Boxing, Wrestling, and the American Dream

“George Bush is the president of the United States of America. He is not,

however, America.” This is something I found myself telling nearly everyone I met for

the first time when I lived in Spain between 2002 and 2003. Having to refute the

unmerited judgments people would cast at me was not nearly as strange or difficult to

deal with as was the pressure to find just the right collection and order of words that

would allow me to redeem my right to a fair and honest first impression. Few of them

needed to hear my accent to know that I was American. Even on an island in which one-

third of the real-estate was owned by Germans, there was something about this blonde-

haired-blue-eyed boy that screamed American. It was the first time in my life that I had

ever had reservations about being American.

A few years later I found myself in an American bar telling a story about my time

Spain. That cluster of words, which seemed to so magically preserve my humanity in

Europe had the opposite effect that particular evening. Almost immediately I was exiled

from conversation. The irony, for me, was that the reason I had been ostracized was the

same reason I was telling the story to begin with. It did not matter; no one needed or

wanted to hear about anything that revolved around politics. I went home that night

wondering what my so-called freedom of expression was worth.

Even as I write this, I am aware of the gut reaction political stories and anecdotes

trigger for us all in the year 2006. I am also aware that most of us who just five years ago

considered themselves somewhere between Red and Blue have found themselves more or

less compelled to choose one or the other (or accept the notion that they are utterly

voiceless). I understand the mixed and overwhelming sentiments that dominate American
mindset and the desire to make it all go away by ignoring it. We have been so bombarded

by the negative side of politics during the last five years that we have given up the idea

that we have any control over it. In fact, the only thing most of us do feel we have any

sort of control over is to abstain from getting involved. The general consensus is that it is

not worth upsetting friends and loved ones; I agree. It is not. Yet, by not getting involved,

we truly relinquish control. Consequently, I am writing this essay in order not to talk

about Bush, but to talk about us.

This essay, therefore, is not about oil, it is not about terrorism. It is about the

general boundaries that govern human nature, and the political and social changes that

affect these boundaries. It is about the United States Constitution and the American

Dream. In effect, if I bring up the President, it is not to talk about him, but to talk about

us. He is our representative. We made him champion. We are the judges of – not one, but

– two split decision verdicts that have ultimately given him authoritative control over the

“ring” we live in. We need to understand what that means, especially when the

dimensions of that ring get changed without our consent. A little lesson on boxing should

help us reach some sort of understanding.

A Little History

In the 19th century, boxing was called “the gentleman’s sport,” “the manly art of

self defense.” Such words summon images of wealthy, Victorian-era white men with

rolled up sleeves exchanging bare-knuckles in a field or town square, while a ring of

likewise white-male spectators surrounding them bark approval at the sight of strategic

blows. At stake was male pride and maybe a few teeth or a blackened eye. Generally, the

point of the fight was twofold: for the two men fighting, it was to settle differences and
prove a certain superiority over the other in a fair and open contest (perhaps to make a

few bucks at the same time); secondly, for the spectators, it was live entertainment and a

chance to likewise make a bit of money.

Of course, the history of boxing began the very first time two individuals put up

their fists to one another in play—that is, without the intention of killing each other. Over

time, rules governing the fairness of such play called for the “ring” (of spectators) to

become a perfect square, ensuring not only fair and equal surface area, but that each

competitor would have a side or corner designated for him before and after the fight.

Eventually rounds of three minute intervals with one minute periods of rest between them

would be incorporated into the structure of a fight—both to organize its progress but also

to provide a temporary underdog a chance to collect himself so that the outcome reflected

not a fleeting moment but an overall authority in the ring. Further regulations would be

implemented, but these are the most significant constitutions that govern the legacy of

boxing as we know the sport today. These essential rules and regulations, meant to ensure

equality of opportunity for the two fighters during a fight, have at their core the same

tenants that make the Constitution of the United States of America the bedrock of the

American Dream. Ultimately, they make overt and clear that America’s official

boundaries (its ring) will ensure fair and free treatment to all who reside within.

It is for this reason that we Pledge Allegiance to the Flag, a symbol of the

Constitution in action: “…with liberty and justice for all.” We are pledging allegiance to

the promise of fairness and equality for all. This is precisely why so many Europeans and

later South Americans and Asians immigrated to the United States during its early

formation as well as during and after World War II. Even today, even when it is clear to
the world that we have yet to fully come to terms with the proper definition for all, the

promise that we someday will has remained the platform of American pride, and why—

up until recently—the America was so respected Internationally. The boxing ring—not

boxing as a sport1—is a physical manifestation of this hope and pride. A platform for

Justice, it promises that no matter what goes on outside of the ring, no matter what

happens before or after the fight starts, for the duration of the fight, Justice reigns

supreme. Even though over time it has undergone a series of rules and regulation

changes, visibility on the part of the spectator continues to ensure—just as it did outside

the saloon during the Victorian era—the legitimacy of the fight. Even in the event of a

split decision in which both fighters are still standing and the “winner” becomes a matter

of judgment, anything far from the truth will be remembered and reported in infamy, in

which case the outcome, if not changed, becomes nothing but an empty statistic

shadowed by an asterisk.

Similarly, every time the United States Constitution and its Bill of Rights is not

upheld, a foreboding asterisk hovers in the air haunting the very fallacy that gave it roots

until Justice intervenes. It is not difficult then, to view the United States Supreme Court

as the ultimate boxing ring. Following this analogy comprehensively, we see the United

States Constitution as a parallel to the coveted Heavyweight Championship Title in

Boxing. Although both refer to actual material items, it is really what these items signify

that matter. Of course, the boxing title, represented by a singular belt signifies that the

person in possession of it is the only person authorized to call themselves “champion” of

1
An important differentiation between the boxing ring and boxing as a sport must be made here. The
evolution of the sport of boxing would be analogous to the evolution of a nation. A ring, along with the
rules and regulations that govern that ring are like the constitutions that govern a nation. In that, the
analogy follows: it is possible for a nation’s image to change even if the tenants and principles upon which
that nation was founded do not; it simply means they are being ignored.
the contest it stands for. However, it also implies that this claim to personal physical

supremacy can and must be challenged by worthy opponents in order for its significance

to be upheld. In this way, as the champion defends his title, he actually becomes a servant

to the belt’s signification. Once it is proven that he is no longer worthy to represent the

belt it will be passed along to whomever is. Similarly, The United States Constitution and

all of its amendments require a political authority to represent it. The “champion,”

however, has a different title: “President.” Since his title represents an ideological

supremacy (namely liberty and justice for all) as opposed to a personal physical

supremacy, the Constitution is its own defender/challenger—itself being a manifestation

of the People.2 As the President, he has the right to govern and control the people, but a

worthy challenge to the way he executes such power must, according to the principles

that give the Constitution its significance (and he, his power), always be accepted. To this

extent, he too is a servant, a servant to the public.

The connection between the boxing ring and the Supreme Court, between the

“Boxing Heavyweight Title of the World” and the “Presidency of the United States of

America,” is Justice. The obviousness of this connection may not be fully clear, even for

those who read through the above analogy without dispute. And considering both the

depths of emotion that connect all Americans to the US Constitution and the

overwhelming relationship boxing has with masculine dominance, certain individuals and

groups might immediately be hesitant to make the comparison. This is precisely why I

want to be clear what is being compared – otherwise instead of helping to clear the

2
One might desire to liken the presidential elections as being the platform (boxing ring) and the
presidential candidates as being the challenger, but it is the Constitution which mandates that these
elections take place and any presidential candidate is always really just a representative of the people. In
fact, this is true of the acting President as well; he, however, can never escape the fact that he is also a man
with a personal agenda. It is for this reason that the Constitution exists.
current political fog, it will only add to it. The fact that we do not have the same emotions

towards the boxing-ring as we do towards the Constitution is precisely what makes it a

valuable comparison.

“George Bush is not America,” and the Heavyweight Champion of the World is

not Boxing. George Bush acts in the name of the United States Constitution just as the

Heavyweight Champion of the World serves the title.

At the heart of the rules that govern the sport of Boxing, and the heart of the

United States Constitution you will find the very same Justice. It is why, according to

Kevin Mitchell,3 of the “more than 500 movies [that] have been made about sport, by far

the most popular and successful genre is boxing, about which there have been at least 150

films. Sylvester Stalone’s classic American anthology Rocky is a case in point. Perhaps,

however, the more recent proliferation of films of this genre conveys more aptly

America’s continued relationship with the sport of boxing. The past four years alone have

given birth to five major motion pictures and two critically acclaimed documentaries

about boxing and its champions (Ali, Million Dollar Baby, Cinderella Man, More than

Famous, Hardest Fight, Ali: the Whole Story, Unforgivable Blackness: the Rise and Fall

of Jack Johnson). This synergy between the screen and the ring, during a time when the

boxing industry is going through its leanest period in decades, is evidence that the

American Dream is still present in the heart and soul of the People.

Perhaps the issue then is not to question if there is a relationship, but what the

pattern created by its incessant resurgence means. Furthermore, if boxing creates such a

great parallel for understanding how this country works, then perhaps it is time we use it

3
Kevin Mitchell is chief sportswriter of the Observer and author of the book WarBaby: the Glamour of
Violence
to consider why there has been such an overwhelming feeling of injustice in this country

ever since George Bush became President in 2000. It is my hope, that with the help of

semiotics and a close reading of an essay by Roland Barthes, that I might be able to call

upon boxing to do just that.

In Need of Special Glasses

The preface to Roland Barthes’ Mythologies, a compilation of essays focused on

deconstructing the myths embedded in current cultural events, explains that the impetus

for the anthology was, for Barthes,

a feeling of impatience at the sight of the ‘naturalness’ with which

newspapers, art and common sense constantly dress up a reality
which, even though it is the one we live in, is undoubtedly
determined by history. In short, in the account given of our
contemporary circumstances, I resented seeing Nature and History
confused at every turn, and I wanted to track down, in the
decorative display of what-goes-without-saying, [his emphasis] the
ideological abuse which, in my view, is hidden there. (11)

Given the current political climate, not only in America, but throughout the world, it may

pay to consider the “naturalness” with which our own newspapers, art, and—above all—

common sense employ to “constantly dress up” the reality we live in. In light of such

consideration, I find it more than mere coincidence that the very first essay in

Mythologies focuses on a “sport” that is heir to, none other than, boxing: The World of

Wrestling. “Sport,” here, must be confined to the boundaries of quotation marks because

as Barthes explains: “Wrestling is not a sport, it is a spectacle, and it is no more ignoble

to attend a wrestled performance of Suffering than a performance of the sorrows of

Arnolphe or Andromaque. (15)

 He carries out Wrestling’s relationship to theatre throughout the entire essay. He

does this, however, not without suggesting how indebted Wrestling is to the sport of

Boxing. For, in contrast to Boxing, “the [wrestling] public is completely uninterested in

knowing whether the contest is rigged or not, and rightly so; it abandons itself to the

primary [emphasis mine] virtues of the spectacle.” The comparison/contrast continues:

This public knows very well the distinction between wrestling and
boxing; it knows that boxing is a Jansenist sport, based on a
demonstration of excellence. One can bet on the outcome of a
boxing-match: with wrestling, it would make no sense. A boxing-
match is a story which is constructed before the eyes of the
spectator; in wrestling, on the contrary, it is each moment which is
intelligible, not the passage of time. The spectator is not interested
in the rise and fall of fortunes; he expects the transient image of
certain passions. Wrestling therefore demands an immediate
reading of the juxtaposed meanings, so that there is no need to
connect them. The logical conclusion of the contest does not
interest the wrestling-fan, while on the contrary, a boxing-match
always implies a science of the future. (16)

It is important here to acknowledge that he is not making a value judgment about either

boxing or wrestling. He is simply broadcasting the fact that a wrestling-match is about

smoke and mirrors whereas a boxing-match is not. A wrestling fan goes to a wrestling-

match for the same reason he might go to a theatre performance on Broadway, to be

taken away by the magic of the performance. The difference, of course, between

Broadway and the WWE (formerly the WWF) is that wrestling presumes a basic

understanding of the rules of boxing: “Each sign in wrestling is therefore endowed with

an absolute clarity, since one must always understand everything on the spot. As soon as

the adversaries are in the ring, the public is overwhelmed with the obviousness of the

roles.” In opposition to the precision and realism of boxing, wrestling is about image and

projection. Nonetheless, whether it is projection or reality, they both profess to be about

the same thing: “…what wrestling is above all meant to portray is a purely moral

concept: that of justice. The idea of ‘paying’ is essential to wrestling….”

Wrestlers know very well how to play up to the capacity for indignation of
the public by presenting the very limit of the concept of Justice, this
outermost zone of confrontation where it is enough to infringe the rules a
little more to open the gates of a world without restraints.

Put a wrestling-match, with all of its fanfare, up against a boxing-match and all if its

fanfare and one will see, at first glance, a similar sight. Even the tone and content of

spectators’ excitement will be similar: “get ‘em!” “hit ‘em hard!” It is the cause of this

pattern of chants that differs from one spectacle to the other.

For a wrestling-fan, nothing is finer than the revengeful fury of a betrayed fighter
who throws himself vehemently not on a successful opponent but on the smarting
image of foul play. Naturally, it is the pattern of Justice which matters here, much
more than its content. (23)

In boxing it is not the pattern of Justice that matters, it is the content of that Justice. This

fact alone is why boxing can serve as a proper analogy to the Constitution whereas

wrestling never could. “Extrapolated,” Barthes writes, “fair wrestling could lead only to

boxing or judo, whereas true wrestling derives its originality from all the excesses which

make it a spectacle and not a sport” (23).

To bring all of this back to the current state of affairs in America and the rest of

the world, I will say plainly that the war in Iraq is a wrestling-match, George Bush is a

wrestler who knows, perhaps better than any President in history, “how to play up to the

capacity for indignation of the public by presenting the very limit of the concept of

Justice,” as if it were Justice proper.

When I read Mythologies for the first time, I found myself so overwhelmed by

one of the paragraphs in his essay on The World of Wrestling, that I had to put the book
down for a moment. I eventually read it and re-read it four or five times, flabbergasted

not because it was difficult to read, but because one could completely replace the word

“wrestling” with “the Iraq War” and have it make perfect sense with what is going on

today. The essay was originally written in 1952. The paragraph reads:

The rhythm of [the Iraq War] is quite different, for its natural meaning is
that of rhetorical amplification: the emotional magniloquence, the repeated
paroxysms, the exasperation of the retorts can only find their natural
outcome in the most baroque confusion. Some fights, among the most
successful kind, are crowned by a final charivari, a sort of unrestrained
fantasia where the rules, the laws of the genre, the referee’s censuring and
the limits of the ring are abolished, swept away by a triumphant disorder
which overflows into the hall and carries off pell-mell [soldiers], seconds,
referee, and spectators.

We, the American People, have been swept away by a triumphant disorder, and

we need to bring an end to it by reinstating the rules and regulations of the ring. It is not

the first time we have been called upon to do this, and it will not be the last.

Jack Johnson

Perhaps Jack Johnson said it best when, after being exiled for several years, he

made a conscious decision to cross back over United States territory knowing full well

that when he did so he would have to serve the very prison sentence for which he

originally escaped the country: “America,” he said, “for whatever of its problems, still

has a certain kind of elasticity, a certain latitude, that allows the person to dream a big

enough dream, [achievable] if the person is as big as the dream” (Burns). Jack Johnson

embodied the American idea that you can go anywhere your ability allows. Of course, his

ability, as a boxer and as a man had nothing to do with him being black. This would be

proved incontestably later in his life. Yet, both as a man and as a boxer he would be
punished on multiple occasions for being black. For years the white boxers who held the

championship title refused to fight any black boxer, claiming that blacks were physically

inferior and therefore not even worthy of the opportunity. “The color line,” reported the

New York Morning Telegraph in 1908,

[was] used in the most select pugilistic [boxing] circles as a

subterfuge behind which a white man could hide to keep
some husky colored gentleman from knocking his block off.
It is a handy little invention which costs nothing and
probably has saved many a white man’s life. Many men who
are well known in public life today owe their well-preserved
appearance and success to this lifesaving compound.

Jack Johnson’s response to this at first was to do nothing since black fighters could still

make decent money fighting non-champion whites, though they made far less than whites

themselves. After several years, however, he had made more money than one could care

for at the time (even for a white man) and became far more interested in the ostensible

truth that no one could touch him in the ring. He was far better than all four of the white

fighters that held the title during this time period and not one of them would even give

him an opportunity to prove it. During the time that undefeated title holder Jim Jeffries

was champion, Johnson chased him across much of the US, Canada, and Europe, fighting

and beating each of the white competitors that Jeffries conquered, mainly to prove that he

was the most worthy contender (Burns).

Jeffries retired undefeated, never giving Johnson a chance. The new title would go

to two more whites before Johnson would finally receive a shot at the title. King Edward

VII, well known to be a boxing aficionado, made a public statement supporting a match

between Jack Johnson and Canadian fighter Tommy Burns who held the title at the time.

With support for a match up coming all the way down from the King of England himself,
it was difficult to say no. So Burns slyly countered his predicament by putting an

exorbitant price on the fight, announcing he would not even think about it for less than

thirty-five thousand dollars. Apparently Johnson was not the only one waiting for

Johnson to get a shot at the title. Less than a month went by before a fight was scheduled

to be held in Rush Cutters Bay, Australia. Hugh “Huge Deal” Macintosh, the promoter

for the fight set it for December 26th 1908. Regardless of the outcome, Burns would

receive $35,000, while Johnson would receive only $5,000. Johnson did not care, he was

happy to get a shot at the title (Ibid).

Revealing the impending fear of a colored man authoritatively assuming

dominance over a white man in any segment of human existence became palpable in the

press immediately after the fight was announced. The Australian Star reported: “This

battle may, in the future, be looked upon as the first great battle of an inevitable race war.

There is more in this fight to be considered than the pugilistic title of Champion of the

World” (Ibid). These fears quickly turned into slurs: one Australian sports writer declared

that the fight “would pick white beauty over black ugliness” (Ibid). Even the novelist,

Jack London, who was celebrated for his solidarity with the working class man, found

himself compelled to announce his allegiance to the white race. One of the newspaper

men chosen to cover the story, in part because he was known to be a committed socialist,

London wrote: “Personally, I am with Burns all the way. He is a white man and so am I.

Naturally I want to see the white man win. Put the case to Johnson and ask him if he were

the spectator at a fight between a white man and a black man, which he would like to see

win…” (Ibid). Of course, there is no record of anyone actually asking Johnson the

question.
 In fourteen rounds, Johnson pummeled the champion. The racial slurs and name

calling from both Burns and his corner never got to Johnson. He simply smiled and

methodically beat all the fallacious notions of white supremacy out of Burns and out of

the all-white crowd one round at a time. In fact, it was so imperative that Johnson not

knock Burns out, for what it might signify that the police stopped the fight and ordered

the camera men to stop taking footage. The world would be denied access to this

historical moment because the master narrative we call history could not—at least in

1908—handle it if a black man not only acquired the Boxing Heavyweight Title of the

World, but did so by way of knockout. The closest thing we have to the truth is a report

by a white newspaperman who sat ringside. On returning to the United States, Jack

London writes:

‘Stop the fight?’ The word is a misnomer. There was no fight. The ‘fight’
if it could be called ‘fight’ was like that between a colossus and a toy
automaton, of a grown man cuffing a naughty child. So far as damage was
concerned, Burns never landed a blow. A dew drop had more chance in
hell than he with the giant Ethiopian. It was not a case of too much
Johnson, but all Johnson. (Ibid)

It became so obvious to the world that had Johnson had the chance several years earlier,

he more than likely would have been the champ then. To combat this awareness, people

began to play down Tommy Burns saying that Jim Jeffries who had retired four years

prior was the rightful owner of the title since he had retired undefeated. Well, Jack

Johnson had been around then, and had challenged the champ numerous occasions, if he

wanted to prove that he was truly the champ, he should have defended the title.

Eventually promoters bought into this theory brought Jim Jeffries out of retirement in 1910,
paying him a whopping $101,000 in the expectation that he would whip Johnson. (Ibid)
 Johnson beat the challenger to a pulp over 15 rounds - and this time - in front of the

cameras. The film-makers had come to Reno, Nevada, to record what they had thought would be

a triumph for the Great White Hope. Then, as riots and lynchings erupted across the United

States (on both sides of the color line) as news of Johnson's win spread, Congress passed an act

banning the interstate transportation of fight films. It would last as long as was convenient—until

Jack moved on, in fact. Two years later, he had to leave the country after becoming the first

person to be convicted under the Mann Act of 1910, a measure designed to combat prostitution

by forbidding the transportation between states of women for immoral purposes—Johnson had

sent his girlfriend a train ticket. The prosecution’s closing argument to an all white male juror was

clear and simple: “If you should find the defendant not guilty I don’t know how you could ever

squarely look the faces of your mothers, wives, and daughters.” Less than two hours later,

Johnson was guilty as charged for miscegenation. A white male America could not handle a black

man marrying a white woman; Johnson had been married and divorced four times to white

women by the time he died at the age of 68. (Ibid)

With Republican senator John McCain and the Reverend Jesse Jackson currently

leading a campaign to pardon Johnson posthumously, the recent release of a documentary,

Unforgivable Blackness: The Rise and Fall of Jack Johnson, by film-maker Ken Burns, could not

be more timely, not only for the legacy of Jack Johnson, but for the legacy of this country as well

(Mitchell). With the death toll of both American soldiers and Iraqi civilians escalating daily, a huge

political asterisk hovers over us, feeding on the overwhelming air of injustice created by

George W. Bush’s political campaign. A pardon for Johnson might be the very spark of

hope this country needs right now to see through the fog this war has created. Not only

would it make clear that Justice has no statute, but that our Constitution upholds that

belief. Boundaries must be made clear and explicit. Where and when they are found to

not be so, they must be redrawn.

George Bush, for instance, is not America. This is not America’s war.
Monday April 10th, 2006 New York Times

''We stood alone, against an alliance of more than 30 armies, a third world
country against the world's greatest superpower, and it is they who have been
defeated, not us. We are very proud of ourselves.''

NASIRA AL-SADOON, editor-in-chief of a state-owned newspaper in Iraq. [A8]