Not my enemy

“I can’t believe what you say because I see what you do.”  James Baldwin

 

No one will ever agree on controversial issues or people. Recently, someone reappeared in my life after a period of dormancy. Assata Olugbala Shakur (also known as JoAnne Deborah Byron and JoAnne Chesimard), an African-American woman, was convicted of the murder of a New Jersey State Trooper, Werner Foerster, on the New Jersey Turnpike in 1973. As a retired New Jersey State Trooper (NJSP), I am conflicted about why I have allowed her to occupy space in my mind. She allegedly killed a state trooper, and according to the law, she should have spent the rest of her life in prison. However, I wasn’t entirely convinced that she was guilty. 

Growing up as a young Black man in Newark, New Jersey's inner city, I heard a lot about our struggles to survive in an oppressive, white, male-dominated system. I vaguely remember the 1967 riots in Newark, but later I researched the NJSP’s role in trying to suppress the unrest, and my findings were unfavorable to them. They, along with the National Guard and the Newark Police Department, were accused of killing approximately 26 residents. However, I knew none of this before joining the outfit in 1985. 

In the academy, I’m pretty sure they mentioned Assata Shakur’s (Assata) name and why she was considered persona non grata to them. Still, it didn’t really stick with me because I was focused on surviving and graduating. Not to sound insensitive, but Trooper Foerster’s death happened twelve years before I joined, and more importantly, I didn’t know him. I understood that he had been a state trooper like me, with one clear difference: he was white, and I was Black. I know we didn’t come from the same background, and our experiences within the organization weren’t the same. I respected Trooper Foerster’s service and am saddened that he died in the line of duty, but many other state troopers have also made a similar sacrifice. The main issue for the NJSP was that Assata Shakur had allegedly killed him. 

Having not thoroughly researched the case, I often wondered if the story they told us was accurate. Over the years, I heard whispers that her account differed significantly from the version taught to every state trooper. I needed to do my due diligence, so I bought her book, Assata: An Autobiography. Although it was published in 1987, I didn’t become aware of it and didn’t get to read it until many years later. I also bought her audiobook, and I listened to it when it became available in that format in 1997.  

When I first read her book, it resonated with me because, even though she was seventeen years older than I was, I related to many of her experiences growing up—except for her involvement with Black nationalist ideology. I didn’t connect to that part of her story until I read Alex Haley’s book, “The Autobiography of Malcolm X,” while attending Essex County College. The book sparked an anger within me that I hadn’t known existed. The vicarious frustration with white people and predominantly white police officers was eased by an Italian English professor who shared with me the writings of several non-Black authors, giving me a healthy mix of racial perspectives. This awakening came at the right time in my career, allowing me to approach my job with a non-prejudicial outlook. 

Assata was born in 1947 in Jamaica, Queens, New York City. She has roots in North Carolina, just like my mother, who was born and raised there, and she also faced racial segregation and discrimination. It was clear that Assata supported Black people, primarily due to the struggles we’ve endured living in the United States. The more I learned, the more conflicted I felt. Who should I pledge allegiance to — a woman who could have been my much older sister, who championed the cause for Black people, or an organization with a history of discrimination and racial profiling? The uniform I wore made me feel proud because of the respect it earned. Still, whispers of being a sellout floated in the back of my mind. 

Over the years, whenever I was with my colleagues and her name was mentioned, I would sit back and watch the venom they spat. Most of them didn’t know Tpr. Foerster personally. I learned about him from our academy training. The brainwashing happened automatically, and I believed they hadn’t inquired about the details of that tragic day. Over time, political pressure increased, and the reward for her return grew higher. In 1997, the FBI became involved and issued a Federal Unlawful Flight to Avoid Confinement warrant to help the NJSP bring her in. But where was she hiding? Now is the time to step back and explain how we reached this point. 

In the late 1960s, Assata joined the Black Panther Party, a revolutionary socialist group that fought for Black empowerment, self-defense against police brutality, and community programs. For many Black people, this was vital for our survival in a society that wasn’t eager to grant us civil rights. The power to label individuals as threats by those in authority should never lead us to accept things without careful examination. In short, their enemies might not be our enemies.

On May 2, 1973, Assata (25) and two of her companions, members of the Black Liberation Army (BLA), were stopped in their 1965 Pontiac LeMans by the NJSP on the New Jersey Turnpike for a broken taillight and a damaged lens cover. This minor traffic violation is often used as a pretext to stop a vehicle for other reasons. Before the stop, Assata was being sought for several felonies she was suspected of committing. Reports about what happened afterward vary greatly. However, it’s clear that Tpr. Foerster (35) was shot and killed, and Tpr. James Harper was wounded. That’s where the NJSP wanted the story to end and revenge to begin. Yes, Assata was shot in the back with her hands up; her accomplice Zayd Malik Shakur (a Navy veteran, 25) was killed, and her other accomplice Squire Acoli (35) survived. (Note: Acoli held a degree in mathematics and was a computer analyst for NASA before getting involved in the civil rights movement.) When asked about what happened at the scene, Assata said Tpr. Harper started shooting, and afterward, it was a “prolonged version of hell.” According to the NJSP, “The identity of Foerster’s actual executioner has never been established. However, evidence found at the scene has established that any one of the three could have pulled the trigger, causing the fatal shots.” Hospital records confirm that Assata had been shot in both arms, one being temporarily paralyzed, and couldn’t have fired any weapon. Ballistic evidence showed no fingerprints from Assata on any weapon and no evidence that she fired a gun. What was never discussed was that Tpr. Harper fabricated his grand jury testimony. He admitted never seeing Assata with a weapon or in the act of shooting. Still, I don’t recall the latter being emphasized during my time in the state police academy. 

Looking back, I believe they thought Black state troopers were a uniform group and expected us to forget our backgrounds and adopt the mindset of “we are all blue.” Some of us come from the suburbs and rural areas and may not have experienced police brutality. However, many of us originate from the inner city and dislike the police for various reasons, with police brutality being a major one. We grew up listening to the California-based Hip-Hop group NWA’s “Fuck the Police” song and could recite it word for word. Our growing anti-police feelings were shaped by reading books, talking with elders, and personal experiences. We observed what the criminal justice system did to the innocent Central Park 5 juveniles accused of raping a jogger in Central Park in 1989, and the full-page newspaper ad placed by Donald Trump calling for their execution. Note: In 2017, President Trump called for Cuba to return Assata, whom he referred to as a “cop killer.” We realized that any of us could have been falsely accused of a similar crime.

Additionally, several years after the killing of Tpr. Foerster, Mumia Abu-Jamal, a former Black Panther member and journalist, was convicted of killing Philadelphia Police Officer Daniel Faulkner. The media frenzy surrounding this controversial police killing again highlighted whether a Black person could ever truly get justice in the United States. At a minimum, the NJSP should have provided us with counseling to help us heal properly. 

When we were allowed to join the state police, they discriminated against us and did everything they could to stop many of us from moving forward. Ancestry and tradition make me question whether I should trust her version of the shooting or an organization with a history of excluding people like me.

After her arrest, Assata was taken to the hospital and later underwent surgery to address her serious injuries. She claimed that police would “beat me, choking me, doing everything that they could possibly do” when she was left alone—this kind of response after Tpr. Foerster’s killing did not surprise me, because there was no doubt that the state troopers were mentally suffering and furious.  

In 1977, Assata was tried and convicted of murdering Tpr. Foerster, along with other charges, and received a life sentence. On November 2, 1979, while serving her time at the Clinton Correctional Facility for Women, she escaped with help from BLA members and went underground. Later, the NJSP claimed that a group called the “Collective,” which included the BLA, the Republic of New Afrika, the May 19^th Coalition, and the Weather Underground, randomly picked Assata’s name from a list to break her out of prison. It should be noted that the FBI had either tried to infiltrate or had already infiltrated many Black groups, which they accused of being threats. Many of our leaders, such as Fred Hampton, Malcolm X, Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and Angela Davis, were targeted by the FBI. This was done through their notorious and illegal COINTELPRO program started by FBI Director J. Edgar Hoover to “expose, disrupt, misdirect, discredit, or otherwise neutralize” these groups, movements, and leaders. The NJSP operated its own version of this program out of its Central Security Unit. I am saddened to say that I had been used as a tool to spy on Black activists like Kwame Toure, Dr. Khalid Muhammed, Rev. Jesse Jackson, and Rev. Al Sharpton, whom the NJSP considered threats. I also infiltrated Black gatherings that my supervisors thought could be disruptive, to report on the activities. 

After her escape, Assata was taken to a safe house in East Orange, New Jersey, then moved to another in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, until she surfaced in Cuba in 1984, where she was granted political asylum by then-President Fidel Castro and lived in exile.

The NJSP remained vigilant, investigating every lead to build a case for her return and fulfill the remainder of her prison sentence. In 1997, the NJSP and the FBI collaborated on a joint investigation, assigning a detective to work out of the FBI’s Newark Office. All efforts were unsuccessful because, on September 25, 2025, at the age of 78, Assata joined the ancestors as a free woman in Cuba. Her co-defendant, Sundiata Acoli, who suffers from the onset of dementia, was granted parole after being sentenced to life in prison in 1974.

Shortly after her death, social media was flooded with both supportive and opposing opinions about her. Law enforcement showed little sympathy. FBI Director Kash Patel said, “Joanne Chesimard didn’t ‘fight for justice.’ She murdered New Jersey State Trooper Werner Foerster in cold blood, then fled to Cuba to escape justice. The FBI has always called her what she was: a terrorist. Mourning her is disrespecting the badge and blood of every cop who has died in service.” Born in 1980, Director Patel likely had limited knowledge of Assata, but he held a strong opinion about her involvement. His hypocrisy was apparent because he had said nothing about the January 6^th insurrection, where police officers were hurt and killed while defending the U.S. Capitol. Meanwhile, just days after her passing, recording artist Donna Theresa released her single, “No Tears for the System,” in her honor. This shows that the issue is deeply rooted in race, and no matter where people stand, each side sticks to its own view.

I can’t speak to anyone’s innocence. Still, if America didn’t have a capitalist, imperialist, racist, violent, and discriminatory history, maybe there wouldn’t be a need for Black activist groups, and Tpr. Forester might have lived a longer life. However, something Assata wrote will always stay with me: “If you are deaf, dumb, and blind to what’s happening in the world, you’re under no obligation to do anything. But if you know what’s happening and you don’t do anything but sit on your ass, then you’re nothing but a punk.” I will hold off on judging anyone and send my sympathies to those who have passed since the 1973 killing, and may they all rest in eternal peace. Lastly, while we will probably never know what truly happened, Malcolm X said it best, “I’m for truth, no matter who tells it. I’m for justice, no matter who it’s for or against. I’m a human being first and foremost, and as such I’m for whoever and whatever benefits humanity as a whole.”