Remembering Imam Jamil Abdullah Al-Amin: Activist Formerly Known as H. Rap Brown Dead at 82

Long before his death on Sunday at the age of 82 in a North Carolina federal medical facility, Imam Jamil Abdullah Al-Amin — the activist formerly known as H. Rap Brown — did not wait for permission to define himself. 

Far before federal agents called him a menace and politicians wrote laws in his name, he was a young man from Baton Rouge who believed the country needed an honest confrontation with its own history. 

“Violence is necessary. Violence is a part of America’s culture. It is as American as cherry pie,” he said during the height of the Black Power movement.  

Al-Amin grew up fighting his way to and from school. 

He was sent to a Catholic orphanage for discipline and learned early that resistance required both strength and wit. He earned the nickname “Rap” for his unmatched wordplay on the streets of Baton Rouge. 

His political direction began with his older brother, Ed Brown, who introduced him to the Nonviolent Action Group at Howard University, where the activist met future movement leaders like Courtland Cox, Muriel Tillinghast, and Stokely Carmichael, who later described him as a serious and strong brother whose calm presence inspired confidence.

By 1967, the activist became chairman of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee at just 23 and immediately pushed the group to remove the word “nonviolent” from its name. His speeches captured the rage of Black communities across America. He reminded audiences that Black people had waited a century after emancipation for promises that never came. 

“Black folk built America, and if it don’t come around, we’re gonna burn America down,” he told crowds from college campuses to street corners.

Federal authorities responded with surveillance and suppression. FBI COINTELPRO documents placed him on a list of four men considered top targets to disrupt. 

Congress passed the federal anti-riot statute in 1968 and openly called it the “H. Rap Brown Law.” 

When asked for comment, Al-Amin, then Brown, rejected the idea that a statute could contain widespread fury. 

“We don’t control anybody,” he said. “The Black people are rebelling.”

His arrest record grew as law enforcement pursued him across states. In 1971 he was wounded in a police shootout in New York, denied the charges, and was convicted of robbery and assault. He served five years in Attica. 

That time behind bars reshaped him. The foreword to “Die Nigger Die,” originally published in 1969 and went through seven printings, describes his spiritual shift as a change rooted in self-discipline and study, noting that he embraced Islam and emerged committed to building a moral path forward. 

“The mission of a believer in Islam is totally different from coexisting or being a part of the system,” he once said, according to Grassroots Thinking.

From Spiritual Leader to Political Prisoner

After his release, now known as Al-Amin, he settled in Atlanta’s West End. He founded a mosque, ran a small store, organized youth programs, and worked to rid the neighborhood of drugs. 

He preached self-control and responsibility. He explained that the Muslim’s duty began with teaching oneself and then guiding one’s family, adding that successful struggle required remembrance of the Creator along with the doing of good deeds.

To many in Atlanta, he became a trusted spiritual leader. A local Islamic civic leader called him a pillar of the Muslim community. To law enforcement, he remained the militant figure they had pursued in the 1960s. 

FBI agents infiltrated his religious circle. The New York Times reported that some investigations began shortly after the first World Trade Center bombing in 1993. 

In 2000, two Fulton County deputies were shot while serving a warrant. One died. The surviving deputy identified Al-Amin. He denied involvement. Federal inmate Otis Jackson later confessed repeatedly and under oath to being the shooter.

 The Fulton County District Attorney’s Conviction Integrity Unit interviewed Jackson but never moved to vacate the conviction. 

In early February, The Informer reported that many people, including the imprisoned activist’s son and members of the Imam Jamil Action Network, were fighting nationwide to help Al-Amin, who was suffering from a growth on his face while in prison.

His son called for immediate care in order to avoid the malformation killing him.

“He’s definitely deteriorating so I’m not going to do the whole ‘He’s OK, alhamdulillah’ sugarcoating that we usually do. We need to keep making noise. He needs treatment,” said his son Kairi Al-Amin, an attorney and rapper known as Shaykh Ri, in a Jan. 30 Instagram post. “This doesn’t have to kill him, but it can….don’t stop mentioning the Imam. Keep his name alive, and make these people understand that people care about him.”

More than nine months later, in a joint post announcing his death, Imam Omar Suleiman, the younger Al-Amin, and Students for Imam Jamil celebrated the longtime activist and faith leader’s life and many contributions to the world, while emphasizing his newfound liberty.  

“Imam Jamil Al Amin (H Rap Brown) has returned to His Lord. For years we fought to free him. Today he is free. From prison to paradise God willing. He never lost his dignity, his voice never shook,” Suleiman wrote in the collaboration post.  “His innocence was proven, but the system didn’t care. We cared. We loved. And InshaAllah, we will continue to move forward with his legacy.”

Al-Amin’s Death Sparks Call to Action

After Imam Al-Amin’s death in federal custody, the Council on American-Islamic Relations (CAIR) and its Georgia chapter renewed their call for justice. 

“To God we belong and to Him we return,” CAIR National Executive Director Nihad Awad said in a statement.  “Imam Jamil Al-Amin was a hero of the civil rights movement and a victim of injustice who passed away in a prison, jailed for a crime he did not commit.” 

Awad added that the justice system should reopen the case and clear his name.

Al-Amin’s life spanned eras of open segregation, mass rebellion, state repression, spiritual transformation, and community leadership. 

He understood that freedom movements required structure and purpose. 

In one of his clearest reflections on struggle, he said liberation movements had to rest on political principles that gave meaning and substance to the lives of the masses. 

“And it is this struggle,” Al-Amin said, “that advances the creation of a people’s ideology.”