And the Oscar goes to...

Vincent Leaphart as "John Africa" in "The United States vs. John Africa"

If you know MOVE—or even if you don’t—what you need to understand for today’s This Day in MOVE History essay is: MOVE isn’t just known for their “back to nature” beliefs or their shared surname, Africa. They are infamous for their criminal trials. Hundreds of them. No group in Philadelphia history clogged the courts more, cost the city more, or disrupted more proceedings than MOVE.

In every case—whether the charge was assault, contempt, or murder—they didn’t put on a legal defense. They put the system on trial. It wasn’t about innocence or guilt. It was about following the teachings of their leader, John Africa, who insisted the system itself was wrong and it was their mission to expose it, confront it, and ultimately overthrow it. That’s how mankind would be returned to a “precivilized” state—no laws, no electricity, no medicine, no clothes.

Bizarre ideology. Terrible legal strategy. But that was the point.

All followers followed “the strategy of John Africa” without question, and that led to more than 350 combined years of incarceration for a cultic group that never had more than 50 core members, including Mumia Abu Jamal.

BUT, there is one MOVE trial where the “get yourself convicted” strategy was not used - UNITED STATES vs. Vincent Leaphart aka John Africa & Alphonso Robbins.

I’ve read the transcript of this federal case at least five times. Every time I catch something I missed. A clue. A pattern. A slip of the tongue. I know it so well I can place myself there in the Philadelphia courtroom filled with MOVE followers and press. And so, I’m going to take you with me. Back to this day in MOVE history, 44 years ago…

July 16, 1981

Vincent Leaphart is in federal courtroom #2722 in Philadelphia alongside his second-in-command, Alphonso Robbins, a.k.a. Mo Africa. Vincent is ten days shy of his 50th birthday. Alphonso is 31. They are both dressed in jeans and grey crewneck sweatshirts, which is not prison-issue, it is their chosen trial wardrobe - the cult uniform of MOVE.

It’s the final day of their ten-day federal trial for making and possessing illegal explosives—BOMBS.

They had been fugitives for nearly four years. A grand jury indicted them in September 1977, and they fled.

Authorities finally found them in Rochester, NY, and on May 13, 1981, Vincent and Alphonso were handcuffed, arrested, and booked.

(L) Vincent Lopez Leaphart (aka John Africa. (R) Alphonso Robbins aka Mo Africa. (I had so much fun “Warhol-izing” their mugshots - merch coming soon!)

They were extradited to Philadelphia, and their trial began on July 2, 1981. The presiding judge was the Hon. Clifford Scott Green.

Just like their followers, Vincent and Alphonso chose to represent themselves, but with a twist. They were cooperative and consulting their court-appointed standby counsel. From the start, it was a MOVE trial—but with a different strategy—beat the charges.

In the transcript, Alphonso is referred to as “Mr. Robbins” and Vincent is referred to as “Mr. Africa”. Alphonso refers to him as “Vincent Africa”. The Prosecutors make use of all names known to them for Vincent - John Africa, “Charlie”, Vincent Africa and Vincent Leaphart.

The courtroom is full of local reporters and MOVE followers—Vincent’s sisters, Louise and LaVerne, and a rotating bullpen of MOVE members not currently in prison - some of them had their young children in tow.

Alphonso questioned witnesses, taking whispered cues from Vincent, who sat beside him, body language making it clear he was still the one in charge. MOVE members were bussed in from prison to testify as defense witnesses, but it was pure devotional theater for their leader, which was irrelevant to the case but a fun day pass from the prison.

When the prosecution displayed the physical evidence—pipe bombs, gunpowder, weapons, and bomb-making manuals—Vincent closed his eyes. A performance of total disinterest meant to show that the government had no legitimacy. He was John fucking Africa, and there was no power greater than MOVE and their “God,” Momma Nature.

The federal court forbade cameras, and no courtroom sketches were created, so I made this one in AI based on the photographic research I have gathered. I quite like it.

Most of the devoted followers in the gallery were young women, many of whom were single mothers. The woman in the LLJA T-shirt is my favorite non-vegan MOVE member - Jeaneatte Knighton, aka Pam Africa (I call her HAM AFRICA).

Vincent chose not to take the stand in his defense. Instead, he submitted MOVE’s Guidelines as a legal filing, arguing that this wasn’t a bomb case—it was religious persecution.

The only time Alfonso wasn’t serving as their Counsel was when Vincent cross-examined ATF agent Walt Waslyuk, who’d arrested them in Rochester. Vincent’s questions unraveled like a stoned freshman trying to debate the definition of “conspiracy” and the concept of “organization” in a dorm hallway at 3 a.m.

(drumroll, please)

Then, at the end of the very last day of the trial, it is announced that Vincent will deliver the closing arguments.

For over an hour, his speech unraveled like a TED Talk delivered mid–nervous breakdown or acid trip. He railed against technology, blamed “the system” for inventing explosives, and insisted the real crime wasn’t that he possessed bombs, but that bombs existed at all.

He told jurors he was fighting for their clean air and water, cast himself as the victim, and accused the prosecutor of a personal vendetta.

To extol the virtues of MOVE, which Vincent created, he needed to condemn the system, which is everyone who is not MOVE.

HUH?

And then my VERY favorite logic from Vincent - I love it so much I might just put it on a t-shirt and sell it.

Monkeys don’t shoot people, but people will shoot monkeys. Yet monkeys are seen as unclear, and people are seen as intelligent.

You can go as far in the forest and you won’t find no jails. Because the animals of the forest don’t believe in jail. But come to civilization and that’s all you see.

It’s illogical—but Vincent exploits real societal ills (racism, guns, mass incarceration, war, environmental crisis) to sell his “fuck the system” monologue.

After being warned he’d gone over the allotted 40 minutes for his closing argument, Vincent channeled his own version of Jack Nicholson in A Few Good Men 🍿🍿🍿

I’m not a guilty man! I’m an innocent man!

Vincent’s shouting turns to tears.

I didn’t come here to make trouble or bring trouble. But to bring the truth.

And goddamn it, that‘s what I’m going to do.

AI image created by me - not bad, right?

Vincent then crumbles into the arms of his consoling co-defendant Alphonso.

🎬 And, SCENE.

I mean, Wow! Right? Hollywood has nothing on MOVE.

It was then up to the 12-person jury.

Don’t Google to find out how it ends.

Just SUBSCRIBE and wait for my THE JURY IS BACK alert to hear the verdict.