A test of one man’s mettle

Najee Ali was at it again.

A familiar fixture in the Crenshaw community and an activist who has taken on a range of causes during the last several years, Ali was on another mission last weekend, a petition drive to rename a portion of the South Los Angeles street where First AME Church is located after its longtime pastor, Cecil “Chip” Murray.

Ali used his inviting smile and easygoing manner with pedestrians and customers at the Lucy Florence Coffeehouse in Leimert Park as he asked for their signatures. His personable demeanor has won him allies among police, government officials and community leaders. He’s spoken out on matters ranging from Michael Jackson to police brutality for years on national and local media; whenever an issue affects African Americans, it’s a good bet that Ali will be involved.

Ali, executive director of the nonprofit Project Islamic Hope, gave no hint over the weekend that he is facing felony charges in two criminal cases -- one of which will be heard by a Superior Court judge today -- that could conceivably put him behind bars for years.

Though Ali remains upbeat and has not stopped his activism, the cases could test his standing in a community that has at times expressed mixed reaction to him.

“There is a contingent of the community who support Najee, but there’s also a certain portion who are taking a wait-and-see attitude,” said Lee Bailey, publisher and executive producer of the Electronic Urban Report, a website linked to the syndicated radio show “Radioscope.”

“Some people see him as an ambulance chaser. And the incident of this arrest didn’t help the situation. But those of us who realize the importance of his role don’t believe that matters in the end. On every issue that affects the black community, Najee is there. The real value of Najee is that he’s somebody who puts himself on the line.”

The 41-year-old activist is scheduled to appear at a preliminary hearing today in Los Angeles Superior Court to face charges of felony hit-and-run and leaving the scene of an accident. Ali was arrested Feb. 22 and accused of running away after his car crashed head-on into another vehicle near Crenshaw and Martin Luther King Jr. boulevards. He was taken into custody minutes later at the Magic Johnson Theatres in the Baldwin Hills mall. The other driver suffered minor injuries.

Another case is scheduled for a preliminary hearing in April. Ali is facing two counts of perjury after being charged in 1999 with giving a false name to obtain a driver’s license. Both cases could bring prison time for Ali, whose given name is Ronald Todd Eskew.

The cases present a different kind of challenge for Ali, a former gang member and ex-convict who decided in prison to turn his life around devote himself to helping others. He gained national attention in 1998, when he became the spokesman for Yolanda Manuel, whose 7-year-old daughter, Sherrice Iverson, was murdered in a Nevada casino bathroom.

Since then, Ali has become one of the most outspoken figures in the black community, fighting police brutality, street violence and homelessness. He’s taken on opponents in the black community as well, rallying against pornography in a Snoop Dogg video and the NAACP’s Image Award nomination of singer R. Kelly, who has been charged with child pornography.

Last year, he was one of the key advocates who helped defeat an effort by former Councilman Nate Holden to rename Crenshaw Boulevard after the city’s first black mayor, Tom Bradley. (It was nothing against Bradley; he felt the name Crenshaw had a historical legacy in the black community). The day before he was arrested, Ali participated along with other officials in a press conference at which police asked the community to search for a weapon used by the man accused of gunning down LAPD officer Ricardo Lizarraga in a South Los Angeles shooting.

Released on his own recognizance following the hit and run arrest, Ali said he is hurt by the criminal charges. “What is painful are the accusations that I would harm somebody and then run away. I’m appalled by that. But I do feel that the community is rallying around me.”

Giving his side of the February incident, Ali maintains he was not fleeing the scene but was running to get help at the nearby police substation at the Baldwin Hills mall. When he saw that it was closed, he ran to the theaters to seek assistance. He added that he was also running to get away from a young man whom he feared was trying to attack him after the accident.

The Los Angeles district attorney’s office, which is prosecuting Ali, declined comment. Winston Kevin McKesson, Ali’s lawyer, said on Friday, “I have every confidence that we will reach a just and proper resolution and that Najee will continue to provide useful and valuable service to the community.”

McKesson, who has been a friend of Ali’s for many years, added, “I’ve always known him to be a gentle, committed person who is devoted to doing the word of God. I’ve never seen him ask for money. He’s a true public servant.”

Ali, a stout man with closely cropped hair, talks readily about his rough background growing up in Gary, Ind., and his abusive father. He came to South-Central Los Angeles as a teenager and joined a gang, landing in and out of jail until he was 28. In 1990, he was arrested as he ran out of a drug store he had just robbed. He served two years for armed robbery at Tehachapi State Prison. After reading the autobiography of Malcolm X there, he said, he made a promise to God to help others if God would save him from poverty.

After prison, he formed Project Islamic Hope, which is funded by private benefactors, Ali said. In addition to feeding the homeless and helping victims of drugs, Ali embarked on political and social campaigns.

He doesn’t have a car; instead he takes the bus, walks or hitches rides with friends. (On the night of the Feb. 22 crash he had borrowed a friend’s car.) He commutes between Los Angeles and Chicago, where he lives with his wife, Ngzina Muhammad, granddaughter of Elijah Muhammad, who formed the Nation of Islam.

He has no organized group of followers, and some of his supporters call his methods a heartfelt throwback to the grass-roots activism of the civil rights movement of the 1960s. But Ali admits he has alienated some black leaders, whom he has accused of not taking a more active role in community affairs.

“The ‘60s was a time of mass activism with groups like the Black Panthers and the NAACP,” said Earl Ofari Hutchinson, an author and KPFK radio host who is one of Ali’s closest allies. “But Najee is just one individual doing these things. He inspired me to take my activism to another level. He’s a one-man crusade who has stood up for so many things. And he gets results. He deserves the benefit of the doubt.”

That commitment and his media savvy have rubbed some in the black community the wrong way, Hutchinson said. “There’s jealousy. There are not that many black leaders and, all of a sudden, we’re seeing Najee all over television, appearing on the news, standing beside Al Sharpton. He’s stolen the thunder of some people like church leaders, who would otherwise be getting all the attention.”

Whether the community will support Ali in his legal battles is unclear. Regardless, Ali is confident that he will be cleared of the charges facing him. After that, he said, he will take a sabbatical from activism to focus on writing his autobiography. “I really want to encourage young people,” he said. “And I think I can be effective behind the scenes.”