Commentary

Guerrillas in the Mist

Although courageous, the activists entrenched at the Warner Creek timber sale are engaging in violent, flagrantly illegal tactics.

In recent years, radical environmental activism has undertaken a more violent approach to combating what it sees as "crimes against the planet." Arson, theft, vandalism and intimidation have become the hallmarks of those who seek to protect the environment at all costs.

In response to this trend, a Sept. 26 Oregonian article detailed some of the most violent and costly acts of "eco-terrorism" in the last two decades. Among those cited were the destruction of an animal experimentation lab, a Eugene meat packing facility, and a log loader near Cle Elem, Washington that caused $650,000 worth of damage.

Additionally, the tree-sitting protest near Oakridge at the Warner Creek timber sale has become one of the most blatant and enduring acts of sabotage in recent years. The "Red Cloud Thunder" movement, as it is called, began in April of 1998 and is intended to stop the Forest Service from selling government-owned timber to private businesses. For more than a year and a half, these "Ewoks" have refused to descend from their makeshift village more than 200 feet above the forest floor. This leaves the Forest Service with the inevitable task of removing the protesters without risking any lives, their own included.

The current issue of "Earth First! Journal" has a link on the protesters' web page, describing the tree sitters as "a diverse community of forest defenders" protected by a "ring of defenders below the trees where up to 100 anarchists, punks and travelers congregate and live in defiance of corrupt, illegal logging by the Forest Service and its corporate clients, in this case Zip-O Saw Mills." Later in that same article the author, "Acorn," quotes a protester dubbed "River" as having said, "For months, I've lived near the top of a year-old Douglas Fir named Fanghorn...We are here protecting the precious trees and land, so they won't be destroyed by this country's excess and greed...acting directly on our beliefs and what we know is right."

These sentiments were reflected by another protester, nicknamed "Froto," in a call to syndicated radio talk show host Art Bell several weeks ago. Froto made clear his situation and aims, issuing a call for both supporters and detractors to come and see for themselves what the protest was all about.

Jason Gathercole and Steven Jurries, University students and residents of Eugene, decided to accept Froto's invitation. They did not know they would not be received with the same patient open-mindedness Froto received from Mr. Bell.

At first, the two were unable to find their way to the site. Protesters had already uprooted the Bureau of Land Management's (BLM's) road signs, making early morning navigation around that section of forest a purely instinctual matter. After driving for some time, however, the pair came upon a half-dozen hippies sitting around a bonfire built in the middle of the road, forcing them to drive around it. Less than 200 yards down the road they were again forced to stop by a ditch, three feet deep and four feet across- and another bonfire burning several yards past the ditch, this one spanning the entire roadway.

It should be noted here that the danger of sparking a large-scale forest fire has been great enough to force the government to declare a moratorium on campfires until the fall rains return.

Gathercole and Jurries, each with concealed weapons permits and handguns for their personal protection, exited their SUV and were confronted by another group of 12 protesters. They were told that they were "not allowed here," despite the fact that they were all on public land and despite Froto's open invitation. Regardless, they were permitted to enter the woods in search of the protesters' encampment.

Followed at all times by a smaller group of protesters, they searched the woods for half an hour. Unable to find the tree sitters and uneasy with their newfound hosts, the two returned to their vehicle. They found it blocked in by two cars parked directly behind it and a crowd of about 25 angry protesters, some armed, awaiting their return. By this time, the two were already resting their hands on the hilts of their guns.

The group accused them of being cops and "infiltrators." Two of their more vocal members even said that they "weren't gonna get out of here alive," although that was reportedly not the sentiment of the entire group.

A gunshot, however, was fired by one of the protesters in an unknown direction after they were told that there were several "scopes trained on [their] heads right now," causing both Gathercole and Jurries to grasp their pistols even tighter.

This confrontation continued for another half hour as the group demanded to see their ID's, repeatedly asked why Jurries' SUV carried Michigan license plates, and continued to accuse them of infiltration. One protester even threatened to call the police, stating again that they were not supposed to be there and implying that the two were in violation of the law. At this, Jurries produced a cellular phone and offered to dial 911 himself, prompting the protesters to rethink the idea and to decide that they really didn't want to see the police after all.

Realizing the situation was not likely to improve, Gathercole announced that he and Jurries were leaving whether the protesters moved their vehicles or not, gambling that they were not willing to escalate the confrontation beyond intimidation and scare tactics. The gamble paid off and the protesters moved their vehicles to allow the two to leave unobstructed.

As they drove off, one protester, who had earlier said he would "follow [them] until [he] ran out of gas," pulled out behind them and followed them until they arrived in Pleasant Hill.

Since then, Gathercole and Jurries have spoken with local law enforcement agencies about their encounter, and they are in the process of filing charges against the protesters involved.

This incident and the Warner Creek timber protest as a whole are prime examples of radical activism spiraling out of control. Flouting the law and evading serious punishment for over a year, some activists are obviously beginning to view themselves as above the constraints of society, unbound by its regulations. Aside from menacing, the protesters present that night committed at least one act of illegal detention and possibly even statutory kidnapping by disallowing their "guests," as it were, any recourse to leave the area. Add to that the willful destruction of BLM property, the reckless conduct involved with discharging a firearm in close proximity to a crown and the lighting of fires on public roads, and the felonies begin to pile up.

It's easy to identify with a group of courageous idealists willing to sacrifice themselves for the advancement of their cause. It is not, however, acceptable that anyone, no matter how lofty they believe their ideals to be, should violate the rights of others. Until the protesters are removed from the site and prosecuted for their continuing violations of state and federal law, I have no doubt that incidents similar to the one described in this article will continue. When dealing with a group of radicals living in self-purported anarchy, without any respect for law or authority of any kind, we cannot hold any reasonable expectation that the next incident will end as passively as the last.

David Roselip, a junior majoring in Political Science, is a staff writer for the Oregon Commentator