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"Main Event" | page 1, 2
Bingham is referring to Ali's decision to refuse induction into military service during the Vietnam War because of his religious and moral beliefs. A new book by Bingham and writer Max Wallace, "Muhammad Ali's Greatest Fight: Cassius Clay vs. the United States of America," relates how Ali took his battle all the way to the Supreme Court, which eventually ruled in his favor. But in the meantime Ali was stripped of his heavyweight title and excoriated in America for his refusal to serve. "He gave up millions of dollars from 1967 to 1971," Bingham says. "If he'd gone into the Army, he would've had it made. He would've never seen a war. But he couldn't be a part of something that wasn't right. That's real." Ali's principled stance also made him a hero to many -- an icon of courage and black pride. No wonder the fans in Zaire adored Ali, seeing in him a symbol of the struggle against oppression. Mobutu had brought the fight to Kinshasa by offering a guaranteed purse of $5 million for each fighter. There was also an "African Woodstock" organized in conjunction with the bout featuring performances from the likes of the Spinners, James Brown, B.B. King and others. But it was Ali's attempt to regain his lost title that gave the event its drama. "When George Foreman came to Zaire, he came with his pet German shepherd," recalls Bingham. "That was a no-no because it was a reminder of Zaire's colonial past where the police kept the crowds in line with German shepherds. So they hated him. But they loved Ali. That's why the crowds would always chant, 'Ali boma-ye!' which means 'Ali, kill him!' It was wonderful seeing the feeling they had for Ali. It was a lot of fun just hanging out." "I would add that to know George Foreman now is to know an entirely different man. But at that time, he was a big brute." In fact, Foreman was heavily favored to win the fight. ABC commentator Howard Cosell predicted Ali's loss and subsequent retirement, and he was not alone in believing that the younger Foreman would destroy Ali, then 32. But the experts were dead wrong. Using a technique he called "rope-a-dope," Ali allowed himself to be pummelled by the 25-year-old champ. When Foreman tired, Ali fought back, knocking him out in the eighth round. It was a stunning victory. Yet the fight itself is only a small part of the large exhibit. "People know I'm not a fight photographer," says Bingham. "I'm Ali's friend, and I was always nervous for him. When he got hit, I got hit. So it was hard for me to watch." Bingham was more successful at capturing the spectacle that surrounded Ali's eight-week stay in Zaire. There's a young, vibrant Don King courting the press with a smile and a handshake. There's the press itself, including writer-celebrities like Mailer and George Plimpton, as well as correspondents from all over the world. There are Ali and Foreman's training camps, and even a photo of Ali spying on Foreman with one of Bingham's cameras. And there are the Zairian people -- sometimes dancing in colorful garments, other times cheering on their idol Ali in huge, smiling masses. Ali and Bingham met in 1962 while Bingham was a cub photographer for the Los Angeles Sentinel, one of the largest black newspapers in the country. Bingham was given the assignment to cover Ali, then Cassius Clay, who was in town for a fight. Later, when Bingham spotted Ali and his brother scoping chicks on a corner in downtown L.A., he offered them a ride. They've been pals ever since. "I made Ali through my photographs," he laughs. "No, think about it, Ali's the most recognizable face on Earth. Me, I love meeting people. I love seeing the world. It's been one hell of a ride. Going here, going there. Meeting all these so-called big shits, little shits. It's been wonderful. I have the best job in the world. No one gets to do what I do." "People call me his personal photographer, his friend. After the fights, it would always be Ali and I and his brother. Today it's Ali and I and his wife. Sometimes just Ali and I." The friendship is genuine, but so is Bingham's talent. Indeed, both factors may help explain the long association. Bingham is a great photographer who needs a larger-than-life subject. Ali is a colossal figure who requires a photographer nonpareil. In each other, they've apparently met their match. And the Fowler Museum's exhibit offers ample evidence to this effect. "Actually, I've told each of his wives that I was here before you came," says Bingham, smiling. "And I'll be here when you leave."
"The Main Event: The Ali/Foreman Extravaganza Through the Lens of Howard L. Bingham" continues through Sept. 3 at the UCLA Fowler Museum of Cultural History in Los Angeles on the UCLA campus. Call (310) 825-4361.
- - - - - - - - - - - - Sound off Related Salon stories The greatest The reality of the 20th century's most famous athlete is inspiring enough. Why turn him into a theology?
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