In my New Jersey prison, Christians, Jews and Muslims congregate to worship and read their respective religious texts — as is their constitutional right.
But those of us devoted to the teachings of the Nation of Gods and Earths aren’t afforded the same luxuries. We’re considered gang members.
We cannot observe our “honor days” representing the birth and death dates of our Father.
We cannot congregate together for our monthly Universal Parliaments on the last Sunday of every month.
We are prohibited from possessing our study guides, including the 120 Lessons, Supreme Mathematics, Supreme Alphabets, or any other literature pertaining to the Nation of Gods and Earths. If we are caught with any of those materials in our possession, we’re thrown in lockup.
New Jersey is one of a handful of states that designates the Nation of Gods and Earths what the state prison system calls a “security threat group” — a designation typically reserved for prison gangs.
But we are not a gang, and we should not be targeted for our cultural beliefs and denied our right to congregate with like-minded individuals.
The Nation of Gods and Earths began in 1964, when its founder, the Father, Clarence 13X, split from the Nation of Islam. He professed the group’s central concept that the Black man is the embodiment of God with the proper name Allah, and the Black woman is the embodiment of Earth, from which the origins of life sprang. Also known as the Five Percenters, the group believes that only 5% of “humanity is made up of righteous people who understand the truth — that the living God is the Black man who teaches freedom and justice to Black communities,” according to Britannica.
I was first introduced to teachings of the Nation of Gods and Earths in 1997. Since that time, I’ve embarked on a journey of personal growth and development. This culture has taught me self-reflection, critical thinking and personal accountability. Above all, it has motivated me to study vigorously — everything from astrology to zoology.
The state justifies labeling our group as a gang because some of its members have engaged in violent behavior. But, by this logic, Christians should be prohibited from practicing their faith, as members of this religion have certainly committed violence in this prison.
Another reason the state refuses to recognize the Nation of Gods and Earths is because adherents emphatically reject the term “religion” and instead refer to it as a way of life, or culture.
This is true. But this distinction is irrelevant. Well over a dozen state prison systems recognize the Nation of Gods and Earths as a religious group, affirming their right to practice its tradition and honor its culture. In 2023, the U.S. Court of Appeals for the Fourth Circuit said a lower court erred by finding that the group was “not a religion.” The ruling posited “an open factual question about whether” the Nation of Gods and Earths qualifies as a religion.
Courts have issued similar rulings in recent years in Virginia and Texas.
The New Jersey Department of Corrections did not respond to questions provided by a Prison Journalism Project editor.
Critics of the Nation of Gods and Earths are quick to underscore our group’s “problematic statements,” as one judge described certain passages in our group’s central texts. These statements included calling white people “the devil” and suggesting that “all Muslims will murder the devil, because they know he is a snake and, also, if he be allowed to live, he would sting someone else. Each Muslim is required to bring four devils.”
Our group is neither anti-white nor pro-Black. We are against white supremacy, white privilege and its various manifestations — including the horrible legacy of colonialism, slavery, lynching and police brutality.
I understand how someone not familiar with our lexicon could misinterpret violent intentions from these statements. But the “four devils” symbolizes the vices of man: lust, envy, jealousy and hate. In our teachings, those vices along with other immoral characteristics must be murdered, figuratively, because if we allow them to live inside of us, they will surely “sting” someone else.
Our ability to share space and practice our culture is a form of comfort. Our culture provides a sense of community and moral support to its members, which is hugely needed in the context of a maximum security prison.
Being attached to a religious or spiritual group provides a person with meaningful purpose, contributing to mental wellness and, ultimately, to our growth as people.
“As incarcerated individuals, we’re striving to live more productive lives,” said Tahj Pines, a member of the group. “Not having the freedom to practice our way of life hinders our rehabilitation progress.”
