Early Black Comic Book Heroes: Mal Duncan (1/4)

Mal Duncan (aka the New Guardian, Hornblower) is actually one of DC's earliest black superheroes. Appearing first in Teen Titans (series 1), he joined the group at a point where they had sworn off use of their super powers, after accidentally causing the death of a great social reformer (issue 25). The group takes on secret work under the guidance of the world's richest man, Mr. Jupiter, having to first prove themselves in some tests, which is where the story, "A Penny For a Black Star" (Mar-Apr 1970), in Teen Titans 26, picks up (story by Bob Kanigher, art Nick Cardy). First, a quick summary from issue 27:

The Titans pass the physical, and are then sent to Hell's Corner, a tough inner-city environment, to fend for themselves with just a penny. They use their pennies to buy drinks from a little girl, and in doing so attract the attention of a local street gang, Hell's Hawks, whose turf they have unknowingly blundered into.

The gang starts to rough up the little girl, who happens to be Mal Duncan's younger sister. The Titans, reluctant to break their oath of non-super power use, don't look like they're going to be any help.

Just as well that Mal happens along and jumps in to defend his sister. Seeing him vastly outnumbered, the Titans act, but without going 'super'.

The gang is seen off for now, but Mal is under no illusion that they're finished. He also notices that the Titans don't really have a clue regarding the environment they've wandered into.

Wonder Girl and Lilith do as they've been instructed by Jupiter, and go looking for work, which they find in a local clothing store. The boys end up taking on some youth work.

This brings the Titans back into contact with Mal, who is entered for a boxing match. The Titans first, however, start getting anonymous threats.

In the ring Mal is facing the leader of the evil Hawks gang - it's a real grudge match, which Mal eventually wins. In the changing rooms, after the contest, the gang seeks revenge and has Mal trapped. Now it's the Titans' turn to come to Mal's rescue.

Mal points the Titans in the direction of some evening relaxation, and they insist he accompanies them. Mal is expecting inferior treatment of the kind he's used to receiving from racist whites in his area, and is pleasantly surprised when he is not only accepted as part of the group, but also attracts interest from Lilith. The Titans ask Mal if he'd like to join their secret project, and upon their recommendation, Jupiter puts him through the necessary test.

Mal feels inadequate, like he doesn't deserve to be part of the group, especially since he has no super powers. Although seemingly rather illogical to the reader, Mal figures he can prove his worth by sneaking aboard a one-way rocket trip to Venus, because a live astronaut would be able to increase the scientific results reaped by the mission.

 

The Titans and Mr. Jupiter are, of course, not going to let Mal sacrifice his life for some data, and so enact a scheme to retrieve him, in issue 27, "Nightmare in Space" (May-June 1970).

The Titans set off on the rescue mission, leaving part of their crew on the Moon, where a whole other adventure, involving some friendly aliens, occurs. Those still in space rendezvous with Mal's Venus probe.

One tricky rescue later, and the command module must now reunite with the group from the lunar surface. All back together, the Titans head for home and more adventures.

Mal became a regular member of the Teen Titans for the remainder of the first series, with some stories featuring him in a minor way, and others focusing wholly or partly on him. The remaining three Out Of This World posts on Mal will cover the main details of his introduction into the DC universe in the early to mid-1970s, with an analysis of the character as he had developed by the final cancellation of the original Teen Titans comic.

Social History in Comics: Our Army At War 179 - "A Penny for Jackie Johnson!"

This Kanigher/Kubert Jackie Johnson story in the April 1966 issue of Our Army At War (179) is reminiscent of the Lee/Kirby story in Sgt. Fury 6 of a few years earlier. One of Bob Kanigher's specialties was the writing of anti-racist comics, and many of the few 1960s comics to address this issue were by him. The tension between the tolerant Johnson and the bigoted Sharkey, who, from the moment he joins Easy, harasses the African American soldier, recalls the sparring between Gabriel Jones and George Stonewell in Sgt. Fury 6. Sharkey represents a stereotype of sorts himself - he identifies himself as from the mountains, suggesting a fairly remote white community hanging onto antebellum racist values. Sharkey also voices a stereotypically negative opinion of the reliability of African American fighters/soldiers. Although set in WWII, in which there were few instances when white and black soldiers fought side by side, the anti-racist messages in both the Sgt. Rock and Sgt. Fury stories appear aimed at combating the racial tension that at the time was tearing apart the U.S. military, especially in Vietnam, as well as civilian society.

The plot revolves around the penny Sharkey placed in Jackie's hand when he offered it to him when they first met. Throughout Jackie leaves the door open for Sharkey to drop his racist stance, but Sharkey ain't bitin'. Finally, in extremely dangerous circumstances, Sharkey and Jackie are both wounded, and Jackie risks his life to rescue Sharkey and get him back to camp. At last Sharkey breaks, and experiences a life-changing revision of consciousness. Rock, as usual the story's narrator, ends by reminding the reader of what he said at the beginning, that in Easy there's only one skin color, and that's G.I.!

Kanigher's message here is simple. It's in our best interests as Americans to see each other that way, as Americans and not as separate categories of people based on race and skin color, even though those morphological and even cultural differences might be there. I'd say that on one level Kanigher seems to promote the 'melting pot' approach to integration, because Easy, as American society in microcosm, is the uniting principle that over-rides and even obliterates any differences amongst its members. On the other hand there is also recognition of racial differences within that unification, exemplified by Rock's comment that Jackie is always fighting his own war to gain acceptance of his race. That could be extended into a philosophy that promotes acceptance of diversity within the over-arching unity. Jackie is not expected to nullify his African American identity. Each member of Easy is expected to accept the others without qualification, regardless of racial or ethnic difference. That is the usual, unspoken (because it isn't necessary normally to bring up the issue) status quo of Easy, disrupted in this story by the incoming presence of a racist whose divisive view of humanity clashes with Easy's harmony. This story does place the responsibility for racist attitudes with a white American, but the reality in the U.S. military was that, increasingly as Vietnam wore on especially, racial tension or actual violence within the forces was as much instigated by African Americans as it was by whites. This is a trickier issue to address, because historically it had been clear that the white American, as the oppressor, was at least the only force capable of open expression of racism. Racist African Americans were of course in existence but somehow excused for their racism because, as Malcolm X pointed out, such was a natural response to the racist oppression African Americans had been subjected to. However, while it might be understandable in terms of causality, racism of all descriptions causes division and is destructive. Both Marvel and DC did attempt to address anti-white racism, appropriately far less frequently than they looked at racism against African Americans, and it is definitely an even more sensitive issue. It's also important to remember that we're talking about very, very few comic books that dared to tackle the issues of racism and integration in the 1960s. A fraction of a fraction of a fraction of 1% of the total number of comics produced during the decade. Those books that do address it tend to be well-written, and by authors whose purpose appears to be to make a statement, not just to gain sales by appealing to the African American audience. Maybe the company allowed it because they thought, as an idea, that it would sell, but nobody writes this kind of material to this standard without some deep personal conviction, especially when society was still divided on the issue- it comes across on the page. Kanigher was a big writer and editor, who didn't blow his own trumpet, so you don't hear him mentioned as much as others who did as much or less work than he did for comics. But the more you study his anti-racist comics, and realize just how rare it was to write such material in mainstream comics back then, the more I think you'll recognize that Bob Kanigher was not only a pioneer in this area, but a man of strong and well-considered principles, who abhorred racism and actively sought to do what he could, through his work, to combat the harm it does to so many people, both perpetrators and victims, as well as to our society as a whole.

Social History in Comics: G. I. Combat 141 - "Let Me Live... Let Me Die!"

Joe Kubert's cover of G. I. Combat 141, like many DC covers from the late 60s or very early 70s, is somewhat misleading. Taken at face value, and it's the word balloons that do it, the cover suggests to readers that in the story the Haunted Tank is going to be destroyed, and that somehow it will be the fault of an African American man. Quite why DC would want to create the latter impression is curious, because Robert Kanigher's story reads with an integrationist, anti-racist message. The story begins with the Haunted Tank crew re-stocking with ammunition from a supply depot manned by a segregated African American unit, much as would have often been the case in WWII.

The action takes it's leave of the supply depot, and the crew of the Haunted Tank meet up with Sgt. Rock and Easy Co.! So this is a crossover issue.

On this next page Kanigher highlights not only the hell dished out by a tank with it's machine gun when fully loaded, but the hell experienced by the gunners when that ammo runs out. The point seems to be, without those men supplying the ammo, war is hell for those expected to fight. Rock and Easy will hold the position while the Tank goes back for more ammunition. But what they find when they arrive back at the supply camp is sickening indeed.

At the ammo dump there's one lone survivor. After loading up, and hearing the survivor's story and of his frustration at being in the war but without the opportunity to actually fight, Jeb insists the un-named African American soldier ride with them. Just as well, because when the Tank is attacked by a fighter plane their new crew member saves the day (note the contrast between what actually happens in the story and the impression given by the cover).

Back on the front line, the un-named African American soldier mans the machine gun in a fierce fight with the Nazis, and just as victory is achieved, he takes what turns out to be a fatal bullet. This one had some signs that it was going to end tragically, and sure enough it does.

Superb art by Russ Heath really compliments Kanigher's script. We're left at the end with another Kanigher message of transcending those racial categorizations that divide us as human beings. His anti-racism messages were rare but clearly important to him, as over the years he didn't let up. He wasn't a lone voice in the comic industry, but he said the most out of the few who wrote in this way. Just like the African American heroes of WWII to whom he was drawing attention in this story, Kanigher's status as a great comic book writer, one with possibly the most important message ever delivered by the medium,  is not fully recognized. Huge numbers of African Americans fought in WWII but few had direct, front line combat roles. Those that did often distinguished themselves but didn't receive the recognition they deserved. Nor was the importance of those vast numbers relegated to supplying the combat troops fully recognized. Gradually, and while it's still possible to do so, people here and there work to correct the tale history tells of those events, like in an article I came across recently. But here in this 1970 DC comic, Kanigher and Heath were doing that 40 years ago, probably almost un-noticed at the time, except by regular readers of The Haunted Tank! And certainly the more I read of Kanigher's work, the more I feel I want to highlight his contribution not only to my favorite art form, but also to eradicating racism.