I never apologize for the truth. And the truth here is that

Kinky Friedman, with his sharp tongue and fearless humor, once declared: “I never apologize for the truth. And the truth here is that racists come in many different colors.” These words strike with the force of a hammer upon hollow pretenses. They remind us that truth is not always gentle, nor does it bow to the comfort of the crowd. Truth exposes what men would rather hide, and in this case, it strips away the illusion that hatred belongs only to one race or one people. Friedman speaks what is often left unsaid: the poison of racism is not bound to a single skin, but is a shadow that can fall upon every human heart.

The origin of such words lies in the timeless struggle against prejudice. For in every age and in every land, men have sought to divide themselves by color, tribe, or creed. And yet, the history of the world shows that no race is free from the temptation of hatred. Each has, at one time or another, raised walls against the other, clinging to pride while denying the humanity of their neighbor. By saying that racists come “in many different colors,” Friedman breaks the convenient illusion that blame belongs only to one side. He points instead to a universal truth: the disease of hatred is not external, but inward—it is a failing of the soul.

History testifies to this bitter reality. Consider the Rwandan genocide of 1994. Here, the world saw not a division of black against white, but of Hutu against Tutsi, people of the same land, the same complexion, yet torn apart by constructed hatred. The massacres that followed revealed that racism and tribalism are not the property of one race, but the weapon of any group that surrenders to pride and fear. The truth, as Friedman said, is that racists come in many different colors, and humanity ignores this truth at its peril.

Even in America, a nation scarred by slavery and segregation, the story is complex. While white supremacy has left deep wounds, there have also been instances where minority groups have turned against one another, fostering suspicion and division instead of solidarity. This, too, is evidence of the uncomfortable truth: hatred knows no boundaries of skin. To deny this is to lie; to admit it, as Friedman does, is to face the reality that the struggle against racism is not the battle of one group against another, but of all souls against the darkness within.

The heart of Friedman’s saying is courage. “I never apologize for the truth,” he says, and in this we hear the voice of one unafraid to offend for the sake of honesty. Too often, people silence themselves, fearing the anger of those who prefer comforting illusions. But truth, even when it wounds, is the only foundation upon which healing can be built. To hide from the reality that hatred is universal is to remain enslaved by it. To face it openly is to begin the work of uprooting it, wherever it appears.

The lesson for us, then, is to turn our eyes inward before pointing them outward. It is easy to condemn racism in others; it is far harder to search our own hearts for prejudice, bitterness, or pride. If racists truly come in “many different colors,” then vigilance must be constant, for none of us is immune to the temptation of fear and hatred. The true warrior against racism is not the one who condemns others most loudly, but the one who disciplines his own soul and teaches others to do the same.

Practically, this means walking with both honesty and humility. Speak the truth, even when it makes others uncomfortable, but speak it not with malice, rather with the desire to heal. Confront prejudice wherever you find it—whether in your community, in your family, or in yourself. Build bridges between peoples, not by denying differences, but by acknowledging our shared vulnerability to hatred and our shared potential for compassion. In this way, the truth that Friedman proclaimed becomes not a weapon of division, but a call to unity.

Thus, his words endure: racism wears many faces, and the truth must not be silenced. Better to offend with honesty than to flatter with lies. Better to face the universal shadow than to pretend it belongs only to another. For in the end, the battle against hatred is not theirs or ours—it is the battle of all humanity, a battle fought not in skin, but in the heart. Let us then, like Friedman, refuse to apologize for the truth, and let us walk in it with courage and resolve.