Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s teachings called for unity among marginalized communities and demanded accountability from those who enabled injustice. Yet, as we examine the current sociopolitical landscape, we must ask: How would Dr. King view the state of Black America today? Would he be heartened by the progress made, or would he find himself dismayed by the contradictions, compromises, and even betrayals among those he fought so hard to uplift?
A recent example that underscores these contradictions is the participation of prominent Black entertainers — Snoop Dogg, Rick Ross, and Soulja Boy — in a pro-Donald Trump event known as the “Crypto Ball.” This gathering, hosted by billionaire venture capitalist David Sacks, was a celebration coinciding with Trump’s 2024 inauguration. The event’s irony is impossible to ignore. Snoop Dogg, once one of Trump’s most vocal critics, who even depicted himself shooting a clown-faced version of Trump in a music video, was now on stage entertaining the very forces he previously condemned. Meanwhile, Soulja Boy and Rick Ross joined him in what many saw as a blatant display of opportunism at the expense of the same communities Trump’s policies and rhetoric have harmed.
The situation echoes Dr. King’s warning: “Nothing in all the world is more dangerous than sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity.” We’re forced to examine whether these artists acted out of ignorance — genuinely unaware of the implications of their actions — or out of willful negligence, prioritizing financial gain over the collective struggle.
These artists’ responses to the criticism have varied, but there are definitely common themes. While Soulja Boy plainly claimed money as his motivation (“Obama [and] Kamala ain’t never put no money in my f-cking pockets,” he proclaimed in a response video), rappers who have supported Trump have expressed gratitude for being in proximity with the Oval Office. “The politics, for me, it’s over. He won,” Nelly said, after professing to be “clueless” regarding some elements of politics. “It is an honor for me to perform for the president of the United States, regardless of who is in office. If President Biden would’ve asked me to perform, I would’ve performed. If Vice President Kamala Harris would’ve won and asked me to perform, I would’ve performed.” Soulja Boy reasoned similarly. “Y’all want me to not answer the phone for the f-cking president? This n-gga [is] the president of the motherf-cking United States.” Meanwhile, Snoop Dogg thanked Trump in 2021 for pardoning the prison sentence of Death Row Records co-founder Michael “Harry-O” Harris.
It appears that more than anything, many of these artists just want a seat at the table — regardless of whose table it is. Maybe they think that proximity to power is power itself, and that since Trump and the Republican Party are wielding so much power right now, that they should align themselves with the winners. Maybe they hope that Trump’s veneer of loyalty can be an asset to keep in their back pocket, similar to when Trump pardoned Lil Wayne and Kodak Black when he left office in 2021.
While their motivations may be nebulous, the response to their participation is clear. Even with Trump making headway with Black voters, many of them recognize Trump for his bigotry, and the backlash toward these artists is commensurate with that understanding. Exit polls from the 2024 election revealed a significant Black turnout, signaling a renewed commitment to collective political action.
CNN commentator and former White House aide Keith Boykin framed it eloquently when he ran down the list of transgressions that Trump has had toward Black people, including his admonition of the falsely convicted Central Park Five, refusing to rent apartments to Black tenants in the 1980s, falsely accusing Haitian immigrants of eating cats and dogs, and more. “You dishonor those people when you go and perform for this man,” Boykin said.
Martin Luther King III, one of Dr. King’s sons, recently stated on Meet the Press that his father would be “disappointed but not surprised” by the current state of affairs. He noted that while America has made strides toward racial progress, the rise of overt racism and the regression of voter protections are stark reminders that the work is far from complete.
Yet, amid these challenges, there are glimmers of hope. Exit polls from the 2024 election revealed a significant Black voter turnout, signaling a renewed commitment to collective political action. While the Black community is far from monolithic, this level of engagement suggests that many recognize the high stakes of the current political moment.
Despite these moments of solidarity, Dr. King would likely question whether the current generation has strayed from the moral and strategic unity that powered the civil rights movement. The dissonance between Black men and women, particularly in political and social discourse, is stark. Even President Obama felt compelled to admonish Black men in ways he never did Black women, pointing to what he perceived as an intracultural divide in priorities and responsibilities. This gap remains evident as certain factions of the Black community elevate personal gain over collective progress, engaging in behavior that aligns with systems of oppression rather than resisting them.
Bakari Sellers underscores this ongoing struggle in his book “The Moment,” noting that Black America finds itself at a crossroads between progress and regression. The threats to voting rights, economic stability, and cultural representation demand not only activism but also a renewed sense of accountability among Black leaders and influencers. If the moral arc of the universe is to bend toward justice, as Dr. King envisioned, then the question remains: Are we pulling it forward, or are we allowing distractions and division to keep us stagnant?
Dr. King’s children, particularly Martin Luther King III and Bernice King, and his only grandchild, Yolanda Renee King, continue to carry his legacy forward. They remain outspoken about racial injustice, advocating for policy changes and urging Black Americans to remain vigilant in the fight for equality. Crowds still march against discrimination and inequality, echoing the movements of the past, but the challenges today demand more than just marching. They require strategic action, cultural accountability, and a rejection of the complacency that allows injustice to fester.
Dr. King’s dream was not just about ending segregation — it was about creating a society where Black people were empowered, united, and unwilling to compromise their dignity for short-term gain. As we reflect on the state of our community, we must ask ourselves: Are we living up to that vision? Or are we, in moments of convenience, engaging in what Dr. King condemned as “sincere ignorance and conscientious stupidity”?
The answer to that question will determine whether we continue to move toward justice—or whether we allow history to repeat itself.