The most recent reversal in the attempt to free death row inmate Mumuia Abu-Jamal has generated virtually no news coverage. This raises the question of the risks, for radicals, of focusing support on one figure as a way to connect to a much larger population many radicals have long ignored. PNS commentator Earl Ofari Hutchinson is the author of "The Assassination of the Black Male Image" and "The Crisis in Black and Black."

It was surprising that the public announcement that the Pennsylvania Supreme Court had denied Mumia Abu-Jamal's appeal for a new trial received almost no mention in the national media.

Almost from the moment that Jamal was convicted of the murder of Philadelphia police officer Daniel Faulkner in 1981, and dumped on death row, his credentials as a former Black Panther Party leader, writer, and radio commentator virtually assured that many liberals and radicals would declare him a political prisoner and turn his case into a cause celebre.

It had all the right ingredients -- a vengeful judge, an all-white jury that convicted him, public hysteria over the murder of a police officer, and a relentless campaign by local politicians, much of the press and the Police Protective League to nail an unreconstructed black militant.

But the Jamal case is not an ideal example of good versus evil. On the surface the physical evidence against him seems pretty compelling. Five shots were fired from his gun. His fingerprints were on it. He was wounded by gunfire. Several eyewitnesses swore that he was the triggerman.

The defense countered that testimony was perjured, evidence of his innocence suppressed, and the judge and jury were guilty of blatant racial bias. This has been more than enough to convince many that the charges against him were trumped up.

The legal battle, and Jamal's political activism, however, are not the only reasons he has become a major protest symbol. During the years he has languished on death row, a rejuvenated right wing has gutted social programs, assaulted affirmative action, attacked civil liberties, escalated weapons spending, and wildly expanded the prison-industrial complex in America.

This has resulted in an astronomical leap in African-American men behind bars, with a disproportionate number of them awaiting execution. The death penalty riddled with blatant class and racial bias has become a hammer against the poor and minorities such as Jamal. In Pennsylvania 61 percent of those sitting on death row are African-Americans yet they make up only nine percent of the state's population. Meanwhile during these years many radicals talked mostly to themselves about pet "radical" issues such as struggles in Cuba and South Africa, but developed no viable strategies and programs to deal with the struggles of the poor, working people and minorities in America. With the left sliding dangerously close to being permanently consigned to the outer fringes of American politics, many radicals eagerly latched onto the Jamal case in a desperate attempt to reinvigorate the radical movement.

Turning prisoners such as Jamal into movement super heroes may grab occasional headlines, momentarily attract the sympathy of big name entertainers and celebrities, and raise large amounts of money. But it also runs the risk of reducing the struggle for prisoner justice to the plight of an individual.

This is what happened in the campaigns to free militant activists such as Huey Newton, Angela Davis, Bobby Seale, Leonard Peltier, Assata Shakur, and Geronimo Pratt. They became radical icons but this did not spark any sustained media probe or public action on the questions of why far more blacks and Latinos are in state and federal prisons, receive the death penalty in greater numbers, and are more likely to be arrested and handed longer sentences for drug offenses than whites.

One wonders: if the Pennsylvania high court had granted Jamal a new trial, would the thousands of persons that supported him continue to embrace prisoner rights issues, or would they have folded up their tents and gone home convinced that the battle had been won?

Or suppose a federal court upholds the state's decision and refuses to grant Jamal a new trial, and newly re-elected Republican governor Tom Ridge keeps his promise to sign another death warrant for him in the next thirty days. Will this deepen cynicism and sense of hopelessness among Jamal supporters that nothing can be done to change the system?

While the battle for Justice for Jamal rightly called attention to the issue of political victimization, it didn't solve the dilemma radicals face of what and how they can connect with millions of poor and minorities in the fight against discrimination, poverty and injustice. Most of whose names will never appear on any movement placards.