietnam) War?”
While legal determinations ultimately are determined by the law, Campbell said, such determinations are not made in a political or cultural vacuum.
“(Ali’s) legacy,” she said, “just continues to remind students that historical and legal change is often driven by people outside of traditional political offices.”
Ali, Padilla said, was both an actor in and a beneficiary of changing attitudes as the ’60s bled into the ’70s.
“As the public shifted its views from being more supportive of the Vietnam War to more questioning it,” she said, “and questioning the (military) draft as well, I think that views on Ali would also shift.”
Of his legacy, Padilla said, “He put up a fight in the ring and in his life. … There’s just so many layers and so much to take away from his whole story. And I think ultimately, with time, truth is revealed.”
During the program, the four students, whom Jones described as “clearly future leaders,” cited prior legal cases that served as precedents for the Supreme Court’s ultimate finding.
A week later
During the Zoom interview with the Journal on April 6, Webb was asked what she thought she might say to Ali, who died in 2016, if he were alive today.
A difficult question, she said. But she said she might ask him how he would want to be primarily remembered: as a great boxer or as an agent of legal, societal and political change — or, perhaps both.
Most of today’s college students, Webb said, likely know very little about what Ali endured in our legal system more than a half-century ago.
So, (to Ali), “If you had your way, would you want to be seen in that way … (or) as the athlete that you are?”
Martin was asked what surprised him most during Jones’ class. He talked about seeing Ali, during his forced 3 1/2-year hiatus from boxing while dealing with his legal situation, arguing passionately and exchanging on equal terms with college students in speeches he gave at Harvard, Oxford, Iona University in New Rochelle, N.Y., and many other institutions.
Ali also spoke at UNM’s Popejoy Hall on May 26, 1969.
“I think just really … the depth of Ali as a person,” Martin said. “… Looking at how he talked to students, looking at how he conducted himself, just in life and general as well as his legal battles.
“I think he was such a multifaceted person, and that was something that was really surprising to me.”
During the Ali Center program, Campbell and Padilla (who was unavailable for the Zoom interview with the Journal) referenced Colin Kaepernick — the former San Francisco 49ers quarterback and an African American who stirred controversy during the 2016 season by kneeling during the pre-game playing of the national anthem.
Unlike Ali, who resumed his boxing career, Kaepernick never played another down in the NFL after 2016.
“That’s a dinner-table conversation that I’ve had with my family,” said Campbell, who is African American.
Though Kaepernick had quarterbacked the 49ers to the Super Bowl in 2013, he lacked the stature in his sport that Ali had achieved in boxing.
In addition, Campbell said, Kaepernick had to deal with a force unknown to Ali in the 1960s-70s: social media.
Whether the league or NFL teams agreed or disagreed with Kaepernick’s protest, she said, “(They) didn’t feel as if they were willing to take on a burden like that, stepping outside of a box, which no team was brave enough to do. …. They weren’t willing to put themselves up for contestation in the same way (Kaepernick) was able to.”
In other words: Muhammad Ali’s fight is not yet over.