Float Like A Butterfly, Sting Like A Bee
NOTE: This eulogy was originally written in 2016 after the passing of Muhammad Ali.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee; his hands can’t hit what his eyes can’t see.”
Muhammad Ali’s words could just as well have appeared in the Tao Te Ching or the The Way of Chaung Tzu. Taoism is all about “flow”, an concept the most people in sports, particularly the martial arts, understand to the letter. Bruce Lee said that one must “be like water,” in fighting and in life, they must be able to adapt to the shifting and uncertain environments. To achieve this, you must have wu wei, a Taoist concept meaning, “non-action”, or more specifically, “action that is spontaneous and effortless.” This is not merely a “spiritual” idea, but also a physical one, too. As we know, “muscle memory” is what occurs when we practice the same techniques to the point that it becomes second nature, where you can call upon it without thought. Too much thought hinders style, so in this respect, wu wei is valuable. Flow abounds in the “float like a butterfly” quote.
This famous adage of Ali’s is often misquoted as “ fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee.” While this misquote seems minor, it distorts the message of the whole saying. In my mind, there is a world of difference between the act floating and the act of flying. “Floating” implies a stationary presence, whereas “flying” implies a soaring motion. One is active while the other is passive. Now don’t misinterpret “passive” to mean “lazy”. Is the butterfly lazy when floating around the flower of her choice? No, she is prepared; prepared to taste the nectar, or escape when in danger. A bee can only sting once, because the very act of doing so causes her to die. Thus, the bee already knows how to sting, but she must learn when to sting, lest she waste her life. Now, throwing the wrong punch won’t kill you in boxing, but being sloppy will. If this edict is maintained, at least in principle, then you will conserve precious energy. We see this reflected his boxing. Ali was fast, often out of the reach of his opponent’s punches. During a match with Michael Dokes, while stuck in a corner, he dodged 21 punches in 10 seconds. So when Ali struck, and strike he did, he made sure every hit counted.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee; his hands can’t hit what his eyes can’t see.”
As is common in the martial arts, this is a philosophy that extends outside of the ring. As fighter, one of the all time greats, it was probably expected that he would make for a fearsome soldier in the Vietnam. Indeed, he would’ve made an effective propaganda tool for recruitment. Yet he refused, for the simple reason that the Vietcong never threw a punch at him, “I ain’t got no quarrel with the Viet Cong. No Viet Cong ever called me a nigger.” He bowed out of that fight, one where he saw no victory. America saw a false victory, and only ended up hitting themselves. How strange that Ali is so lauded for something he didn’t do, but we’d do well to recall the words of Chaung Tzu, “The non-action of the wise man is not inaction,” (Merton). By simply refusing to fight in Vietnam, Ali spoke as loudly as any protest.
Ali did see victory, however, in the struggle for racial equality. Why should black people be sent to die abroad, when blacks were dying by the thousands at home? His desire for black liberation made him good friends with Malcolm X and drove him into Elijah Muhammad’s Nation of Islam. He flaunted his blackness without appeasement, casting off his “slave name” of “Cassius Clay” for “Muhammad Ali,” and bragging (often rightly), about his prowess. Ali had self-confidence instead of self-pity, a necessary impetus for any champion, “I am America. I am the part you won’t recognize. But get used to me — black, confident, and cocky.” His eyes could see the goal, so his hands could hit the targets. Sometimes his eyes saw the wrong goals, and his hands hit the wrong targets.
The Nation of Islam was a racist sect, promoting the dogma that whites were devils and integration was suicide. Of course, the religious group is now little more than a laughing stock, being led by conspiratorial bigots like Louis Farrakhan. Though in the 1960’s, the doctrine of “whites as devils” was very attractive to blacks who had suffered through segregation, lynchings, and police brutality, among other crimes. To the religious-minded blacks, this probably seemed like a reasonable explanation. Ali took up many of these same views when he converted, saying, “Integration is wrong, we don’t want to live with the white man. I’m sure no intelligent white person in his or her right mind wants black men and women marrying their white sons and daughters and in return introducing their grandchildren to half brown, kinky haired people.” Ali even had a falling out with Malcolm X, when the intellectual decided to leave the movement and embrace a more multi-racial Islam. The two never reconciled before the latter’s assassination. Ali was also in natural conflict with Martin Luther King, who referred to Ali’s Nation of Islam as, “made up of people who have lost faith in America, who have absolutely repudiated Christianity, and who have concluded that the white man is an incorrigible devil.” Regardless, their shared opposition to the Vietnam War, as well as their concerns for the poor, led them to develop a private relationship. At a rally for fair housing in Ali’s hometown of Louisville, Kentucky, the boxer appeared with Dr. King, saying, “In your struggle for freedom, justice and equality, I am with you.” When Ali refused to be drafted into Vietnam, King told his congregation, “No matter what you think of Mr. Muhammad Ali’s religion, certainly you have to admire his courage.” Perhaps Ali thought of King, as well as Malcolm, when he eventually abandoned the Nation for Sunni Islam.
That Ali had the humility to change his views, religious views no less, reveals a sincere commitment to the truth. This is a matter that those smearing him postmortem as a “racist” overlook. Ali regretted that his relationship with Malcolm turned sour, “If I could go back and do it over again, I would never have turned my back on him.” A stubbornness common to human beings is that he we like to believe we’re right the first time, and that it’s always the other person who’s confused. Followers of Tao know that they must go wherever the current takes them. This means casting off what is unnecessary and picking up what is useful. As Bruce Lee has said, “In order to control myself I must first accept myself by going with and not against my nature.” So it went with Ali.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee; his hands can’t hit what his eyes can’t see.”
Vietnam aside, Ali did engage with the world, even when it didn’t hit him. He stung, all right, but he stung without a bullet, or a fist. His rebirth as a Sunni Muslim helped to shape him into a peace-maker. At a time when Republican politicians like Trump, Carson, and Cruz, want to punish all Muslims by the acts of their most fundamentalist adherents, Ali reminds us of the Muslims who don’t bomb, rape, or torture. His peaceful words came with peaceful acts. In 1990, Ali was able to free fifteen American hostages from the clutches of Iraq’s former dictator, Saddam Hussein, just before the start of the Persian Gulf War. Ali had previously been involved in failed hostage releases with Lebanon and Iran, though it was here he at last had success. The New York Post reports that when Hussein invaded Kuwait, he kidnapped thousands of foreigners as “human shields” to defend himself from Western retaliation. Among them were fifteen Americans, some of whom worked at a local GM power plant. Ali’s plan to negotiate the release was dismissed by U.S. officials as “loose-cannon diplomacy”, but he succeeded, mainly by listening while Hussein boasted. Infamous braggart though Ali was, however, he didn’t trumpet his victory, remarking of the hostages, “They don’t owe me nothin’.”
It is often said that Ali’s most difficult fight was against Parkinson’s, a disease that stilled his flesh and slurred his speech. Yet he anointed his head with oil and refused to disfigure his face with cries of “Why me?”. The nobility of the body gave way for the nobility of the spirit. Indeed, a body is only as strong as the mind that directs it. Perhaps Ali, though outwardly quiet, reached an inner enlightenment through his embrace of Hazrat Inayat Khan’s Universal Sufism. As counter-extremist for Quilliam, Maajid Nawaz, has written,
“Inayat Khan taught that a person deeply involved in the spiritual life could go to church, mosque, or temple and act as one with their fellow religious devotees. All paths lead to the same “oneness.” Such an inclusive message was inspired by the much revered medieval Sufi master of universalism, Ibn Arabi.
“For it was centuries before, during the height of Islam’s Golden Age that Ibn Arabi proclaimed, “Beware of confining yourself to a particular belief and denying all else, for much good would elude you-indeed, the knowledge of reality would elude you. Be in yourself for all forms of belief, for God is too vast and tremendous to be restricted to one belief rather than another.”
“Is it any wonder then, to witness at Ali’s funeral last week the dazzling display of diversity, and plethora of faiths, races and views, all included in one ceremony.”
Muhammad Ali. Black. Muslim. Boxer. Braggart. War Resister. Diplomat. Poet. The Greatest. The Way led him through many cycles, and he reinvented himself accordingly. Popular or unpopular, Ali moved to the beats of his conscience, not the beats of the times. Though his body was broken, his spirit prevailed.
“Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee; his hands can’t hit what his eyes can’t see.”
Bibliography
Merton, Thomas. The Way Of Chaung Tzu. New Directions: United States, 1969. 80. Print.
Originally published at http://sansuthecat.blogspot.com on June 15, 2016.
