What a chance encounter taught me about Jesse Jackson’s true stature

As tributes pour in for the American civil rights leader, Joe Murphy recalls a misjudged interview – and how a frail stranger showed the US politician’s fight for freedom resonated far beyond the US

As the tributes pour in for Jesse Jackson, who has died aged 84, I was reminded of how it took a chance encounter with a frail and elderly man to teach me just how important the American civil rights leader was to the lives of millions of Britons.

It happened in London’s Leicester Square – which, for reasons I will explain, was the unlikely and wholly inappropriate location for me to interview this veteran politician.

This was 2012, and Jackson, then 67, was still a regular visitor to the city, endlessly meeting campaigners, though he was no longer followed everywhere by a large media pack.

Naturally, I jumped at the chance to meet him. Jackson was a hero of the battle against segregation in the US, a direct flesh-and-blood link to one of the greatest struggles of the past century. Who on earth would turn down a chance to talk with a man who was a friend and ally of Dr Martin Luther King?

But I made a serious mistake. In my defence, I’d been warned not to expect more than 20 minutes with him, including time for photographs, as he passed through Leicester Square. So, stupidly, I thought: “I’ll interview him on a bench in the square.” It was a lovely spring day, and the photos would look good. Surely few British people would recognise him – he wasn’t on the UK news that often. Anyway, I’d interviewed cabinet ministers in public places before and been left alone by passers-by.

I soon discovered how badly I had misjudged the situation.

At the appointed time, I was waiting with a photographer in the square when the tall, imposing figure of Jesse Jackson hove into view. He literally stood out among the crowd – all height, charisma, Hollywood looks and unmistakable presence.

Rev Jesse Jackson was a flesh-and-blood link to one a great political struggle (AP)

Jackson looked mildly surprised, even quizzical, when I explained that we would perch on a park bench in the centre of London. But, gracefully, he consented with a smile.

We began with photographs, which, of course, attracted attention. People wanted to shake his hand. He continued to be charming to all, but I had a creeping sense that I should have booked a hotel room.

Nevertheless, I reasoned, the fuss would probably die down once the cameras were put away. I was wrong. People kept coming up, some with deep emotion written across their faces. They were not seeing a famous person, but something else: a figure who had truly shaped their lives.

Then came a man I will never forget.

He was tiny, frail and brown-skinned. He was smiling, filled with excitement, but his eyes were moist with emotion.

He approached tentatively. Could he pay his respects to the Rev Jackson? “OK,” I agreed, thinking the interview was turning into an unmitigated disaster.

They shook hands warmly. He said a few words of thanks and they separated – Jackson with a kind smile, his visitor looking profoundly affected.

I asked this fragile old man what Jackson meant to him. His answer left me humbled.

“I was born in South Africa under apartheid,” he said. “I could not live like that and came to London 50 years ago. I never dreamed I would one day have a chance to meet Jesse Jackson, who was a leader in the fight for civil rights. I remember when he joined the march to Trafalgar Square to call for Nelson Mandela’s freedom. I am so happy to meet him and thank him.”

The man’s name was Daniel Mogorosi, and he was 91 years old.

Jesse Jackson in 2005 with Nelson Mandela, whose freedom he had campaigned for (AP)

At last, the penny dropped. Jackson was not merely a US politician paying a visit; he was a global figure whose significance spanned continents. It did not matter that British people had not lived under the Jim Crow laws of the American South – the fight for freedom that Jackson waged alongside Dr King had been for everyone.

And while the Baptist minister and left-winger might have been out of fashion with the smart set, his stature was eternal and undimmed for a vast number of fellow Britons.

Belatedly, somewhat chastened, I shifted the interview to a nearby hotel, and Jackson – charming to the end – gave me far more time and far better quotes than I truly deserved.

The lesson of this story is simple. Some individuals in political life are routinely undervalued. Diane Abbott, our first Black woman MP, has been one such figure – another left-winger with unfashionable views.

Happily, as Mother of the House, Diane is now receiving the respect she merits. We should cherish such people. As I saw in Leicester Square, the public already do.