Dr. King’s Call to Justice: A Universal Beacon in Troubled Times

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On January 20, 2025, the United States will observe Martin Luther King Jr. Day, a federal holiday honouring the life and legacy of a man who championed justice, nonviolence, and moral courage. This year, the holiday coincides with the presidential inauguration, an event often marked by political division and controversy. This rare alignment invites reflection on Dr. King’s enduring message: to confront inequality and moral sickness with unyielding hope and a commitment to justice.

Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.’s words remain as powerful today as they were on April 3, 1968, when he delivered his final speech in Memphis, Tennessee. King had travelled to Memphis to support striking sanitation workers, who were demanding fair wages and better working conditions. On the eve of his assassination, King addressed a nation fractured by racial injustice. His vision of equality and his call for courage transcend national borders, offering a beacon of hope to a world grappling with inequality and conflict.

During a recent visit to Montgomery, Alabama, I was reminded of the enduring weight of his message. Once the heart of the Confederacy during the Civil War, Montgomery later became the birthplace of King’s rise as a leader of the civil rights movement during the 1955–56 Montgomery Bus Boycott. This pivotal moment solidified his philosophy of nonviolence as a force for change. This legacy of courage and resistance is reflected in the city’s monuments to justice, including the National Memorial for Peace and Justice, where I stood before steel columns etched with the names of thousands of Black Americans lynched across the United States between 1877 and 1950. The terror these columns represent is staggering, and the true number of victims is undoubtedly higher.

At the nearby Legacy Museum, I watched film clips of King’s final speech, presented alongside exhibits tracing the history of slavery and racial injustice. Despite death threats and a torrential rainstorm that swept through Memphis that night, King stood at the Mason Temple Church of God in Christ and challenged his followers: “The question is not, ‘If I stop to help this man in need, what will happen to me?’ The question is, ‘If I do not stop to help the sanitation workers, what will happen to them?”

King’s ability to confront moral sickness while holding onto hope defined his leadership. He diagnosed the nation’s struggles with stark honesty: “The world is all messed up. The nation is sick. Trouble is in the land.” Yet he also reminded his audience: “Only when it is dark enough can you see the stars.”

His final words were prophetic: “I’ve been to the mountaintop… And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land.” He concluded with extraordinary calm and resolve: “And so I’m happy tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man!”

On the same trip, I revisited Lowndes County, located along the historic Selma-to-Montgomery March route and known during the civil rights era as “Bloody Lowndes” for its violent resistance to Black enfranchisement. In the summer of 1969, I worked there on voter registration, witnessing both the extraordinary courage of local activists and the brutal opposition they faced—an opposition that had claimed lives just a few years earlier. Among these sacrifices was Jimmie Lee Jackson, whose death in Marion, Alabama, in February 1965 became a catalyst for the Selma-to-Montgomery March. Later that year, in Lowndes County, Viola Liuzzo, a White activist, was murdered by Klansmen (members of the White supremacist Ku Klux Klan) after the Selma-to-Montgomery March. Months after Liuzzo’s death, Jonathan Daniels, an Episcopal seminarian, was killed in Hayneville, Lowndes County, while shielding Ruby Sales, a young Black civil rights activist, from a shotgun blast. These sacrifices—Black and White—propelled the movement forward and underscored the steep price of progress.

Today, Lowndes County reflects some of that hard-won change. In 1970, John Hulett, a Black man once denied the right to vote, became sheriff. Last November, his grandniece, LaShandra Myrick, was re-elected as county probate judge—a testament to progress once thought impossible.

Yet this history is not just about victories; it is a reminder of the work that remains. Efforts to restrict voting access echo tactics from the Jim Crow era—a period of racial segregation and disenfranchisement of Black Americans in the southern United States, enforced through laws, violence, and intimidation. Political intimidation still targets election workers and officials. The racial wealth gap remains as stark as it was in the 1960s, with Black families holding just a fraction of the wealth of White families. Political violence, from threats against election officials to attacks on protestors, reminds us that progress can be reversed.

King understood that the fight for justice is never finished. Listening to his words in his final speech, I reflected on his unshakable belief in a better world, even when he faced mortal danger. The Promised Land he spoke of still feels far away—but his vision transcends borders, resonating with struggles for equality everywhere.

Dr. King’s philosophy of nonviolence, inspired by Mahatma Gandhi, provided a universal framework for confronting injustice. Gandhi’s success in achieving India’s independence through peaceful resistance gave King a roadmap for addressing systemic oppression in the United States. At its heart, King’s vision called for justice, moral courage, and the inherent dignity of all people.

In today’s global battles against inequality, discrimination, and authoritarianism, King’s message remains as vital as ever. His philosophy offers a universal framework for peacebuilding in an era of division, challenging us to confront systemic injustices by bridging divides through collective action and fostering hope. His enduring question—What happens to those we choose not to help?—remains our compass. As we honour King’s legacy, we are reminded that it is in the darkest moments that the stars of hope and justice shine brightest. By embracing courage and compassion, each of us can take small but meaningful steps toward creating a more just and peaceful world.

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Jordan Ryan is a member of the Toda International Research Advisory Council (TIRAC) at the Toda Peace Institute, a Senior Consultant to the Folke Bernadotte Academy (Sweden)  and former Vice President for Peace at The Carter Center. He recently completed an assignment as the lead author of the UN integration review for the Executive Office of the Secretary-General. Mr. Ryan served as UN Assistant Secretary-General and UNDP Assistant Administrator from 2009-2014, was Deputy Special Representative in Liberia, and UN Resident Coordinator in Vietnam. He holds graduate degrees from Columbia University and George Washington University and received his B.A. from Yale University. He was also a fellow at Harvard's Kennedy School.