Is it time to forgive Sundiata Acoli, the man who killed a NJ state trooper in 1973? | Kelly

Nearly half a century ago, Sundiata Acoli killed a cop.

Today, at 85, Acoli is still behind bars, serving a life sentence that may take his life. He reportedly suffers from the early stages of dementia and the effects of his bout with COVID-19.

Is it time to set him free?

The New Jersey Supreme Court is scheduled on Monday to examine that question. But beyond the legal complexities and brutal facts of Acoli’s crime, a significant non-legal issue frames this case.

Can we ever forgive this man for what he did?

Should we?

To understand the significance of those questions and why they pose such an emotional challenge especially for police officers, we need to return to the New Jersey Turnpike in the early morning hours of May 2, 1973.

Confrontation on the turnpike

Richard Nixon’s presidency was sinking under the weight of the Watergate scandal. American soldiers still bled in the jungles of Vietnam. Two days later, workers would rivet the final beam to the top of the Sears Tower in Chicago, then the world’s tallest building. Three days later, Secretariat would win the Kentucky Derby.

Across America, a strange brand of domestic terrorism was starting to creep into the daily crime blotter.

It was 12:45 a.m. Acoli, then known as Clark Edward Squire, the former finance minister of the Harlem chapter of the Black Panther Party and now a member of the much more violent Black Liberation Army was behind the wheel of a white, two-door Pontiac LeMans with Vermont license plates.

The BLA, which had promised to “take up arms for the liberation and self-determination of Black people in the United States,” had already been linked to the murders of four police officers in New York City, as well as the killings of officers in Atlanta and San Francisco. In all, the BLA would play a role in 70 acts of violence, including the 1981 murder of a guard and two police officers during a robbery of a Brinks armored truck in Nyack, New York.

Two BLA compatriots rode with Acoli on the Turnpike that night. Joanne Chesimard, who went by the name Assata Shakur, was in the passenger seat. James Costen, known as Zayd Malik Shakur, sat in the back.

All three carried guns.

Just south of the Turnpike exit for New Brunswick and the main campus of Rutgers University — Exit 9 — New Jersey State Trooper James Harper flipped on his lights and ordered Acoli to pull over. Harper would later testify that Acoli was speeding and that his Pontiac LeMans had a broken tail light. Minutes later, another trooper, Werner Foerster, pulled over as Harper’s backup.

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What happened next is one of the most talked-about crimes in New Jersey history. For years, New Jersey State Police recruits have been shown photos from the crime scene during their training — as a way of demonstrating what could happen to them.

As Harper approached Acoli on the driver’s side, Foerster reached into the Pontiac on the other side and pulled out a semi-automatic pistol. Harper later testified that Foerster held up the gun and called out: “Look what I found.”

They were Foerster’s last words.

Chesimard-Shakur pulled a gun. She shot and wounded Harper with a bullet to his shoulder. Harper fired back, wounding Chesimard-Shakur. Costen-Shakur was also wounded in the back seat, possibly with shots from Harper or Foerster — or both of them.

Acoli, also wounded from shots by the troopers, shot Foerster in the stomach. Foerster slumped to the pavement. Harper took cover. Acoli and Chesimard-Shakur got out of the LeMans and approached Foerster. Acoli’s gun jammed when he tried to shoot Foerster again. Acoli then grabbed Foerster’s gun and shot the trooper in the head, killing him instantly.

Harper tried to summon help, running up the hill to a Turnpike Authority office that overlooked the highway and the bloody scene.

Acoli and Chesimard-Shakur jumped into the Pontiac and sped away. Both were soon caught after dumping the body of Costen-Shakur on the side of the Turnpike.

Acoli and Chesimard-Shakur would later be convicted of murder and each sentenced to life in prison.

The aftermath

In 1979, a team of BLA members helped Chesimard-Shakur escape from the state women’s prison in Clinton. After several years in hiding, she made her way to Cuba where she was welcomed by Fidel Castro as a revolutionary. She still lives in Cuba, a fixture of the FBI’s list of most wanted terrorists, with a $2 million bounty for her capture.

In 2015, this columnist, on assignment in Havana, tracked down the home where Chesimard-Shakur lived. She was not there. Friends told me she was in hiding, fearful that she would be caught. I did find another BLA fugitive, Cheri Dalton, who drove a getaway car at the Brinks robbery in Nanuet. Dalton, who has since died, said she talked often by phone with Chesimard-Shakur. Their favorite subject: Their grandchildren.

After Chesimard-Shakur’s prison escape, Acoli was transferred from New Jersey to a series of federal prisons. He is currently jailed at a medium security federal prison in Cumberland, Maryland.

His friends, who now include civil rights attorneys, clergy and even members of several Black police groups, say he has been punished enough and it’s time to set him free.

The Rev. Lukata Mjumbe, a Presbyterian pastor from Princeton and one of Acoli’s most ardent supporters, has fasted on a liquid diet since late November to draw attention to the case.

Appearing Thursday in a Zoom press conference to draw attention to Monday's state Supreme Court hearing, Mjumbe said that Acoli “has always” felt a “deep sense of remorse” for his role in Foerster’s murder. Also speaking at the press conference, Rabbi Arnold Gluck of Temple Beth-El in Hillsborough, New Jersey, insisted that Acoli is “not the not the same person who was involved in the tragic death of Werner Foerster.”

Acoli “has repented for his sins and he has served his time,” Gluck said. “He’s paid his debt to society.”

When is it time to forgive?

But that’s just the point for which there is no agreement: When is Acoli's debt to society fully paid? Perhaps more importantly: How do we measure that debt?

Acoli's sentence stipulated that he was eligible for parole after serving 25 years. So far, he has been deemed a model prisoner. But he has been denied parole four times.

In 2014, a state appellate panel overruled the parole board, and ordered Acoli to be released. The New Jersey attorney general pushed back, along with the parole board, claiming Acoli “lacked insight into his criminal behavior, denied key aspects of his crimes and minimized his criminal conduct and anti-social behavior.” Maybe so. But a prison psychologist previously testified that Acoli told him he felt deeply sorry for murdering Foerster.

So where is the truth?

In 2019, a new appellate panel ruled that Acoli should stay longer in prison.

Now Acoli’s health is failing. Dementia is reportedly taking hold of his brain. Given his diminished cognitive abilities, is it even possible for Acoli to express sincere remorse? And if he did, would anyone believe him? Remorse by prisoners is a game, played largely to win parole. Prison reform experts knows this. So do prison officials.

Meanwhile, Acoli's battle with COVID-19 in 2020 has left him weak. Is it morally right to keep a man with such sickness locked behind bars, especially when New Jersey has released scores of inmates with COVID-19? And if we keep Acoli in prison, what sort of punishment is that anyway?

What Acoli did 48 years ago was surely horrible — a cold-blooded murder of a state trooper who was wounded and helpless. There's no denying this. Furthermore, Acoli's affiliation with the terrorist BLA is also horrendous.

We should never forget what Acoli did. But it's time to find a way to forgive him.

Mike Kelly is an award-winning columnist for NorthJersey.com. To get unlimited access to his insightful thoughts on how we live life in New Jersey, please subscribe or activate your digital account today.

Email: kellym@northjersey.com

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This article originally appeared on NorthJersey.com: Sundiata Acoli: Is it time to forgive NJ trooper's killer?