Before Obama, Jesse Jackson shaped Black America’s political imagination

I am the product of the American South, who was born in Jacksonville, Florida, in 1961. For many Black young men and women who came of age in the waning years of the South’s slow dismantling of segregation, Jackson was not merely a public figure but a voice that instilled pride.

As a young teenager, I watched from afar as he electrified crowds with rhythmic chants that echoed through churches, community rallies, college campuses and living rooms alike: “I am somebody” and “Up with hope and down with dope.”

These were not empty slogans; they were affirmations for Black young men and women, who were frequently bombarded with negative stereotypes on television and within popular culture. In communities still wrestling with the residue of Jim Crow, Jackson’s cadence offered both spiritual uplift and political urgency. He helped a generation of young Black Americans see themselves not as victims of history but as agents of change within it.

Jackson’s abilities were unmatched by his rivals

Credit: Rebecca Breyer

Credit: Rebecca Breyer

My connection to Jackson, however, was not limited to television screens and newspaper headlines. It became personal during my years at Morehouse College in the 1980s.

Jackson frequently served as a keynote speaker during chapel services, where his presence commanded attention and stirred conviction.

He was also the commencement speaker at my graduation in May 1984, a moment that underscored the deep ties between Jackson and the institution that has produced generations of Black leaders.

In those formative years, he did not merely speak to us; he was like a big brother, who challenged us — to organize, to vote, to build coalitions and to imagine political possibilities beyond the constraints we had inherited.

While he did not secure the Democratic nomination, he fundamentally altered the political calculus within the party. Jackson became a force in the rooms where decisions were made about the Democratic platform, pushing for policies that addressed poverty, voting rights and economic justice. More importantly, he broke down the veil of doubt that had long obscured the possibility of a Black president.

For me, as a Black man, I believe his campaigns helped normalize the idea that the highest office in the land could one day be occupied by someone who looked like me and others of my generation. When Obama ultimately ran and won, he did so on a path Jackson had helped clear.

Jackson was also a successful, unofficial diplomat

Credit: AP

Credit: AP

One area in which Jackson does not receive sufficient credit is his advocacy for making Dr. King’s birthday a national holiday. As a student at Morehouse, I stood among my peers chanting in unison with him: “We want a national holiday.” Those chants were not symbolic gestures; they were part of a sustained national movement that ultimately succeeded. The establishment of the King holiday stands as a testament to Jackson’s ability to merge moral vision with political action.

Years later, I had the opportunity to work directly with Rev. Jackson while serving as chairman of Fulton County. In 2016, we joined forces to host a get-out-the-vote rally at the Darnell Senior Center in Atlanta. Even in his later years, Jackson remained committed to the fundamental work of democracy: mobilizing voters, particularly those whose voices had too often been marginalized. He brought the same energy to that rally that he had brought to marches and campaigns decades earlier.

Jackson’s influence extended beyond domestic politics. Being magnanimous and magnificent as well as daring and dynamic, Rev. Jackson did not fit neatly into the mold of a traditional civil rights leader. His reach was international.

In January 1984, he helped negotiate the release of a captured Black U.S. Naval Pilot, Robert Goodman, who was held in Syria for 30 days after he was shot down over Lebanon. Jackson’s efforts won the accolades of President Ronald Reagan, who, referring to Jackson in a White House Rose Garden ceremony, said “he has earned our gratitude and admiration.”

Later in June 1984, Jackson traveled to Cuba and negotiated the release of 22 American prisoners held by Fidel Castro’s government, demonstrating that moral authority could transcend national borders. He understood coalition-building long before it became fashionable in political discourse. Through Operation PUSH and his proclamation of the Rainbow Coalition, he articulated a vision of solidarity that brought together people across racial, economic and geographic lines.

In the words of Hosea Williams, Jackson was “unbossed and unbought.” His presence — on the pulpit, on the campaign trail and in the corridors of power — reminded us that leadership often requires both conviction and courage.

Rev. Jesse Jackson’s life and legacy are inseparable from the broader story of America’s ongoing struggle toward justice and inclusion. He was a bridge between the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s and the political breakthroughs of the 21st century.

For those of us who witnessed his rise and felt his influence personally, his voice and presence will indeed be sorely missed. Yet the pride he instilled, the barriers he broke and the coalitions he built will continue to shape the nation for generations to come.

John H. Eaves is a former Fulton County Commission chairman and a senior instructor in the Department of Political Science at Spelman College. He is a contributor to the AJC.