On May 13, 1985, a quiet residential neighborhood in West Philadelphia turned into a war zone. In a stunning display of state-sanctioned force, the Philadelphia Police Department dropped a military-grade bomb from a helicopter onto the roof of a rowhouse occupied by members of MOVE, a radical Black liberation group. The resulting explosion ignited a firestorm that leveled 61 homes, killing 11 people, including five children. As flames engulfed the neighborhood, police stood by, allowing the fire to spread unchecked. The unprecedented use of aerial bombing by a U.S. city against its own citizens remains a haunting symbol of state violence and racial injustice.

The MOVE bombing stands as an unparalleled event in U.S. history—when the government deployed military force against its own citizens. It marked a chilling escalation of state violence in response to a Black liberation group, underscoring the deep racial tensions that shaped the era. The incident is not just an isolated tragedy; it reflects broader patterns of systemic racism, aggressive policing, and urban displacement that disproportionately affected Black communities. Set against the backdrop of 1980s America, the MOVE bombing reveals the entrenched struggles over race, power, and control in urban spaces, where state authority often clashed violently with marginalized groups.

This article will examine the 1985 MOVE bombing, situating it within the broader context of America’s racial history, the escalation of state violence, and the political climate of the 1980s. By exploring the motives behind the bombing and the role of systemic racism, it will reveal the deep fractures between law enforcement and Black communities. Additionally, the article will highlight the human toll of the tragedy—both in lives lost and the destruction of homes—while tracing its enduring impact on Philadelphia’s Black neighborhoods and the collective memory of state oppression in the U.S.

Historical Background of MOVE

Origins of MOVE

Founded in the early 1970s by John Africa, MOVE was a radical, communal organization that blended Black liberation ideology with environmental activism and anti-establishment principles. Rooted in a deep mistrust of government and mainstream society, MOVE advocated for a return to a natural lifestyle, rejecting modern technology and societal norms. John Africa, a charismatic leader, emphasized self-sufficiency, animal rights, and opposition to systemic oppression, particularly police brutality. MOVE’s unconventional lifestyle and confrontational stance toward authorities quickly drew attention, leading to a series of escalating conflicts with Philadelphia officials.

MOVE was a communal organization that championed Black liberation, environmentalism, and resistance to police violence. Living collectively and rejecting mainstream societal norms, MOVE members sought to live in harmony with nature, opposing modern industrial practices and advocating for animal rights. Their radical stance against institutional racism and police brutality made them a target of law enforcement, as they openly criticized and resisted state authority. MOVE’s mission intertwined the fight for racial justice with broader anti-establishment views, framing their activism as a challenge to the systemic oppression of Black communities and the exploitation of the environment.

MOVE’s beliefs centered on communal living, radical activism, and a rejection of mainstream societal values. Guided by their leader, John Africa, they embraced a lifestyle that prioritized living in harmony with nature, rejecting technology, and opposing modern industrial practices. MOVE members operated as a close-knit community, sharing resources and responsibilities while advocating for animal rights, environmentalism, and Black liberation. Their activism was confrontational, aimed at exposing and resisting police brutality and systemic racism, positioning them as both a spiritual and political movement that sought to dismantle oppressive structures.

Previous Conflicts with the City of Philadelphia

In 1978, a violent standoff erupted between MOVE and Philadelphia police in Powelton Village. The conflict, stemming from ongoing tensions over MOVE’s radical activism and defiance of authorities, escalated into a gunfight. During the confrontation, a police officer was killed, leading to the arrest and conviction of nine MOVE members, later known as the “MOVE 9.” Despite MOVE’s claims of innocence, the group faced long prison sentences, fueling their grievances against the police and government, and marking a significant turning point in their strained relationship with the city.

The tension between MOVE and Philadelphia authorities was deeply rooted in racial and ideological conflicts. MOVE’s radical rejection of societal norms, outspoken criticism of police brutality, and advocacy for Black liberation directly challenged the city’s predominantly white power structure. Authorities viewed MOVE as a disruptive and dangerous group, while MOVE saw the police as enforcers of systemic racism and oppression. This mutual hostility, amplified by the broader racial tensions of the time, led to repeated confrontations, culminating in escalating violence and harsh crackdowns on the group by law enforcement.

The Lead-Up to the 1985 Bombing

MOVE’s Relocation to Osage Avenue

In 1981, MOVE relocated to a rowhouse at 6221 Osage Avenue in West Philadelphia, a predominantly Black working-class neighborhood. The group, still led by John Africa, maintained their communal lifestyle and outspoken activism, often clashing with neighbors and city officials. Their presence became a source of tension due to loud public addresses, fortified barricades, and unsanitary living conditions that drew complaints from residents. Over time, the tensions escalated as neighbors called for city intervention, citing health and safety concerns. MOVE’s occupation of the house on Osage Avenue marked the group’s growing defiance and the increasing pressure from authorities to remove them, setting the stage for the catastrophic events of May 1985.

By the early 1980s, MOVE’s presence at 6221 Osage Avenue had drawn numerous complaints from their West Philadelphia neighbors. Residents cited frequent loudspeaker broadcasts promoting MOVE’s anti-government and anti-police messages, as well as the group’s barricading of the house and neglect of basic sanitation. These grievances led to growing frustration among the community, who petitioned city officials for action. In response, Philadelphia police increased surveillance of MOVE, labeling the group as a public nuisance and potential threat. The tension between MOVE and the neighborhood, compounded by rising police scrutiny, escalated steadily from 1981 to 1985, creating an increasingly volatile situation as city leaders sought a decisive resolution to the standoff.

Mayor Wilson Goode’s Administration

In 1984, Wilson Goode became the first Black mayor of Philadelphia, a milestone that carried significant racial and political expectations. Goode’s election was seen as a symbol of progress in a city with a long history of racial tension. Many in the Black community viewed his leadership as an opportunity to address systemic issues like police brutality, poverty, and discrimination. However, Goode faced immense pressure from both sides—while Black residents expected reforms, white constituents and the city’s powerful institutions, including the police, demanded law and order.

As tensions with MOVE escalated, Goode was caught in the middle of a racially charged conflict. His administration was under intense pressure to resolve the MOVE situation, which had become a symbol of lawlessness to many. The racial dynamics of Goode’s position added complexity to his handling of the crisis, as he sought to balance maintaining order while not alienating his base of support within the Black community. This pressure culminated in the controversial decision to approve the police operation that led to the MOVE bombing, a decision that would forever define his legacy.

As tensions escalated between MOVE and the city, Mayor Wilson Goode faced increasing pressure to take decisive action. By 1985, after years of complaints from neighbors and failed negotiations with MOVE, Goode authorized a plan to forcibly evict the group from their fortified rowhouse on Osage Avenue. On May 12, 1985, Goode approved a large-scale police operation led by Philadelphia Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor. The operation involved over 500 officers and was intended to serve arrest warrants on MOVE members for various charges, including illegal possession of firearms and child endangerment.

Goode, believing this would be a swift resolution, greenlit the use of force if necessary, including heavy artillery. His administration coordinated with city officials and law enforcement, laying the groundwork for the May 13 siege. However, the decision to use military-grade tactics, including the eventual dropping of an explosive on the MOVE house, reflected Goode’s prioritization of restoring order over peaceful negotiation. The resulting catastrophe—the bombing, fire, and loss of life—became a controversial chapter in Goode’s tenure, as critics later questioned the extreme measures taken under his watch.

Law Enforcement and Government Strategy

Law enforcement officials in Philadelphia, led by Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor, framed MOVE as a significant threat to public safety, viewing the group’s radical beliefs and fortified house on Osage Avenue as a danger to both the neighborhood and the city at large. MOVE’s confrontational stance, armed presence, and history of violent clashes—most notably the 1978 standoff in Powelton Village—positioned them in the eyes of law enforcement as an armed militant group.

Authorities charged MOVE members with various crimes, including illegal possession of firearms and child endangerment, emphasizing the group’s stockpile of weapons and the involvement of children in their community. MOVE’s defiance of law enforcement, their anti-police rhetoric, and their refusal to comply with city orders to vacate the Osage Avenue home intensified the perception of them as a dangerous, lawless group. In this context, law enforcement escalated their tactics, justifying the use of extreme force as necessary to neutralize what they saw as a domestic threat. This framing was central to the decision to deploy heavily armed police units, including the use of automatic weapons, tear gas, and eventually, a military-grade explosive, in the 1985 siege.

The decision-making process that led to the police operation against MOVE on May 13, 1985, was marked by escalating tensions, political pressure, and a desire for swift resolution. In early May 1985, after years of failed attempts to peacefully resolve the situation with MOVE, Mayor Wilson Goode, Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor, and Fire Commissioner William Richmond, along with other city officials, devised a plan to forcibly evict the group from their Osage Avenue home.

The plan involved executing arrest warrants on MOVE members for charges including illegal weapons possession, child endangerment, and parole violations. The city had already spent years dealing with MOVE’s defiance of court orders and complaints from their neighbors, which added urgency to the operation. Despite warnings from some officials, including City Managing Director Leo Brooks, that the use of heavy artillery and aggressive tactics could lead to significant harm, Goode authorized the plan, entrusting Sambor with the execution of the operation.

The strategy involved clearing the block and using force if necessary, including armored vehicles, water cannons, tear gas, and firearms. By the morning of May 13, police had surrounded the MOVE house. As tensions escalated, Sambor gave the order to deploy an explosive device—a military-grade C-4 bomb—dropped from a state police helicopter onto the roof of the MOVE compound. This decision, intended to destroy a fortified bunker atop the building, ultimately sparked the fire that destroyed 61 homes and killed 11 people. The decision to use such extreme force reflected a combination of frustration, the perceived threat posed by MOVE, and a miscalculation of the potential consequences.

The Events of May 13, 1985

Police Operation Begins

In the early hours of May 13, 1985, the police operation to evict MOVE from their fortified rowhouse at 6221 Osage Avenue began. At around 5:35 a.m., Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor announced over a loudspeaker, “Attention MOVE, this is America. You must come out with your hands up or there will be consequences.” When MOVE refused to surrender, the situation quickly escalated.

The police, armed with automatic rifles, began using high-powered water cannons to try to breach MOVE’s barricaded house. MOVE members responded by firing on the police, and a heavy exchange of gunfire ensued. Officers on the ground and snipers positioned in nearby buildings fired back, with hundreds of rounds being exchanged over several hours.

In response to the continued resistance, police deployed tear gas and used a specialized bulldozer to tear holes in the walls of the MOVE house, but MOVE members, who had fortified the home with bunkers and escape tunnels, remained entrenched. By mid-morning, after hours of failed attempts to subdue MOVE through traditional tactics, city officials and law enforcement began contemplating more extreme measures to bring the standoff to an end. This escalation would lead to the decision to drop an explosive device on the house later in the day, marking a turning point in one of the most infamous instances of police use of force in U.S. history.

As the standoff with MOVE intensified on May 13, 1985, Philadelphia police resorted to increasingly aggressive tactics. After MOVE members ignored the police order to vacate their fortified house at 6221 Osage Avenue, law enforcement initiated the use of tear gas to flush them out. However, the group had prepared for such tactics, sealing off parts of the building and using gas masks, rendering the tear gas ineffective.

In an attempt to force entry, police deployed high-powered water cannons aimed at breaking through the reinforced barricades MOVE had constructed. Despite continuous blasts of water, the fortified structure withstood the assault. Simultaneously, MOVE members inside the house fired on the police with semi-automatic weapons, prompting officers to return fire. Police units, armed with automatic rifles and positioned around the perimeter, engaged in a heavy exchange of gunfire. Snipers were also stationed on rooftops of nearby buildings, adding to the intensity of the confrontation.

For hours, this barrage of gunfire, water cannons, and tear gas failed to subdue MOVE, as they remained entrenched inside their bunker-like home. The unsuccessful attempts to dislodge them set the stage for the catastrophic decision later that day to drop a bomb on the compound, an unprecedented escalation in urban police tactics.

The Bombing

The decision to drop a bomb on the MOVE house was made in the late afternoon of May 13, 1985, after hours of failed attempts to evict the group using tear gas, water cannons, and gunfire. Philadelphia Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor, in consultation with Fire Commissioner William Richmond and other city officials, sought a way to incapacitate MOVE’s fortified bunker atop the rowhouse at 6221 Osage Avenue. The bunker, which was reinforced with steel and designed to withstand police assault, was seen as a key obstacle preventing law enforcement from ending the standoff.

At approximately 5:27 p.m., Sambor authorized the use of a military-grade explosive—a satchel containing C-4 and Tovex, supplied by the Pennsylvania State Police. The bomb was dropped from a state police helicopter piloted by Lt. Frank Powell, who aimed for the bunker on the roof of the MOVE house. The intention was to destroy the bunker and force MOVE members to evacuate, but the impact of the bomb caused a massive explosion that ignited a fire.

Despite the immediate danger, officials, including Richmond and Sambor, made the controversial decision to let the fire burn, hoping it would drive MOVE members out of the building. The fire quickly spread out of control, engulfing not only the MOVE house but 61 neighboring homes as well. By the time it was extinguished, 11 MOVE members, including leader John Africa and five children, were dead, and the neighborhood lay in ruins. The bombing marked an unprecedented use of military-style tactics by U.S. law enforcement against civilians, leaving a lasting legacy of trauma and controversy in Philadelphia and beyond.

The immediate aftermath of the bomb dropped on the MOVE house on May 13, 1985, was catastrophic. Upon impact, the C-4 and Tovex explosive ignited a fire that quickly spread beyond the MOVE compound at 6221 Osage Avenue. Despite the rapid escalation of the blaze, city officials, including Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor and Fire Commissioner William Richmond, made the decision to allow the fire to burn in hopes that it would drive out the entrenched MOVE members. This decision proved disastrous.

The fire spread unchecked across the tightly packed rowhouses, engulfing a total of 61 homes in the predominantly Black, working-class neighborhood of West Philadelphia. Firefighters, who had initially been on standby, were ordered to hold back for nearly an hour. By the time the flames were finally extinguished, much of the neighborhood had been reduced to rubble.

Inside the MOVE house, the fire claimed the lives of 11 people, including MOVE founder John Africa, five children, and six other adult members of the group. Their bodies were later found in the charred remains of the building. The official death toll included children aged seven to thirteen, highlighting the human cost of the city’s actions. In addition to the loss of life, over 250 residents of Osage Avenue were displaced, many losing their homes and belongings in the fire.

The long-term effects of the bombing were profound. The physical destruction of the neighborhood devastated a close-knit community, leaving scars that would last for decades. Efforts to rebuild the homes were fraught with issues, including poor construction and inadequate compensation for displaced residents, leading to ongoing grievances and lawsuits against the city. The MOVE bombing became a symbol of state violence and the extreme measures taken by law enforcement, leaving a lasting impact on Philadelphia and its Black community. The event also raised critical questions about police militarization, the use of force, and the treatment of marginalized communities in America.

Media Coverage at the Time

Media coverage of the MOVE bombing on May 13, 1985, was extensive and immediate, with both local and national outlets closely following the unfolding crisis. In Philadelphia, local news stations such as KYW-TV (CBS affiliate) and WPVI-TV (ABC affiliate) provided live broadcasts of the police operation and the resulting fire, capturing real-time footage of the devastation. These images of flames consuming an entire city block and the sight of a bomb dropped from a police helicopter shocked viewers across the country.

Initially, much of the local media coverage focused on the city’s framing of the operation as a necessary response to a dangerous militant group. Police and city officials, including Mayor Wilson Goode and Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor, emphasized the threat posed by MOVE, portraying the organization as heavily armed and defiant. News reports highlighted the ongoing standoff, the gunfire exchanged between MOVE and police, and the decision to use force as an unfortunate but unavoidable measure.

Nationally, the event was portrayed with a mix of disbelief and horror. Major outlets like The New York Times, The Washington Post, and network news programs such as NBC Nightly News and CBS Evening News covered the bombing as an unprecedented instance of state violence against U.S. citizens. The bombing and the destruction of an entire neighborhood sparked widespread debate over the appropriateness of the police’s actions, with some media outlets questioning the use of military-grade force in a residential area. Journalists across the country condemned the city’s decision to let the fire burn and the loss of innocent lives, especially the children killed in the blaze.

As more details emerged, public opinion shifted, and the media narrative grew increasingly critical of city officials. Investigative reports in outlets like The Philadelphia Inquirer exposed missteps in the planning and execution of the operation, fueling public outrage. The racial dynamics of the bombing—targeting a predominantly Black neighborhood—also became a focal point in media discussions about systemic racism, police brutality, and urban neglect.

In the weeks and months following the bombing, national and local media continued to scrutinize the city’s handling of the situation, turning the MOVE bombing into a national symbol of government overreach, police militarization, and racial injustice. The media’s portrayal of the incident significantly shaped public perception and played a key role in the subsequent legal and political fallout.

Public response and criticism of the city’s actions

The public response to the 1985 MOVE bombing, fueled by extensive media coverage, was swift and sharply divided. Initially, local media in Philadelphia, such as The Philadelphia Inquirer and The Daily News, portrayed the city’s actions as an unfortunate but necessary response to what officials described as a dangerous, militant group. Many local residents, frustrated by years of conflict with MOVE, initially supported the police operation, seeing it as a way to restore peace and safety to their neighborhood. However, as the scale of the destruction became clear—61 homes destroyed and 11 people killed, including five children—public sentiment shifted dramatically.

National media outlets, including The New York Times, The Washington Post, and the three major television networks (ABC, CBS, NBC), framed the bombing with growing alarm and criticism. Journalists expressed disbelief that the city had used a military-grade bomb on a residential area, and they questioned the decision to let the fire burn, which exacerbated the destruction. News anchors such as Tom Brokaw of NBC Nightly News and Dan Rather of CBS Evening News delivered reports emphasizing the unprecedented nature of the city’s actions, sparking widespread condemnation across the country.

Public outcry quickly followed, with many seeing the bombing as emblematic of the government’s willingness to use excessive force against Black communities. Activist groups, civil rights organizations like the NAACP, and local community leaders criticized Mayor Wilson Goode and Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor for their handling of the crisis. The racial dimension of the event became a focal point, as the bombing targeted a predominantly Black neighborhood in West Philadelphia. Critics accused the city of valuing property and public order over Black lives, drawing comparisons to historical instances of state violence against African American communities, such as the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre.

In the aftermath, protests erupted in Philadelphia and other cities, demanding accountability for the deaths and destruction. A public commission, the Philadelphia Special Investigation Commission (often called the MOVE Commission), was formed to investigate the bombing. The Commission’s report, released in 1986, condemned the city’s actions, stating that “dropping a bomb on an occupied row house was unconscionable.” Yet, no criminal charges were filed against city officials, further inflaming public criticism.

The media’s portrayal of the bombing and the subsequent public response turned the MOVE bombing into a national symbol of government overreach, racial injustice, and the dangerous militarization of police forces in American cities. The incident remains a painful chapter in the history of Philadelphia, sparking debates that continue to resonate in discussions of police violence and racial inequality in the United States.

Aftermath and Legal Consequences

Immediate Aftermath

The fire that erupted after the bomb was dropped on the MOVE house at 6221 Osage Avenue on May 13, 1985, quickly spread beyond the initial target. Within minutes, the flames leaped from the MOVE compound to adjacent rowhouses, engulfing the entire block. Due to the tightly packed nature of the homes in this predominantly Black working-class neighborhood, the fire spread uncontrollably, destroying a total of 61 homes on Osage Avenue and nearby Pine Street.

Philadelphia’s decision to let the fire burn for nearly an hour before attempting to extinguish it exacerbated the devastation. Fire Commissioner William Richmond and Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor, in coordination with Mayor Wilson Goode, believed that allowing the fire to continue would flush out the remaining MOVE members. This decision proved disastrous, as firefighters were held back from addressing the blaze in time to prevent widespread destruction.

The fire left over 250 residents homeless, many of whom lost all their possessions. Families who had lived in the neighborhood for decades were suddenly displaced, forced to seek temporary shelter while city officials scrambled to contain the fallout. The total property damage was estimated at over $10 million, as entire blocks of homes were reduced to rubble. Residents of Osage Avenue and Pine Street faced years of turmoil and legal battles as they sought compensation and rebuilding efforts from the city.

The reconstruction process was fraught with problems. Many of the homes rebuilt by contractors hired by the city were poorly constructed, with reports of faulty plumbing, electrical issues, and structural instability. This only added to the anger and frustration of the displaced residents, who filed multiple lawsuits against the city. Despite promises of compensation, many homeowners felt abandoned by the government, and the neighborhood never fully recovered from the devastation.

The fire’s spread and the displacement of hundreds of residents became a symbol of the far-reaching consequences of the city’s actions, highlighting the human toll of the MOVE bombing. The destruction of Osage Avenue remains a painful legacy of the incident, as displaced families struggled to rebuild their lives in the aftermath of the city’s decision to prioritize force over the safety and well-being of its citizens.

In the immediate aftermath of the MOVE bombing on May 13, 1985, the city of Philadelphia, led by Mayor Wilson Goode, defended its actions as a necessary response to what it portrayed as an escalating public safety threat posed by the MOVE organization. Mayor Goode, along with Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor and Fire Commissioner William Richmond, justified the use of extreme force, including the decision to drop a bomb, by emphasizing MOVE’s history of violent confrontations, particularly the 1978 standoff that resulted in the death of a police officer, and their refusal to surrender during the siege.

City officials pointed to MOVE’s stockpiling of weapons and the heavily fortified bunker atop their rowhouse at 6221 Osage Avenue as evidence that conventional methods of law enforcement would not have succeeded in evicting the group peacefully. They argued that MOVE’s defiance of repeated court orders, including arrest warrants for various members on charges like illegal weapons possession and child endangerment, left them no choice but to escalate their tactics. Commissioner Sambor claimed that the bomb was intended to destroy the rooftop bunker, which was seen as MOVE’s stronghold, and not to harm the occupants or surrounding area.

Fire Commissioner Richmond and other city officials defended the decision to let the fire burn, contending that it was a tactical move aimed at forcing MOVE members out of the house. They believed that containing the fire too early would have allowed MOVE to continue their armed resistance from the fortified house, prolonging the standoff.

Mayor Goode publicly expressed regret for the loss of life but maintained that the operation’s goal was to restore order in a neighborhood that had long suffered from MOVE’s disruptive presence. In a televised address shortly after the bombing, Goode said, “I am ultimately responsible for what happens, but I didn’t do anything wrong.” He framed the operation as a difficult but necessary decision to protect the broader public from MOVE, which he and city officials described as a terrorist group.

Despite these justifications, the city’s actions were met with widespread criticism both locally and nationally, with many questioning the proportionality of the response and the use of military-grade force against a residential neighborhood. In the years that followed, Goode’s administration faced ongoing scrutiny, particularly as the destruction of 61 homes and the deaths of 11 MOVE members, including five children, became a symbol of state overreach. While city officials attempted to defend the operation on grounds of public safety, public opinion largely condemned the actions as excessive and racially motivated.

Legal Inquiries and Public Backlash

In the wake of the MOVE bombing, public outrage and demands for accountability led to multiple investigations and the formation of official commissions to examine the city’s actions. The most notable of these was the Philadelphia Special Investigation Commission, commonly referred to as the MOVE Commission, which was established in November 1985 by Mayor Wilson Goode in response to mounting criticism from both the public and the media.

The MOVE Commission was tasked with conducting an independent investigation into the events leading up to and following the bombing, with a focus on determining accountability for the loss of life, the destruction of 61 homes, and the displacement of over 250 residents. Chaired by William H. Brown III, a prominent attorney and former chairman of the U.S. Equal Employment Opportunity Commission (EEOC), the Commission held extensive public hearings throughout 1985 and 1986, interviewing key figures involved in the operation, including Mayor Goode, Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor, and Fire Commissioner William Richmond.

During the hearings, evidence emerged that the city’s decision-making process was deeply flawed. Testimony revealed that city officials had underestimated the potential consequences of dropping a bomb in a densely populated neighborhood and had failed to prepare adequately for the resulting fire. The Commission also scrutinized the city’s decision to hold back firefighters, leading to the uncontrolled spread of the fire.

In March 1986, the MOVE Commission issued a scathing 500-page report that condemned the city’s handling of the situation. The report called the decision to drop a bomb on a residential area “reckless” and “unconscionable.” It further criticized Police Commissioner Sambor and Fire Commissioner Richmond for their roles in authorizing and executing the operation. The Commission found that Mayor Goode bore ultimate responsibility as the city’s leader but stopped short of recommending criminal charges against him or other officials.

Despite the Commission’s findings, no criminal charges were brought against any city officials involved in the bombing. The grand jury, convened to investigate whether any crimes had been committed, ultimately declined to indict anyone, arguing that the city’s actions, while disastrous, were not criminally negligent. This lack of legal accountability further inflamed public backlash, with many accusing the justice system of failing to hold the city accountable for the deaths of 11 MOVE members, including five children.

In addition to the MOVE Commission, numerous lawsuits were filed by residents of Osage Avenue and MOVE members’ relatives, seeking compensation for the destruction of property and loss of life. In 1996, after years of legal battles, the city of Philadelphia settled with MOVE survivor Ramona Africa for $1.5 million and agreed to pay $12.83 million to residents of Osage Avenue for the botched reconstruction of their homes.

Despite the legal settlements and public inquiries, the MOVE bombing remains a haunting chapter in Philadelphia’s history, with lasting questions about accountability, state violence, and the racial dynamics that contributed to the tragedy.

Despite the devastating loss of life and property during the 1985 MOVE bombing, no criminal charges were ever brought against any city officials or police involved in the operation. After the bombing, a grand jury was convened to investigate potential criminal liability, particularly focusing on the decisions made by Mayor Wilson Goode, Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor, and Fire Commissioner William Richmond. The grand jury examined whether the actions leading to the deaths of 11 MOVE members, including five children, and the destruction of 61 homes constituted criminal negligence or misconduct.

The grand jury ultimately declined to file any indictments, concluding that while the actions of city officials were deeply flawed, they did not rise to the level of criminal wrongdoing. The jury found that the city’s use of force, including the decision to drop a bomb, was part of an operation aimed at addressing a perceived public safety threat posed by MOVE, and that the catastrophic outcome was the result of misjudgment rather than criminal intent.

The MOVE Commission, formed to independently investigate the incident, echoed this sentiment in its March 1986 report, stating that while the decision to drop a bomb on a residential neighborhood was “reckless” and “unconscionable,” it did not recommend criminal charges against Mayor Goode, Sambor, or Richmond. The Commission attributed the disaster to a series of poor decisions but fell short of labeling them as criminal acts.

This lack of criminal accountability sparked widespread outrage, particularly within Philadelphia’s Black community and civil rights organizations. Many saw the absence of charges as a failure of the justice system to hold those in power responsible for state-sanctioned violence. Critics argued that the racial dynamics of the bombing—targeting a Black neighborhood—and the excessive use of force warranted criminal charges, especially given the loss of innocent lives.

In the years that followed, several civil lawsuits were filed by residents of Osage Avenue and survivors of the bombing, including Ramona Africa, the sole adult survivor of the blaze. While these lawsuits resulted in financial settlements, with the city of Philadelphia agreeing to pay $1.5 million to Africa and $12.83 million to displaced residents for the failed reconstruction of their homes, the absence of criminal prosecutions left a deep sense of injustice for many affected by the bombing.

The failure to bring criminal charges remains a contentious and painful aspect of the MOVE bombing’s legacy, as it underscored the broader issues of governmental impunity, police militarization, and racial inequality in the American justice system.

In the aftermath of the MOVE bombing on May 13, 1985, the city of Philadelphia faced mounting pressure to provide reparations and compensation to the more than 250 displaced residents of Osage Avenue and nearby Pine Street, whose homes were destroyed in the fire that engulfed 61 rowhouses. The city initially promised to rebuild the homes quickly, aiming to restore the community and address the immense property damage caused by the bombing.

However, the rebuilding efforts were fraught with problems from the start. In the rush to repair the damage, the city hired contractors who performed substandard work, resulting in homes that were poorly constructed. Residents complained of leaking roofs, faulty plumbing, and structural instability. By the early 1990s, many of the newly rebuilt homes were already deteriorating, and residents felt abandoned by the city, which had failed to deliver on its promises of full restoration.

Legal action followed as residents of Osage Avenue sued the city for the shoddy construction and the emotional and financial toll of losing their homes. In 1996, after years of litigation, the city of Philadelphia agreed to a $12.83 million settlement with the displaced residents. This settlement was intended to compensate for the poor-quality homes and the long-term displacement that many residents endured. Each affected homeowner was offered approximately $150,000 to cover damages and rebuild their lives.

In addition to the settlement with residents, MOVE survivor Ramona Africa filed a civil lawsuit against the city, claiming that her civil rights had been violated during the bombing. Africa, who suffered severe burns during the fire, was the only adult to escape the inferno alive. After a lengthy legal battle, the city settled with Africa in 1996 for $1.5 million in damages.

Despite these financial settlements, many residents and critics argued that the compensation efforts fell short of fully addressing the emotional, psychological, and community toll the bombing had taken. The failed reconstruction of the homes and the lack of sufficient support for the displaced left many residents disillusioned and distrustful of the city government. For decades, the residents of Osage Avenue continued to live with the legacy of the MOVE bombing, grappling with both the physical and emotional scars of a tragedy that had forever altered their neighborhood.

The compensation efforts, though significant in terms of financial reparations, did little to fully heal the community or rectify the sense of injustice felt by those whose homes and lives were upended by the city’s decision to use such extreme force against MOVE.

Race, State Violence, and Urban Renewal

Race and Policing

The 1985 MOVE bombing is widely viewed as a stark reflection of systemic racial bias in law enforcement, illustrating the extent to which Black communities have historically been subjected to disproportionate state violence in the United States. The decision by Philadelphia officials to deploy military-grade force against MOVE, a primarily Black radical liberation group, and the broader Black community in West Philadelphia, is rooted in a pattern of racially biased policing practices that date back decades.

Philadelphia, like many American cities, had a long history of tension between its Black population and law enforcement. In the years leading up to the MOVE bombing, racial profiling, aggressive policing, and excessive force disproportionately affected Black neighborhoods. The Philadelphia Police Department, under Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor and his predecessor Frank Rizzo—who later became mayor—was known for its harsh tactics, particularly toward communities of color. Rizzo’s administration had fostered a culture of hostility toward Black activists and organizations, including groups like MOVE, which openly challenged systemic racism and police brutality.

The bombing itself was a culmination of years of racialized conflict between MOVE and the city. While MOVE’s radicalism and confrontational style were certainly factors in the escalation, the city’s decision to treat the group as a militant threat rather than engaging in peaceful negotiation highlighted the systemic racial bias in law enforcement’s approach. Despite the presence of children in the MOVE compound, law enforcement used tactics more akin to a military assault, including deploying over 500 police officers, using tear gas, water cannons, and ultimately, a bomb.

Moreover, the racial implications of the bombing were further underscored by the city’s decision to allow the fire to burn, which resulted in the destruction of 61 homes in a predominantly Black neighborhood. Many residents and civil rights activists pointed to the fact that such extreme measures would likely not have been used in a white, affluent area. The incident drew parallels to other instances of state violence against Black communities, such as the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, in which an entire Black neighborhood was destroyed under the pretext of restoring order.

The MOVE bombing is often seen as part of a broader pattern of racially biased law enforcement that disproportionately targets Black communities with excessive force and criminalizes Black resistance. The fact that no criminal charges were brought against city officials or police involved in the operation, despite the loss of 11 lives, including five children, further fueled perceptions that the justice system failed to hold authorities accountable when Black lives were at stake.

This event remains a symbol of the ways in which law enforcement, empowered by racial bias, can deploy extreme violence with impunity against marginalized communities, reinforcing long-standing racial inequalities in the U.S.

The 1985 MOVE bombing draws direct comparisons to other instances of state violence against Black communities in American history, such as the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre and the 1965 Watts Riots, highlighting a persistent pattern of racially motivated government actions that disproportionately target and devastate Black neighborhoods.

The Tulsa Race Massacre (1921):
One of the most notorious examples of state violence against a Black community occurred in Tulsa, Oklahoma, when a prosperous Black district known as Greenwood, often referred to as “Black Wall Street,” was destroyed. Sparked by a false accusation of a Black teenager assaulting a white woman, a white mob, with the complicity of local law enforcement, attacked Greenwood on May 31 and June 1, 1921. White residents, deputized by local police, and National Guard troops used firearms and dropped incendiary devices from private planes to decimate the area. Over 300 Black residents were killed, and more than 1,200 homes, businesses, and churches were burned to the ground, leaving thousands homeless. The authorities not only failed to protect the Black community but actively participated in the destruction. Like the MOVE bombing, Tulsa involved the government using extreme violence in a Black neighborhood, with long-lasting effects on survivors and the broader Black population.

The Watts Riots (1965):
Another key comparison is the Watts Riots in Los Angeles, which erupted on August 11, 1965, following an altercation between police and a Black motorist suspected of drunk driving. The situation escalated, fueled by years of racial tensions, police brutality, and economic inequality in the predominantly Black neighborhood of Watts. For six days, rioting ensued, with residents clashing with heavily armed police officers and National Guard troops deployed by the state. The law enforcement response was severe, with over 14,000 National Guard members patrolling the streets, resulting in 34 deaths, 1,000 injuries, and 4,000 arrests, while property damage totaled around $40 million. The extreme militarized response, much like the MOVE bombing, underscored how Black communities were often met with disproportionate force during civil unrest, reflecting systemic racial bias within law enforcement.

Parallels to MOVE Bombing:
Like these earlier events, the MOVE bombing saw law enforcement and government officials frame a Black community as a threat to public order, justifying the use of overwhelming and violent force. In all cases, the state’s response involved the destruction of Black homes and lives under the guise of restoring peace, and in each instance, the aftermath left lasting scars on the affected communities. The MOVE bombing, where a bomb was dropped on a residential neighborhood, echoed the aerial bombing of Tulsa’s Black Wall Street and the militarized suppression seen in Watts. Each of these events reveals a broader historical pattern: Black resistance, whether perceived or real, is often met with state violence, disproportionately impacting Black communities while reinforcing systemic racism.

The MOVE bombing, Tulsa Race Massacre, and Watts Riots are emblematic of how Black communities in the United States have been treated as war zones by their own government, with devastating, generational consequences for those who live through such state-sponsored violence.

Urban Renewal and Displacement

The MOVE bombing of 1985 occurred against the backdrop of broader trends in urban renewal that disproportionately impacted Black and marginalized communities throughout the 20th century. Urban renewal, often framed as a progressive effort to modernize and revitalize American cities, frequently resulted in the displacement of minority residents, the destruction of vibrant neighborhoods, and the further entrenchment of systemic racism in housing and city planning.

The Federal Housing Act of 1949:
The roots of urban renewal policies can be traced back to the Federal Housing Act of 1949, which aimed to address the growing demand for affordable housing and reduce urban blight. While the act promised revitalization, in practice, it authorized cities to clear so-called “blighted” areas, often displacing entire communities, particularly those of color. The policy gave local governments the power to condemn and demolish neighborhoods, typically Black and low-income, under the guise of modernization. These “renewed” areas were often repurposed for commercial developments or highways, leaving displaced residents with few options for relocation. The impact of this law can be seen in cities across the country, including Philadelphia, where neighborhoods like Black Bottom were destroyed, pushing Black residents to the margins.

Highway Construction and the Destruction of Black Neighborhoods:
Urban renewal programs in the 1950s and 1960s also saw the federal government support the construction of highways through the Federal-Aid Highway Act of 1956. This development exacerbated the displacement of Black communities. In many cities, highways were deliberately routed through predominantly Black and poor neighborhoods, cutting off communities from economic opportunities and physically dividing them. For example, in cities like Detroit and Atlanta, major highways carved through historic Black neighborhoods, uprooting families and businesses and leaving these areas economically devastated. In Philadelphia, similar forces were at play, with working-class Black neighborhoods in West Philadelphia facing encroachment from development plans aimed at expanding universities and hospitals.

The Case of Philadelphia:
In Philadelphia, urban renewal had a particularly harsh impact on Black communities. Between the 1950s and 1980s, projects like the redevelopment of Society Hill, University City, and the expansion of the University of Pennsylvania displaced thousands of Black residents from their homes. The narrative of urban renewal often portrayed these neighborhoods as run-down or crime-ridden, but they were also thriving cultural and social centers. The forced relocation of Black families reinforced racial segregation and concentrated poverty in fewer, more densely populated areas.

Impact on MOVE and West Philadelphia:
MOVE’s presence in West Philadelphia, particularly their home on Osage Avenue, must be viewed within the larger context of urban renewal and the displacement of Black residents. The tensions between MOVE and the city were not only ideological but also geographic. Osage Avenue was part of a neighborhood that had long been neglected by the city, and many residents were already frustrated with the lack of investment and services. MOVE’s defiant occupation of their fortified home and their resistance to city authorities symbolized a broader struggle over space, autonomy, and the right to remain in one’s neighborhood in the face of gentrification and state violence.

Urban renewal policies, particularly those targeting Black communities, created an environment in which these neighborhoods were systematically undervalued and vulnerable to drastic interventions by the state, such as the MOVE bombing. The city’s willingness to destroy an entire block of homes to neutralize a Black liberation group mirrored the broader national trend of viewing Black urban spaces as disposable.

Urban Renewal as a Tool of Racial Displacement:
By the 1980s, urban renewal had become synonymous with racial displacement. Cities across America had used it as a tool to clear out “undesirable” populations—primarily poor Black residents—to make way for new development that catered to wealthier, often white residents. The consequences of these policies were far-reaching, as displaced families struggled to find affordable housing, schools, and employment in already segregated and economically strained parts of the city.

The MOVE bombing, therefore, was not just an act of state violence against a radical Black group, but also part of a broader pattern of displacing and marginalizing Black communities in the name of urban progress. The destruction of 61 homes and the displacement of over 250 people following the bombing echoed the devastating effects of decades of urban renewal policies, which had consistently treated Black neighborhoods as expendable in the pursuit of modernization and economic growth.

Lasting Impact on Urban Communities:
The legacy of urban renewal continues to affect Black and marginalized communities today. Many of the neighborhoods targeted for renewal never fully recovered, leaving lasting scars of displacement, economic inequality, and racial segregation. The MOVE bombing serves as a powerful reminder of how state actions, whether through urban planning or police militarization, have consistently prioritized the interests of wealthier, often white, communities over those of Black and marginalized residents.

The MOVE bombing of May 13, 1985, can be seen as part of a broader pattern of gentrification and the targeting of Black neighborhoods, extending decades of urban displacement that systematically pushed Black residents out of their homes and communities. Gentrification, a process that accelerates when property values rise and wealthier residents move into historically low-income areas, often disproportionately affects Black and marginalized communities, leading to their displacement. In Philadelphia, this phenomenon was already well underway by the time of the MOVE bombing, particularly in areas like West Philadelphia where Black residents had lived for generations.

The Targeting of Black Neighborhoods:
Urban displacement in Philadelphia, like many American cities, dates back to the mid-20th century, when urban renewal policies cleared large swaths of Black neighborhoods under the guise of modernizing the city. Areas like Society Hill and Black Bottom were among those demolished or redeveloped, displacing thousands of Black families in favor of white, middle-class residents. This redevelopment was facilitated by the Federal Housing Act of 1949, which gave cities the power to declare neighborhoods “blighted” and seize property through eminent domain. These efforts, though framed as necessary for economic revitalization, disproportionately impacted Black communities, reinforcing racial segregation and worsening housing insecurity.

West Philadelphia, where MOVE resided on Osage Avenue, was a predominantly Black, working-class neighborhood. By the 1970s and 1980s, the area had become a target for gentrification, with nearby institutions like the University of Pennsylvania and Drexel University expanding their campuses, leading to rising property values and pushing out long-standing Black residents. The city’s neglect of basic services in these neighborhoods further compounded the problem, leaving residents vulnerable to displacement and making these areas ripe for redevelopment. The decision to engage MOVE with such extreme force cannot be disentangled from the broader pattern of targeting Black neighborhoods for state action, whether through police militarization or urban renewal.

The MOVE Bombing as an Extension of Urban Displacement:
The MOVE bombing itself can be viewed as an extension of the displacement that gentrification and urban renewal had already inflicted on Black neighborhoods in Philadelphia. The use of militarized force to remove a radical Black liberation group from their home on Osage Avenue echoed the ways in which city officials had cleared out Black residents in other parts of the city. Although MOVE’s fortified house and defiant stance against the city made them a particular focus for law enforcement, their presence also highlighted the growing tension between Black communities and a city increasingly prioritizing development projects aimed at attracting wealthier, often white, residents.

In this context, the bombing did more than just eliminate a perceived threat; it obliterated an entire block of homes, leaving over 250 Black residents displaced and homeless. Many of these residents had no connection to MOVE but found themselves collateral damage in the city’s decision to use extreme force to resolve the standoff. The destruction of these homes paralleled the displacement caused by gentrification and urban renewal projects throughout the city. Although the city promised to rebuild the homes, the reconstruction efforts were plagued by poor workmanship and structural issues, further eroding trust between Black residents and the government.

Gentrification and State Violence:
The MOVE bombing also demonstrated how state violence can be used as a tool of gentrification. As cities gentrify, Black communities are often the first to be labeled as “problem areas” or “blighted,” justifying the use of aggressive tactics to clear them out. The use of a bomb to remove MOVE from a Black neighborhood was an extreme example of this logic in action, where a primarily Black, working-class community was considered expendable in the face of maintaining order and advancing urban development goals.

By the 1980s, Philadelphia’s Black residents were acutely aware of the gentrification pressures they faced. The expansion of universities and the redevelopment of nearby areas like University City threatened to push them out, and the destruction of Osage Avenue after the MOVE bombing only compounded the fears of displacement. The fact that the city allowed the fire caused by the bomb to burn unchecked for nearly an hour, destroying 61 homes, underscores the disregard for the Black residents living in the area.

Lasting Impact of the MOVE Bombing and Gentrification:
The MOVE bombing is emblematic of the broader pattern of urban displacement driven by gentrification, where Black neighborhoods are often neglected, over-policed, and ultimately cleared out in favor of redevelopment. In the aftermath of the bombing, the promise to rebuild the homes on Osage Avenue turned into a long-standing legal and political issue, as residents sued the city for the poor construction of their homes and the failure to properly compensate them for the loss of their community.

Today, the MOVE bombing remains a powerful symbol of the intersection between state violence and urban displacement. It reflects how the same forces that drive gentrification—rising property values, urban redevelopment, and the prioritization of wealthier, often white residents—are closely linked to the systemic violence inflicted on Black communities. The bombing and its aftermath serve as a reminder that gentrification is not just a process of economic change but one deeply intertwined with racial inequality and state-sanctioned displacement.

Legacy of the MOVE Bombing

Impact on Philadelphia

The long-term effects of the MOVE bombing on the Osage Avenue neighborhood and its residents have been profound and enduring, leaving physical, emotional, and economic scars that persist decades after the tragedy. The immediate aftermath of the bombing on May 13, 1985, saw the destruction of 61 homes and the displacement of over 250 residents, most of whom were working-class Black families. Despite promises from the city of Philadelphia to rebuild the neighborhood and compensate the residents, the legacy of the bombing has been marred by failed reconstruction efforts, legal battles, and a deep sense of injustice.

Failed Reconstruction Efforts

In the months following the bombing, the city of Philadelphia, led by Mayor Wilson Goode, pledged to quickly rebuild the homes on Osage Avenue and nearby Pine Street. The city hired contractors to begin reconstruction, and by 1986, new homes were built. However, these efforts were rushed, and the quality of the construction was poor. Residents soon began reporting serious problems, including leaking roofs, faulty plumbing, electrical issues, and structural instability. In many cases, the homes were uninhabitable within a few years of being built.

The city’s failure to properly rebuild the neighborhood only deepened the residents’ frustration and sense of abandonment. By the early 1990s, many of the residents who had returned to their newly rebuilt homes had filed lawsuits against the city, seeking compensation for the substandard construction. In 1996, the city agreed to a $12.83 million settlement with the displaced residents. Despite this financial compensation, many felt that the settlement was insufficient to cover the long-term damage done to the community and the emotional toll of losing their homes and sense of security.

Legal and Emotional Fallout

The legal battles surrounding the bombing and the subsequent reconstruction efforts dragged on for years, leaving many residents feeling as though justice had never been fully served. While MOVE survivor Ramona Africa received a $1.5 million settlement from the city in 1996 for the violation of her civil rights, other residents were left with lingering resentment over how the city had handled both the bombing and the rebuilding process. The lack of accountability for city officials and the absence of criminal charges against those responsible for the decision to drop a bomb on a residential neighborhood added to the community’s sense of betrayal.

For the residents of Osage Avenue, the emotional toll of the bombing has been long-lasting. The trauma of witnessing their homes destroyed and losing neighbors, friends, and family members has remained with many for decades. The neighborhood, once a tight-knit community, never fully recovered its former sense of cohesion. Many residents moved away, unable or unwilling to return to the place that had been so violently disrupted.

A Neighborhood in Decline

The destruction of Osage Avenue also had a broader impact on West Philadelphia, which had already been struggling with disinvestment, poverty, and crime. The bombing and the failed reconstruction efforts exacerbated these issues, contributing to the further decline of the neighborhood. In the years following the bombing, property values in the area remained low, and many of the newly rebuilt homes fell into disrepair. The area, once a symbol of Black resilience and community, became a physical reminder of the violence and neglect that had been inflicted upon it.

The long-term economic impact of the bombing on the residents of Osage Avenue cannot be overstated. Many families lost not only their homes but also their primary financial assets. For those who had owned homes on Osage Avenue before the bombing, the destruction of their property represented a significant economic setback, from which many were unable to recover. Even those who received financial compensation found that it did not fully make up for the long-term financial and emotional losses they suffered.

Lingering Legacy of Distrust

The MOVE bombing left a deep legacy of distrust between the city government and the Black residents of Philadelphia, particularly in West Philadelphia. The use of military-grade force against a Black neighborhood, followed by the city’s failure to adequately compensate or rebuild, reinforced a long-standing belief that the government viewed Black lives and property as expendable. This distrust has persisted for decades, shaping how many in the city’s Black community view law enforcement, urban development, and local politics.

For many residents of Osage Avenue and West Philadelphia, the MOVE bombing remains a symbol of the broader racial injustices that Black communities have faced in the United States. The neighborhood, still bearing the physical and psychological scars of the bombing, serves as a reminder of the violence and neglect that has historically been inflicted upon marginalized communities by the state.

Ongoing Impact

In recent years, efforts have been made to remember and reckon with the legacy of the MOVE bombing. However, the long-term effects on the neighborhood and its residents continue to resonate. The failure of the city to fully address the damage done to Osage Avenue has left the area with a sense of unfinished business. For the residents who lived through the bombing and its aftermath, the memory of what happened on that day remains a painful part of their lives, shaping their relationship with the city and their sense of identity within it.

The MOVE bombing is not just a historical event but an ongoing story of urban displacement, racial injustice, and the failure of government to protect its most vulnerable citizens. The long-term effects on the neighborhood and its residents are a testament to the deep and lasting impact of state violence on marginalized communities.

Despite the devastating losses they suffered during the 1985 bombing, MOVE has maintained a continued presence in Philadelphia and has actively pursued justice for the members killed and the broader injustices they have faced. The group, originally founded in the early 1970s by John Africa, continues to stand by its core principles of Black liberation, environmentalism, and resistance to systemic oppression. Surviving members and supporters have remained vocal about the need for accountability for the bombing and the broader issues of police violence and government misconduct.

Ramona Africa and MOVE’s Fight for Justice

Ramona Africa, the only adult survivor of the 1985 bombing, became a central figure in MOVE’s ongoing fight for justice. Severely burned during the bombing, she managed to escape the inferno and was immediately arrested by the police. Charged with conspiracy and riot offenses, Ramona Africa served seven years in prison, emerging as a resilient and outspoken leader of the group. Upon her release, she filed a civil lawsuit against the city of Philadelphia, claiming her civil rights had been violated during the bombing. In 1996, she won a $1.5 million settlement from the city, which also included damages for the severe injuries she sustained.

Ramona Africa’s activism has kept the memory of the bombing alive. Throughout her life, she has spoken extensively about the events of 1985, holding the city accountable for its actions and demanding that the deaths of MOVE members, including children, not be forgotten. Her calls for justice have extended beyond financial compensation, focusing on the need for systemic reform in the way the city and law enforcement treat Black communities.

The MOVE 9 and Parole Campaign

A significant part of MOVE’s continued fight for justice has been the campaign to free the remaining members of the “MOVE 9,” who were imprisoned after the 1978 confrontation with police in Powelton Village, during which Officer James Ramp was killed. MOVE has consistently maintained that the group members were wrongfully convicted, arguing that they did not fire the shot that killed Ramp. In the years following the 1985 bombing, MOVE and their supporters launched a public campaign to secure the release of the MOVE 9, insisting that their imprisonment was part of a broader pattern of state persecution against the group.

By the 2010s, several members of the MOVE 9 began to be paroled after serving over 40 years in prison. In 2018, Debbie Africa became the first of the MOVE 9 to be released on parole, followed by Michael Africa Sr. and Michael Africa Jr. The release of these members was a victory for MOVE, though they continued to advocate for the full exoneration of the remaining members. The movement to free the MOVE 9 has been framed by the group as a fight against the broader system of mass incarceration and racial injustice in the United States.

Preserving the Legacy of MOVE

MOVE has also focused on ensuring that the legacy of the 1985 bombing is not forgotten. Every year, surviving members and supporters gather to commemorate the anniversary of the bombing, holding vigils and public events to honor the memory of those who died, including John Africa, who was killed in the bombing, and the five children who perished with him. These events serve as a reminder of the violent lengths to which the city was willing to go to suppress the group and the ongoing need for justice and accountability.

MOVE’s efforts to preserve its legacy have been supported by various activists, historians, and civil rights organizations. The bombing remains a symbol of state violence against Black communities, and MOVE has continued to raise awareness about the event’s significance, particularly in the context of ongoing police violence and the Black Lives Matter movement.

The City’s Attempts at Reconciliation

In recent years, there have been limited efforts by the city of Philadelphia to address the lasting wounds caused by the bombing. In 2021, Philadelphia Mayor Jim Kenney publicly apologized for the city’s actions during the bombing, acknowledging the deep pain and trauma the event caused. Kenney’s apology followed revelations that the remains of some of the MOVE victims, including children, had been improperly handled by the city and used in educational programs at local institutions without the consent of MOVE or the families.

While Mayor Kenney’s apology was seen as a step toward reconciliation, MOVE members have emphasized that apologies alone are not enough. They continue to demand greater accountability, including a full public acknowledgment of the city’s wrongdoings and the lasting impact on the neighborhood and the survivors. For MOVE, the struggle for justice is ongoing, not just for the 1985 bombing but for the larger systemic issues of police brutality and racial injustice that the event symbolizes.

Ongoing Relevance and Advocacy

In the wake of the renewed focus on police violence following the deaths of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and others in the 2020s, MOVE’s legacy has become increasingly relevant. The group’s experiences with state violence and their fight for justice resonate with broader movements against systemic racism and police militarization. MOVE’s continued activism emphasizes the importance of remembering history and addressing the root causes of racial injustice in America.

MOVE’s ongoing presence in Philadelphia is a testament to the group’s resilience in the face of state violence and its unwavering commitment to fighting for justice, both for its members and for marginalized communities nationwide. As the city grapples with its historical role in the bombing, MOVE’s efforts to seek accountability and reform remain at the forefront of Philadelphia’s reckoning with its past.

Cultural and Political Legacy

The 1985 MOVE bombing stands as a significant moment in American history, particularly within the broader context of civil rights and state violence against marginalized communities. While the bombing of a Black liberation group’s home by a U.S. city is unprecedented, it is part of a larger historical pattern of state-sanctioned violence, suppression of Black activism, and systemic racial injustice in the United States. The bombing highlights ongoing struggles for civil rights and the inherent tension between Black liberation movements and government authority.

State Violence and the Civil Rights Movement

The MOVE bombing can be understood as an extension of the repression that Black activists and communities have faced throughout American history, particularly in the civil rights era and beyond. The Civil Rights Movement of the 1950s and 1960s was met with intense resistance from local, state, and federal authorities. Black activists were frequently subjected to surveillance, harassment, and violence. Groups like the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC), and later, more radical organizations like the Black Panther Party, were often seen as threats to public order by the U.S. government.

The Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), under its COINTELPRO (Counter Intelligence Program), specifically targeted Black liberation movements, including the Black Panther Party, in the 1960s and 1970s. COINTELPRO’s goals were to “neutralize” Black leaders, disrupt their organizations, and prevent the rise of what the FBI called “Black messiahs” who could unite Black communities. The assassination of Black Panther leader Fred Hampton in 1969 by Chicago police, with the assistance of the FBI, is one of the most notorious examples of state violence against Black political movements. Like the MOVE bombing, the state justified these actions as necessary for public safety, but they were widely viewed as racially motivated efforts to suppress Black empowerment.

MOVE as Part of the Black Liberation Struggle

MOVE’s ideology, although distinct from more mainstream civil rights organizations, aligned with the broader Black liberation struggle that aimed to resist systemic racism, police brutality, and the exploitation of Black communities. Founded by John Africa in the early 1970s, MOVE combined Black liberation with environmental and anti-capitalist principles, challenging both racial and economic injustices. MOVE’s commitment to self-sufficiency and radical resistance to authority positioned them within the long history of Black communities rejecting systemic oppression.

The bombing of MOVE’s home on Osage Avenue in West Philadelphia was emblematic of the ways in which Black groups that resist or challenge the status quo have been met with excessive and militarized force. Much like the Black Panthers and other radical organizations, MOVE was framed as a threat to public safety, and the government justified extreme measures to suppress them. The decision to bomb a residential neighborhood in a predominantly Black area reflects the lengths to which the state has historically gone to neutralize Black resistance.

Civil Rights in the 1980s

The 1980s, when the MOVE bombing occurred, was a period of retrenchment in civil rights gains made in the previous decades. Under President Ronald Reagan’s administration, the federal government took steps to roll back civil rights protections, reduce funding for social programs, and promote a “law and order” agenda that disproportionately affected Black communities. The War on Drugs, which disproportionately targeted African Americans, led to mass incarceration and escalated tensions between Black communities and law enforcement.

Philadelphia’s decision to bomb MOVE in 1985 must be understood within this context of rising conservatism, the militarization of police forces, and the increasing criminalization of Black communities. The MOVE bombing, while an extreme example, was part of a broader pattern of state violence and repression that characterized the era. It showed how local governments, empowered by federal policies that emphasized law enforcement over social justice, were willing to use military tactics to address what they framed as urban unrest or disorder—often in Black neighborhoods.

Legacy of Racial Injustice and Police Militarization

The MOVE bombing is also part of the longer legacy of racial violence in America, particularly the targeting of Black communities. Historical events such as the Tulsa Race Massacre in 1921 and the 1965 Watts Riots in Los Angeles share parallels with the MOVE bombing. In each case, Black communities were subjected to overwhelming force, whether from white mobs, law enforcement, or the military, under the pretext of restoring order. These events exposed the racial inequalities inherent in the U.S. justice system, where Black lives and property were often viewed as expendable.

The militarization of the police, which became more pronounced in the 1980s, also played a key role in the MOVE bombing. The use of a military-grade explosive on a civilian neighborhood underscored the extent to which police forces had adopted military tactics to handle situations involving communities of color. This militarization continued to escalate in the decades that followed, contributing to the rise of movements like Black Lives Matter, which emerged in the 2010s in response to police violence against Black Americans.

MOVE Bombing’s Place in the Civil Rights Struggle

In the broader history of the civil rights struggle, the MOVE bombing is a powerful symbol of the lengths to which the state will go to suppress Black radical movements and maintain control over marginalized communities. Despite being less well-known than other major civil rights events, the MOVE bombing remains a critical example of how Black liberation efforts have been met with state violence, even after the supposed gains of the civil rights era.

The bombing also raised important questions about civil rights in the context of urban development and policing. As Black neighborhoods were increasingly targeted for urban renewal and gentrification, the MOVE bombing reflected the tensions between state efforts to control Black spaces and the resistance of Black communities to state intervention. The destruction of Osage Avenue, a predominantly Black working-class neighborhood, echoed the displacement of Black communities under urban renewal policies, reinforcing the long-standing racial inequalities in housing and policing.

Enduring Legacy

The MOVE bombing continues to serve as a cautionary tale in the fight for civil rights and social justice. It stands as a reminder that even in the post-civil rights era, Black communities remain vulnerable to state violence and repression. As discussions about police reform, systemic racism, and the legacy of civil rights continue in the United States, the MOVE bombing is an important historical moment that underscores the ongoing challenges faced by Black liberation movements in confronting state power.

The 1985 MOVE bombing continues to be a crucial reference point in discussions about police violence, state-sanctioned brutality, and the ongoing struggle for Black liberation. The event’s historical significance, rooted in the militarization of law enforcement and the targeted repression of Black radical movements, continues to shape modern discourse, especially in light of recent movements like Black Lives Matter (BLM) and the broader fight against systemic racism.

Militarization of Police Forces

One of the most enduring legacies of the MOVE bombing is how it highlights the militarization of police forces in the United States. The decision to drop a military-grade explosive on a residential neighborhood in West Philadelphia set a dangerous precedent for the use of extreme force by law enforcement against marginalized communities. This militarization was part of a broader trend in the 1980s, during President Ronald Reagan’s administration, which emphasized “law and order” and the aggressive policing of Black and urban communities under policies such as the War on Drugs.

Today, the MOVE bombing is often cited in debates over the increasing use of military tactics by civilian police forces, particularly in Black neighborhoods. The 1033 Program, initiated by the National Defense Authorization Act in 1997, which allows the transfer of military equipment to local law enforcement agencies, has intensified this issue in recent decades. Images of armored vehicles, SWAT teams, and heavily armed police during protests in Ferguson, Missouri, following the 2014 killing of Michael Brown, or during the George Floyd protests in 2020, echo the aggressive militarization seen during the MOVE bombing. The use of these tactics against peaceful protesters, many of them Black, has drawn direct comparisons to the MOVE bombing and raised critical questions about the appropriate use of force by law enforcement.

The Black Lives Matter Movement

The Black Lives Matter (BLM) movement, founded in 2013 following the acquittal of George Zimmerman in the shooting death of Trayvon Martin, has brought renewed attention to the state violence inflicted on Black communities, much like MOVE’s confrontation with Philadelphia authorities in 1985. The MOVE bombing is frequently referenced in the context of BLM as an early and extreme example of the lengths to which the government will go to suppress Black resistance and protest.

Both BLM and MOVE have drawn attention to the deep-seated problems of police brutality, systemic racism, and state repression. BLM’s focus on holding police accountable for extrajudicial killings of Black Americans has helped frame the MOVE bombing as part of a larger historical continuum of state violence against Black people, from the days of Jim Crow to the present. The event serves as a reminder of the risks Black communities face when they challenge state power, and it continues to be a rallying cry for those fighting against police violence today.

Reframing Black Liberation Movements

The MOVE bombing also plays a role in the ongoing reexamination of Black liberation movements. For decades, groups like MOVE, the Black Panther Party, and others were labeled as extremist or militant by mainstream society and government agencies. However, in recent years, there has been a shift in how these groups are understood, particularly in the context of their opposition to systemic racism and police violence.

The MOVE bombing is now frequently revisited in academic and activist circles as an example of how Black liberation groups were criminalized and violently repressed for advocating for basic human rights, such as freedom from police brutality and the right to self-determination. This reframing positions MOVE not as a radical outlier, but as part of a broader legacy of Black resistance to state violence, linking them to historical figures like Malcolm X and contemporary movements like BLM. MOVE’s commitment to challenging systemic racism, despite their nonconformist lifestyle, is increasingly recognized as part of the ongoing struggle for Black liberation, especially in a context where state violence continues to disproportionately impact Black communities.

Accountability and the Fight for Justice

The MOVE bombing’s lasting legacy in the discourse on police violence also touches on issues of accountability, or the lack thereof. Despite the deaths of 11 people, including five children, no city officials or police officers were held criminally accountable for the bombing. The grand jury convened after the event did not indict any officials, and the MOVE Commission’s 1986 report, while condemning the bombing as “reckless” and “unconscionable,” did not lead to any charges. This failure to hold the city accountable has become a recurring theme in modern discussions of police violence, where officers and officials responsible for the deaths of Black citizens often escape significant punishment.

The lack of accountability in the MOVE bombing is frequently compared to more recent incidents, such as the killings of Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, Eric Garner, and Tamir Rice, where the officers involved either were not charged or received minimal penalties. This connection has reinforced the idea that Black lives are undervalued by the justice system, and it has fueled demands for greater transparency, reform, and the defunding of police forces.

MOVE’s Continued Fight and Legacy

MOVE’s ongoing presence in Philadelphia, led by figures like Ramona Africa and other supporters, has ensured that the legacy of the bombing remains alive in public consciousness. MOVE’s continued activism—highlighting not only the bombing but also the broader issues of police brutality, racial injustice, and mass incarceration—has resonated with newer generations of activists and scholars. MOVE’s fight for justice, particularly their efforts to secure the release of the MOVE 9, who were imprisoned after the 1978 Powelton Village confrontation, continues to draw attention to the broader injustices facing Black activists and political prisoners.

The MOVE bombing is frequently invoked in Philadelphia and across the U.S. in discussions about police reform, racial justice, and the need to address the systemic roots of state violence against marginalized communities. Philadelphia’s 2021 apology for the bombing, issued by Mayor Jim Kenney, was an attempt to begin reconciling the city’s violent past, but for many, it was seen as insufficient without full accountability and reparations.

The Legacy in Popular Culture and Academia

The MOVE bombing continues to influence popular culture, academic discourse, and political activism. Documentaries, books, and scholarly articles regularly revisit the event, placing it within the broader narrative of Black resistance to state violence. Academic discussions on police brutality, mass incarceration, and the criminalization of Black political movements often reference MOVE as a case study in the excessive use of force and the systemic oppression of Black communities.

Moreover, in the context of ongoing racial protests and movements, the MOVE bombing is often invoked as a reminder of the long history of state violence in America. It has become a symbol of resistance and resilience for many in the Black liberation struggle, illustrating both the dangers of confronting state power and the enduring importance of speaking out against systemic oppression.

In this way, the MOVE bombing continues to shape and influence contemporary discussions on police violence and Black liberation, serving as a powerful historical example of the intersection of race, state authority, and the struggle for justice in the United States.

Revisiting MOVE in Contemporary Contexts

Re-examining the 1985 MOVE bombing in the era of Black Lives Matter (BLM) reveals the event’s continued relevance in contemporary struggles against systemic racism, police brutality, and the fight for accountability in law enforcement. As the BLM movement gained momentum following the 2013 killing of Trayvon Martin and reached global prominence after the 2020 murder of George Floyd, the MOVE bombing has been revisited as a critical historical example of state violence against Black communities. The parallels between MOVE and modern movements like BLM illuminate enduring issues of racial inequality, the militarization of police, and the lack of accountability for the excessive use of force against Black Americans.

The Black Lives Matter Movement and MOVE

BLM was founded in 2013 by activists Alicia Garza, Patrisse Cullors, and Opal Tometi in response to the acquittal of George Zimmerman in the killing of Trayvon Martin. The movement calls for an end to police brutality, racial profiling, and systemic racism, which disproportionately affect Black people in the United States. In this context, the MOVE bombing—where Philadelphia police dropped a military-grade bomb on a Black liberation group, killing 11 people, including five children—has been re-examined as a precursor to the kinds of state violence BLM protests against today.

The bombing exemplifies the extreme measures that law enforcement has historically taken against Black communities. Just as BLM highlights cases of excessive force and the systemic criminalization of Black people, the MOVE bombing underscores how Black resistance movements have been violently repressed. Both MOVE and BLM advocate for the protection of Black lives, and both have faced state opposition that frames their activism as a threat to public order, a dynamic that persists in the contemporary fight for racial justice.

Police Militarization and Systemic Racism

The MOVE bombing occurred at a time when U.S. law enforcement was becoming increasingly militarized, a trend that has only intensified in the decades since. In the 1980s, as part of the Reagan administration’s War on Drugs, police departments across the country began receiving military equipment and training, which escalated the use of militarized tactics in urban policing. The Philadelphia Police Department’s decision to drop a bomb on a residential neighborhood was an extreme example of this shift.

Today, the militarization of police remains a key issue in the fight against systemic racism. The Department of Defense’s 1033 Program, established in 1997, has allowed local police departments to acquire military equipment, including armored vehicles, assault rifles, and other weapons. This militarized response has been seen in numerous protests, including during the Ferguson protests in 2014 after the killing of Michael Brown and the nationwide protests following George Floyd’s murder in 2020. In these protests, heavily armed police used tear gas, rubber bullets, and military vehicles against largely peaceful demonstrators, echoing the kind of force used against MOVE.

The MOVE bombing’s legacy is directly tied to this ongoing issue. It serves as an early and extreme example of the consequences of police militarization, particularly when deployed against Black communities. Re-examining MOVE today raises important questions about how much has changed in terms of policing tactics and the state’s willingness to use excessive force to suppress dissent.

Lack of Accountability and the Justice System

One of the most striking parallels between MOVE and the contemporary fight against police violence is the persistent lack of accountability for law enforcement officers and officials responsible for the deaths of Black people. After the MOVE bombing, despite the deaths of 11 individuals, including children, no criminal charges were brought against city officials or police officers. The grand jury convened after the event declined to indict anyone, and while the MOVE Commission’s 1986 report condemned the city’s actions as “reckless” and “unconscionable,” it did not lead to any criminal prosecutions.

This lack of accountability continues to resonate in today’s fight for police reform. Many high-profile cases, such as the killings of Tamir Rice, Breonna Taylor, and Eric Garner, have similarly resulted in little to no legal consequences for the officers involved. The inability or unwillingness of the justice system to hold police accountable for the deaths of Black people reinforces the perception that Black lives are undervalued by the state, a core issue that both MOVE and BLM have highlighted.

The MOVE bombing’s legacy is a powerful reminder of how systemic racism within law enforcement and the justice system persists. The failure to prosecute those responsible for the deaths in the bombing parallels the ongoing struggles to hold police accountable for killing unarmed Black individuals, fueling calls for reform, transparency, and justice.

Philadelphia’s Apology and Reconciliation Efforts

In the context of BLM’s demands for justice and police accountability, Philadelphia’s recent attempts at reconciliation regarding the MOVE bombing highlight the ongoing impact of the event. In 2021, Philadelphia Mayor Jim Kenney issued a formal apology for the city’s actions during the bombing, acknowledging the deep harm and trauma it inflicted on the Black community. Kenney’s apology came after revelations that the remains of some MOVE bombing victims, including children, had been mishandled and used for educational purposes at local institutions without the knowledge or consent of MOVE members or their families.

While the apology was seen as a step toward healing, many, including MOVE members, have argued that it is insufficient without real accountability and reparations. MOVE members have long maintained that justice has not been served, and they continue to advocate for deeper systemic changes to prevent such atrocities from happening again. The call for meaningful reform and accountability echoes the demands of BLM and other movements working to address the root causes of systemic racism in policing and governance.

Reframing MOVE in Contemporary Activism

Re-examining MOVE in the era of BLM also invites a reframing of Black radical movements and their relationship with the state. For decades, groups like MOVE and the Black Panther Party were vilified as extremist or militant. However, in the context of contemporary activism, there has been a growing recognition of the legitimacy of their demands and the systemic racism they sought to expose.

Much like BLM today, MOVE fought against police brutality, government neglect, and the marginalization of Black communities. Their rejection of the status quo and demand for self-determination reflect broader themes in the struggle for Black liberation. Revisiting MOVE through the lens of modern civil rights activism helps to contextualize their resistance as part of a longer continuum of Black movements advocating for justice, freedom, and equality in the face of state violence.

Conclusion

The MOVE bombing, re-examined in the context of Black Lives Matter and the fight against systemic racism, reveals how deeply entrenched issues of police militarization, lack of accountability, and state violence remain in America. As BLM continues to push for police reform, transparency, and justice for Black communities, the MOVE bombing serves as a powerful historical example of the dangers of unchecked state power and the consequences of racial inequality in policing. By revisiting MOVE in contemporary contexts, activists and scholars can draw important lessons about the enduring struggle for Black liberation and the ongoing need to confront and dismantle systemic racism in the United States.

Reflection

The 1985 MOVE bombing stands as a defining event in understanding the intersection of race, state violence, and urban policy in the United States. This unprecedented act of state-sanctioned violence against a Black community in West Philadelphia revealed the deep racial disparities in how law enforcement and government policies are applied, particularly in urban settings where marginalized communities are often subject to aggressive policing, displacement, and neglect.

Race and State Violence

At its core, the MOVE bombing highlights the persistent racial bias that underpins state violence in America. The fact that Philadelphia police, with the approval of Mayor Wilson Goode, dropped a military-grade explosive on a Black liberation group’s home is a striking example of how Black communities have historically been treated as threats rather than citizens deserving of protection. The deaths of 11 people, including five children, and the destruction of 61 homes, were the result of a decision to prioritize the use of extreme force over negotiation, demonstrating how Black resistance movements are often met with overwhelming state violence.

This racial dynamic is not unique to the MOVE bombing but is part of a broader historical pattern in the United States. From the 1921 Tulsa Race Massacre, where white mobs destroyed a prosperous Black community with the complicity of local authorities, to the FBI’s COINTELPRO program that targeted Black activists like the Black Panther Party, the MOVE bombing fits into a long lineage of state repression of Black political movements. The bombing thus serves as a powerful example of how race influences the state’s response to dissent and protest, particularly when it comes from Black communities.

Urban Policy and Displacement

The MOVE bombing also sheds light on the ways in which urban policy and race intersect, particularly in terms of gentrification, displacement, and the criminalization of Black spaces. Osage Avenue, where the MOVE house was located, was a predominantly Black, working-class neighborhood that had already suffered from years of disinvestment and neglect by the city. MOVE’s presence in the neighborhood, while controversial due to their radical beliefs and lifestyle, was emblematic of the broader tensions between Black residents and the city’s urban development policies.

Philadelphia, like many other American cities, had been implementing urban renewal policies for decades, often resulting in the displacement of Black residents in favor of wealthier, predominantly white newcomers. The destruction of homes on Osage Avenue during the bombing, and the city’s subsequent failure to properly rebuild the neighborhood, mirrored the displacement that many Black communities faced during urban renewal projects. The MOVE bombing can thus be seen as an extension of urban policies that prioritized economic development and gentrification over the well-being and stability of Black communities.

Militarization of Policing in Urban Spaces

The decision to use militarized force, including a bomb, against MOVE underscores the growing militarization of police forces in the U.S., particularly in urban areas with large Black populations. The Philadelphia Police Department’s use of military tactics to address what they perceived as an urban threat set a dangerous precedent for how law enforcement interacts with marginalized communities. The bombing marked a turning point in the militarization of American police, a trend that has continued to this day with the proliferation of SWAT teams, armored vehicles, and military-grade weaponry used in domestic policing.

This militarization is particularly pronounced in urban settings, where Black and brown communities are often subjected to aggressive policing under the guise of maintaining order or combating crime. The MOVE bombing foreshadowed the kinds of militarized responses that would later be seen during protests in Ferguson, Baltimore, and other cities where Black communities have demanded accountability for police violence. It serves as a chilling reminder of how urban spaces, especially those inhabited by marginalized groups, are often treated as war zones by law enforcement.

Legacy and Lessons for the Future

As a defining event, the MOVE bombing remains central to understanding the complex relationship between race, state violence, and urban policy in the U.S. It exposes the structural racism embedded in how cities manage their Black populations, the extent to which the state is willing to use force to suppress dissent, and the impact of urban policies that marginalize and displace communities of color. The bombing also highlights the ongoing struggle for justice and accountability, as no criminal charges were ever brought against the city officials responsible for the deaths and destruction, mirroring the lack of accountability that continues to plague cases of police violence today.

Revisiting the MOVE bombing in the context of modern movements like Black Lives Matter and the fight for police reform offers valuable lessons for the future. It serves as a stark warning of the dangers of militarized policing, the consequences of failing to address systemic racism in urban policy, and the need for a justice system that holds those in power accountable for their actions. The MOVE bombing is not just a historical tragedy but a lens through which we can better understand the ongoing challenges of race, state violence, and urban inequality in the United States.

The MOVE bombing offers profound lessons about the intersection of race, police violence, and governmental accountability that remain deeply relevant today. As we reflect on this event, it becomes clear that systemic racial injustice, unchecked state power, and the militarization of law enforcement continue to shape the lives of marginalized communities across the United States. The bombing serves as a powerful reminder of the urgent need for police reform, racial justice, and sustained governmental accountability.

Lessons on Police Militarization and Accountability

One of the clearest lessons from the MOVE bombing is the danger of police militarization, particularly when deployed against Black communities. On May 13, 1985, the Philadelphia Police Department, under the authority of Police Commissioner Gregore J. Sambor and with the approval of Mayor Wilson Goode, used a military-grade C-4 explosive to resolve a standoff with MOVE, a Black liberation group. This escalation of force, which resulted in the deaths of 11 people, including five children, and the destruction of 61 homes, highlighted how militarized tactics can lead to catastrophic outcomes when applied in civilian settings.

The lack of accountability following the bombing—no criminal charges were ever brought against the officials responsible—demonstrates the critical need for a justice system that holds law enforcement and government officials accountable for their actions. The MOVE bombing remains a powerful example of how Black lives have historically been undervalued by the state, and how the absence of accountability fuels distrust between Black communities and the government. This lesson is echoed in recent cases, such as the killings of George Floyd, Breonna Taylor, and Tamir Rice, where officers responsible for unjust killings often face little to no legal consequences.

The Importance of Police Reform

The MOVE bombing underscores the importance of comprehensive police reform. The militarized approach taken by the Philadelphia police in 1985 was emblematic of a broader trend in U.S. policing that continues to this day. Programs like the Department of Defense’s 1033 Program, which provides military equipment to local police departments, have only deepened the militarization of police forces, especially in urban areas. The repeated use of military-style force during protests, particularly in Black communities, mirrors the tactics used against MOVE and demonstrates the need for a rethinking of how law enforcement engages with civilian populations.

Reform efforts, such as those championed by the Black Lives Matter movement, have called for the demilitarization of police, the implementation of community policing models, and the reallocation of police funding toward social services that address the root causes of crime, such as poverty, housing insecurity, and mental health issues. The lessons of the MOVE bombing make it clear that without meaningful police reform, Black communities will continue to be disproportionately targeted by aggressive policing strategies.

Racial Justice and Urban Policy

The MOVE bombing also offers critical insights into the ways in which urban policy intersects with racial justice. The neighborhood of Osage Avenue, where MOVE was located, was part of a larger pattern of disinvestment and neglect in predominantly Black areas of Philadelphia. This neglect, combined with gentrification pressures, positioned Black residents as expendable when faced with city development plans. The destruction of homes during the bombing and the city’s subsequent failure to adequately rebuild the neighborhood reflect the broader history of urban policies that displace and marginalize Black communities.

Today, urban policies that contribute to housing inequality, gentrification, and racial segregation continue to exacerbate the racial wealth gap in cities across the United States. The lessons from the MOVE bombing highlight the need for equitable urban development policies that prioritize the needs of historically marginalized communities, ensuring that they are not displaced or overlooked in the name of economic growth. Addressing these issues is central to achieving racial justice in urban areas.

Governmental Accountability and Systemic Change

Perhaps the most enduring lesson from the MOVE bombing is the need for sustained governmental accountability. The failure of the city of Philadelphia to hold anyone accountable for the deaths and destruction in 1985 continues to haunt the city. Mayor Wilson Goode’s 2021 apology for the bombing, though important, came decades too late for many of the victims and survivors. The lack of justice in the aftermath of the bombing has become a symbol of the broader failure to hold government officials and law enforcement accountable for their actions, particularly when those actions result in the harm of Black communities.

Continued dialogue around governmental accountability is essential for preventing future tragedies like the MOVE bombing. Activists, scholars, and policymakers must engage in discussions about how to ensure that those in power are held responsible for their decisions, particularly when those decisions lead to the loss of life or the violation of civil rights. This includes pushing for greater transparency in law enforcement, the establishment of independent oversight bodies to investigate police misconduct, and the implementation of policies that prioritize the protection of civil liberties.

Final Thoughts

The MOVE bombing remains a defining event in American history, offering critical lessons about race, police violence, and the role of government in perpetuating systemic inequalities. As we continue to grapple with these issues in the context of movements like Black Lives Matter, it is essential to reflect on the lessons learned from MOVE and commit to creating a more just and equitable society.

The importance of continued dialogue around police reform, racial justice, and governmental accountability cannot be overstated. The MOVE bombing, like many other instances of state violence against Black communities, serves as a stark reminder that without sustained efforts to address these issues, the cycle of violence and injustice will continue. By learning from the past and engaging in meaningful reforms, we can work toward a future where Black lives are valued, and where the government is held accountable for protecting all its citizens, not just the privileged few.

Sources and Further Reading

Books

1. “Burning Down the House: MOVE and the Tragedy of Philadelphia” by John Anderson and Hilary Hevenor (1987)

• This detailed account of the MOVE bombing offers a comprehensive narrative of the events leading up to May 13, 1985, the bombing itself, and its aftermath. The authors provide an in-depth look at the dynamics between the MOVE organization, city officials, and law enforcement. The book also explores the social, political, and racial climate in Philadelphia during the 1980s, providing essential context for understanding the tragedy.

1. “Let the Fire Burn: The MOVE Tragedy” by Michael Boyette and Randi Boyette (1989)

• Michael and Randi Boyette provide a gripping and detailed narrative of the MOVE bombing, based on interviews with key players, court records, and media reports. The book delves into the origins of MOVE, the city’s conflicts with the group, and the escalating tensions that led to the bombing. The authors also discuss the legal and political fallout, making it a crucial resource for anyone studying the event.

1. “A House on Fire: The Rise and Fall of Philadelphia Soul” by John A. Jackson (2004)

• While not exclusively focused on MOVE, this book offers context on Philadelphia’s political and cultural landscape during the 1970s and 1980s, touching on racial tensions, urban renewal, and the city’s Black communities. Jackson provides insights into how these broader trends influenced the dynamics that led to the MOVE bombing.

1. “The Assassination of Fred Hampton: How the FBI and the Chicago Police Murdered a Black Panther” by Jeffrey Haas (2009)

• This book provides a broader understanding of how Black political movements in the United States have been met with violent repression by law enforcement. While focusing on the assassination of Black Panther leader Fred Hampton, it draws parallels with the state-sanctioned violence against MOVE, highlighting how both groups were perceived as threats to the status quo.

1. “From the War on Poverty to the War on Crime: The Making of Mass Incarceration in America” by Elizabeth Hinton (2016)

• Elizabeth Hinton traces the historical roots of mass incarceration and the criminalization of Black communities in the U.S., which laid the groundwork for incidents like the MOVE bombing. This book helps to contextualize how state violence, urban policy, and policing converged to create the conditions that led to MOVE’s violent suppression.

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Academic Articles and Essays

1. “MOVE, the State, and the Violence of ‘Law and Order’” by Robin D.G. Kelley (Journal of American History, 1995)

• This scholarly article explores the broader implications of the MOVE bombing in the context of state violence and the rhetoric of “law and order.” Kelley examines the political and racial dimensions of the bombing and its place in the history of Black liberation movements in the U.S.

1. “The MOVE Bombing and Racialized Urban Policy” by Michael Awkward (African American Review, 1996)

• Awkward’s essay focuses on how urban policies shaped by race, class, and gentrification contributed to the MOVE bombing. He discusses how the city’s approach to MOVE reflects broader trends in racialized governance and urban renewal, drawing connections between the event and patterns of displacement in Black communities.

1. “Police Power and Black Resistance: MOVE and the Legacy of COINTELPRO” by Joy James (Black Scholar, 1997)

• This article situates the MOVE bombing within the larger framework of COINTELPRO and the state’s efforts to suppress Black radical movements. James argues that MOVE was treated as an extension of earlier Black resistance movements like the Black Panther Party, and thus met with militarized violence.

1. “The MOVE Bombing and the Militarization of the American City” by Peter James Hudson (Radical History Review, 2015)

• Hudson discusses the militarization of police forces and how the MOVE bombing reflects broader trends in urban policing. He situates the bombing within a history of state violence against Black communities and argues that it set the stage for modern police militarization.

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Documentaries and Films

1. “Let the Fire Burn” (2013) directed by Jason Osder

• This critically acclaimed documentary uses archival footage, news reports, and interviews to tell the story of the 1985 MOVE bombing. Rather than relying on contemporary interviews or narration, Osder lets the historical footage speak for itself, providing an unfiltered view of the events that led to the bombing and its aftermath. This documentary is essential viewing for understanding the scale and impact of the tragedy.

1. “MOVE: Confrontation in Philadelphia” (1981) directed by Karen Pomer and Jane Mancini

• This earlier documentary chronicles the conflicts between MOVE and the city of Philadelphia leading up to the 1985 bombing. Released before the bombing itself, it focuses on the 1978 confrontation between MOVE and the Philadelphia Police Department, providing critical background on MOVE’s beliefs and the city’s efforts to suppress the group.

1. “The Bombing of Osage Avenue” (1986) directed by Louis Massiah

• This short documentary, produced shortly after the bombing, focuses on the impact of the event on the residents of Osage Avenue. It provides firsthand accounts from displaced residents and examines the city’s failure to rebuild the neighborhood. This film is a poignant look at the human cost of the bombing.

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Interviews and Oral Histories

1. Ramona Africa – Interviews and Speeches

• Ramona Africa, the sole adult survivor of the MOVE bombing, has given numerous interviews and speeches in the years since the event. Her perspective as both a survivor and a leader in MOVE provides critical insight into the tragedy. Notable interviews include her appearance on Democracy Now! and her participation in various forums on state violence and police accountability.

1. MOVE Organization Oral Histories

• Several oral history projects have recorded the testimonies of MOVE members, Osage Avenue residents, and city officials involved in the events leading up to and following the bombing. These interviews, preserved by institutions like Temple University’s Urban Archives, offer valuable firsthand perspectives on the bombing and its aftermath.

1. Mayor Wilson Goode – Apology Statements and Reflections

• In recent years, Mayor Wilson Goode has reflected on his role in the MOVE bombing, particularly during his 2021 apology for the city’s actions. His interviews, including appearances in documentaries and public statements, offer a rare perspective on the decision-making process behind the bombing and the lessons learned since.

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News Articles and Reports

1. “MOVE: 30 Years After the Bombing, Philadelphia Is Still Paying for What Happened on Osage Avenue” by Sam Ruland (Philadelphia Inquirer, 2015)

• This retrospective article marks the 30th anniversary of the bombing and explores its lingering effects on Philadelphia, particularly on the Osage Avenue neighborhood. It covers the city’s failed reconstruction efforts and the ongoing legal and political fallout.

1. “The Day Philadelphia Bombed Its Own People” by Bill Hangley Jr. (The Atlantic, 2019)

• Hangley’s article provides an in-depth look at the MOVE bombing’s historical significance, connecting it to broader trends in police militarization and racial injustice. It examines how the bombing fits within the U.S. history of racial violence and state suppression of Black radical movements.

1. “How the MOVE Bombing Exposed Philadelphia’s Racial Fault Lines” by Errin Haines (Associated Press, 2021)

• This article reflects on the enduring impact of the MOVE bombing, particularly in light of Mayor Jim Kenney’s 2021 apology. It discusses the racial tensions that persist in Philadelphia and how the bombing has shaped the city’s politics and race relations over the past three decades.