As eight men and one woman patrolled the streets of North Philadelphia on a below-freezing night in late January, they proudly modeled themselves on the Black Panther Party for Self Defense, a group founded by Huey P. Newton and Bobby Seale in California in the 1960s. 

The men were following Paul Birdsong, chairman of the newly formed Black Lion Party for International Solidarity, who clutched an MP5 semiautomatic shotgun to his chest. Two journalists from Paris accompanied the group, drawn by Birdsong’s defiant comments about U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement agents at a recent protest in downtown Philadelphia.

Although Birdsong, 39, said he began building the Philadelphia organization in 2024, his fiery words during a January 8 protest brought him and his organization a viral level of visibility in and out of Philadelphia. They say their mission is to protect their neighbors from gun violence, drug dealers, sex traffickers, police, and most recently, ICE agents. 

ICE and its agents are drawing global attention for violent clashes with protesters and undocumented people who have been targeted for arrest. Criticism of both the agents and the Trump administration has grown precipitously since the fatal shootings in Minneapolis in January of mother of three Renee Good and intensive care nurse Alex Pretti. 

Policing the police was a hallmark of the original Panthers, which disbanded in 1982. That legacy continues with Birdsong, who said he is not afraid for his safety when confronting armed law enforcement officers. 

A video that went viral in January shows Birdsong holding an assault-style rifle on a city street berating and lecturing city cops about his right to be armed. The tense standoff ends with the officers getting in their cars and driving away. It was a surreal moment in a city where the Police Department, for generations, has had a reputation for being quick to brutalize and shoot Blacks — especially armed Black men.

During their daily safety patrols from North Philly to West Philly to Kensington, the Black Lions challenge drug dealers and other criminals, Birdsong said. Their intent is to strike back against anyone who poses a threat to Black Philadelphians.

“Anybody who means harm to the Black man, woman, or child, we mean harm to them,” said Birdsong, who patrols with two 9mm semiautomatic handguns tucked on his body in addition to his bigger gun. 

The heavy-handed tactics of ICE agents led Birdsong’s group to raise its profile, including by attending the January 8 protest. As members walked among the protesters, they spotted a group of ICE agents who, upon seeing the Black Lions, retreated to their vehicles and drove away.

“And that was the goal, for people to be able to protest and not be attacked by the police,” Birdsong said.

The attraction to the group by its members, though, goes beyond concerns about federal agents. I’Jazz Carter, 21, said he was moved to join out of his desire to help improve life in the city’s predominantly Black communities.

“One main thing that I would really like for us to do is end Black-on-Black murder. Because we all come from the same place and we are not our enemy,” said Carter, who survived being shot five times when he was 17. 

Sparks on a cold night

Three times a day, Birdsong, who uses the title “commander,” leads a group of Black Lions, referred to as “comrades,” on armed patrols through Philadelphia. Pennsylvania law allows rifles and shotguns to be openly carried in the city with a license. Birdsong is quick to assert that law whenever he is asked or challenged about the legality of walking the streets with guns.

They get plenty of blank stares and supportive shoutouts of, “Black Panthers!” and “Black Power,” from passing motorists. But the group has also drawn scrutiny in the city, which has experienced a record decrease in gun violence with the ebb of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Craig Storrs, executive director of Pennsylvania Gun Rights, which advocates for the abolition of all gun-control laws, said that while he supports the Black Lions’ exercising their right to open carry, he’s not a fan of their confrontational style.

“In Philadelphia, as well as everywhere else in the country right now, all of this enforcement stuff is a hot-button issue,” Storrs said. “The temperature needs to be brought down. We encourage lawful exercising of Second Amendment rights. We, obviously, do not encourage confrontation with law enforcement.”

While patrolling in North Philadelphia on January 19, the frigid night heated quickly and the schism between Birdsong’s group and city police was on full display near the corner of North 18th and Monument Streets. An officer asked the group members not to block the sidewalk, prompting several to deny doing so while spewing insults. 

“Appreciate you guys, thank you very much,” the officer said as he and three other cops walked by. 

“You’re not welcome, keep it going,” some of the Black Lions replied, before walking to the corner and confronting that officer and his partner after they’d gotten into their marked patrol car. 

The Black Lions repeatedly demanded to know the officer’s name, and berated him for how he was parked on a one-way street. 

“Stop obstructing traffic! You can park anywhere else. You don’t need to block a whole street,” Birdsong told the officer, his gun resting in the crook of his right arm. Another group member, who identified himself as Comrade Arch, 37, was standing a few feet from the patrol car, also grasping a black AR-15 long pistol.

The officer gave his name as “Albert,” and his badge number as 1553. He warned the group again not to block the sidewalk as he began driving away amid a torrent of insults. 

“People gotta learn from the past”

If history is a guide, Birdsong and his Black Lions will have to weather more pushback than they’ve encountered so far. Asserting their right to arm themselves while patrolling the streets of Oakland, California, actually led to the disarming of the original Black Panther Party.

The Mulford Act, drafted in 1967, called for prohibiting the open carrying of loaded firearms. It was a direct response to the Panthers’ patrols. 

To protest the legislation, on May 2 of that year, 30 armed Panthers went to the California State Capitol in Sacramento, a scene that galvanized the Panthers’ supporters while it shocked many across the nation, including the National Rifle Association and California Governor Ronald Reagan, who supported the eventual adoption of the legislation.

Birdsong initially called his group the Black Panther Party, but changed its name to The Black Lion Party for International Solidarity in late January. He made that change, he said, because original Black Panther Party members withdrew their support of his organization because of his fiery words aimed at law enforcement. 

Regardless of the change in name, Birdsong’s group has retained its negative view of police.

“They feel like, ‘Oh, I can say or do whatever I want to because I’m a cop and I got a gun and I can call more people with guns.’ But they only do that to people they can get away with doing that to,” said Birdsong, who added that he believes his group can serve as a check and balance system for bad cops. 

Police Commissioner Kevin Bethel told The Trace that he is troubled by the group’s behavior. 

“I think when you go through a neighborhood, standing on a corner, antagonizing the Police Department with your guns, carrying long guns, I’m trying to figure out what the purpose is. Is it to excite? Is it a performance? I mean, what is that?” Bethel said. “I don’t understand. But we will respect people’s First Amendment rights to protest, as we have done. It gets very challenging because when people see those types of weapons on the streets, they get alarmed.”

Birdsong said he’s focused on building the Philadelphia organization, which hasn’t been easy. He won’t give an exact number of members, but says it’s under 100. He wouldn’t disclose how many have guns, but says those who are armed are also licensed to carry. Since he began recruiting in the fall of 2024, he says, he’s had to expel 52 people for a host of infractions including using drugs, fighting, failing to report for duty, and insubordination.

“But I’m here, and they’re here,” he said, while his group took a patrol break at a North Broad Street smoothie shop near Temple University. 

Intrigued by the sight of the Lions, customer Charles Bland, 67, struck up a conversation with a few. He reminisced about how the original Philadelphia Black Panther Party fed him and other children breakfast and lunch during summers, and taught them history lessons. 

Bland said he’s hopeful this generation succeeds. “I think this is a good thing, a group of Black people, as a unit, saying positive things to other Black people,” he said.

Back at the group’s North Philly headquarters, a young woman who asked that her name not be used stopped by to drop off a bag of clothing for community donations.

“I’m not surprised at all that they’re back,” said the 19-year-old woman, citing the presence of ICE in the city. “I come from a family of immigrants. People gotta start fighting back, and people gotta learn from the past.” 

The Trace’s reporting in Philadelphia is a part of Every Voice, Every Vote, a collaborative project managed by The Lenfest Institute for Journalism. The William Penn Foundation provides lead support for Every Voice, Every Vote in 2024 and 2025 with additional funding from The Lenfest Institute for Journalism, Comcast NBC Universal, The John S. and James L. Knight Foundation, Henry L. Kimelman Family Foundation, Judy and Peter Leone, Arctos Foundation, Wyncote Foundation, 25th Century Foundation, Dolfinger-McMahon Foundation, and Philadelphia Health Partnership. To learn more about the project and view a full list of supporters, visit www.everyvoice-everyvote.org. Editorial content is created independently of the project’s donors.