New Afrikan Black Panther Party DMI

The Politics and Art of a New Afrikan Black Panther: Kevin "Rashid" Johnson Tom Big Warrior Watts, activist and editor of Rising Sun Press, discusses the new book Panther Vision from political prisoner Kevin "Rashid" Johnson

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1969 SPECIAL REPORT: "Former BLACK PANTHERS Testify Against the Party" Filmed on June 18, 1969, in Washington D.C., this archival footage captures the Senate Permanent Subcommittee on Investigations' hearings on "Student Disorde...

George Jackson was killed before his ideas could be imprisoned.

August 21, 1971.
San Quentin State Prison.
California.

George Lester Jackson was 29 years old when the state said he tried to escape. By then, he had already become one of the most feared and misunderstood Black thinkers in America feared not because of what he did with his hands, but because of what he did with his mind.

He had entered prison as a teenager.

In 1960, George Jackson was sentenced to one year to life for allegedly stealing $70 from a gas station. One year became eleven. The crime was small. The punishment was not. Prison did not rehabilitate him. It radicalized him.

Inside a cell, George Jackson educated himself.

He read Marx. Lenin. Mao. Fanon. He studied history, capitalism, colonialism, race, and power. He wrote constantly letters, essays, reflections turning isolation into discipline. What the prison system intended as containment became his classroom.

George Jackson began to see prison not as punishment for crime, but as an extension of racial control.

He organized.
He taught other prisoners.
He helped form the Black Guerrilla Family, a political study group rooted in revolutionary Black consciousness.

Outside prison walls, his words were spreading.

In 1970, his letters were published as Soledad Brother. The book shocked America. Here was a man the state called dangerous, writing with clarity, intelligence, and moral force. College students read him. Activists quoted him. Law enforcement watched him closely.

George Jackson was no longer just a prisoner.
He was a symbol.

That made him a problem.

On August 21, 1971, guards said Jackson attempted an escape using a smuggled gun. What followed was chaos. Shots were fired. Hostages were taken. When it ended, George Jackson was dead, shot by guards in the prison yard.

The state called it justified.

Many did not believe it.

To his supporters, George Jackson was executed not for escaping, but for thinking too freely behind bars. Investigations followed. Questions lingered. But no one was held accountable.

His death sparked protests across the country. Inside prisons, tensions exploded. Outside, his name joined a growing list of Black men whose lives ended under state authority.

George Jackson did not live long enough to see the world wrestle fully with mass incarceration.

But he saw it coming.

He warned that prisons were becoming warehouses for the unwanted. That poverty and race were being criminalized. That punishment was replacing justice.

Those warnings still echo.

George Jackson was silenced at 29.
But his ideas outlived the walls meant to contain them.

History often remembers those who break chains.

Sometimes, it forgets those who explain why the chains exist.

Remember his name.
George Jackson.

I encourage all African (Black) Revolutionary Organizations and Black Revolutionaries to read the book entitled, “The Making of Black Revolutionaries” by James Foreman. It is an engaging and enlightening read written by one of the greatest Revolutionaries produced on this continent.

Arinze Ture