Freedom Caps and the Pursuit of National Harmony

There is a path to healing deeply rooted in the spirit of the Civil Rights Movement

The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., center, and Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, second from right, march from Selma to Montgomery, Alabama, March 21, 1965. (c) Susannah Hesche

In a time when the discourse in America feels irreparably fractured, it's easy to overlook the lessons from our past that could guide us toward a more unified future. The current climate, where 72% of Republicans and 63% of Democrats view each other as immoral, according to the Pew Research Center, is a troubling indicator of our national divide. Even our beloved athletes, like Caitlin Clark, can ignite partisan ire, and academia warns us that democracy cannot thrive if we deem it immoral to consider opposing perspectives.

This disunity signals a dangerous trajectory for the nation. Yet, we were recently reminded there is a path to healing, deeply rooted in the spirit of the Civil Rights Movement. Our journey, tracing the footsteps of history from Dr. King's birthplace in Atlanta through Montgomery, Selma, and beyond, revealed a time when Americans, despite deep-seated differences, worked together to elevate our society. Civil rights activists, despite their disagreements, shared a fundamental belief in the dignity of every American, even their political adversaries. They offered a powerful example of unity and courage that continues to inspire.

Our journey along US Route 80 from Selma to Montgomery was a poignant reminder of this legacy. Once bustling with the footsteps of hundreds who marched for voting rights in March 1965, it now lies silent, flanked by cotton fields and forests. Yet, the echoes of those who marched arm-in-arm remain, a testament to their pivotal role in securing voting rights for all citizens, a full century after the end of slavery.

The struggle for civil rights was not confined to Alabama; it was a nationwide movement that traversed communities across the country. It involved individuals who faced down unjust literacy tests, black war veterans who returned to a nation for which they’d risked everything still denying them dignity, and countless others who stood up against daily acts of oppression. It is a story of collective courage, reminding us that the rights secured by those marching through Lowndes County in 1965 followed in the footsteps of those who came before them.

President Lyndon B. Johnson encapsulated this ethos of unity in his address in March 1965, identifying the struggle not as a regional or racial issue, but an American one: “There is no Negro problem. There is no Southern problem. There is no Northern problem. There is only an American problem,” Johnson said, echoing the words of Martin Luther King Jr., “Their cause must be our cause too. Because it is not just Negros, but really it is all of us, who must overcome the crippling legacy of bigotry and injustice. And we shall overcome.”

This message of unity—your problems are our problems—is one we must urgently recall today. For problems are never so burdensome as when carried alone or dismissed by your community. As The Economist aptly noted, America's crisis is not in speech, but in listening. The Civil Rights Movement teaches us that recognizing our shared humanity is essential to harnessing the moral strength upon which our nation's greatness depends.

Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel marched alongside John Lewis and Martin Luther King Jr., wearing his yarmulke as a symbol of humility before God. Heschel’s proud and unapologetic participation in the march earned him the sincere appreciation of many of the marchers. Hundreds of black marchers wore yarmulkes as they marched through Lowndes County. They called the head coverings “Freedom Caps.” A reporter noted, “The demand for yarmulkes was so great that an order has been wired for delivery of 1,000 when the marchers arrive in Montgomery later this week.”

In the present day, as two observant Jewish brothers who wear yarmulkes in America, the story reminds us of this spirit of brotherhood and mutual respect. Growing up, we were among the very few to sport skullcaps publicly, often prompting comments from classmates, almost always respectful, along the lines of “I like your little hat.” Even in the wake of Hamas' attack on Israel, we find solidarity and understanding in our communities. For us two observant Jewish brothers we have only reaffirmed our commitment to proudly wear our yarmulkes, and we’ve been greeted almost universally by sympathy and respect. This shared commitment to dignity transcends religion and race, uniting us in a common cause.

On the Edmund Pettus Bridge, where twelve stones stand inscribed with the biblical words, "When your children ask you what is the meaning of these stones, you shall tell them how you came over," we were reminded of the Israelites' unity and the power of collective memory. Just as the twelve tribes of Israel united to cross into the Promised Land, so too the Civil Rights marchers crossed the Alabama River together and made it to the other side.

The Freedom Caps story illustrates our potential to shape one another for the better. The moral leadership of Martin Luther King Jr. and many other black civil rights leaders improved the behavior of all Americans who risked and sometimes lost their lives in the struggle against the injustices of Jim Crow America. So, too, the yarmulke became a unifying symbol for those seeking God's justice.

America's strength lies in our diversity and our shared pursuit of justice and meaning. Together, we can draw from a rich tapestry of faiths and traditions to build a society that honors the dignity of every individual. This spirit of unity and respect is the foundation of our national identity and the key to our future.