by Mustafa Ali

Thirty years ago, I stood shoulder to shoulder with a sea of Black men on the National Mall, our presence a sermon stitched from hope and history. October 1995 — the Million Man March — turned pavement into sacred ground and silence into a thunderous hymn of purpose. Public Enemy’s “Fight the Power” pulsed through the crowd like a heartbeat, and in that rhythm we reclaimed an eternal truth: power belongs to us — until we surrender it.

Today, as we stand in the long shadow of that history, the need for that power feels even more urgent. We inhabit a moment where tyranny has learned to wear a suit and smile for the cameras, where the language of democracy is twisted to justify undemocratic ends. The Trump era — both its first act and its bitter sequel — is defined not just b

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