A U.S. District Court has thrown out the indictment of four animal rights activists who were charged with violating the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act, because the government did not clearly explain what, exactly, the protesters did.

When Joseph Buddenberg, Maryam Khajavi, Nathan Pope and Adriana Stumpo were arrested in 2009, prosecutors said little other than that the group allegedly chalked slogans on the sidewalk, distributed fliers and attended protests. Later, when they were officially indicted, the government was still tight-lipped about how their non-violent, above-ground protests amounted to “terrorism.”

In response, the Center for Constitutional Rights and attorney Matthew Strugar led an effort to have the indictments dismissed. In short, they argued that the charges should be dropped because they seem to involve only protected First Amendment speech, but that in order to make that argument the defendants’ speech must be clearly identified.

Here’s an excerpt from Judge Ronald M. Whyte’s ruling:

In order for an indictment to fulfill its constitutional purposes, it must allege facts that sufficiently inform each defendant of what it is that he or she is alleged to have done that constitutes a crime. This is particularly important where the species of behavior in question spans a wide spectrum from criminal conduct to constitutionally protected political protest. While “true threats” enjoy no First Amendment protection, picketing and political protest are at the very core of what is protected by the First Amendment. Where the defendants’ conduct falls on this spectrum in this case will very likely ultimately be decided by a jury. Before this case proceeds to a jury, however, the defendants are entitled to a more specific indictment setting forth their conduct alleged to be criminal. [emphasis added]

As background, a fierce campaign has been being waged in California against animal research at the University of California system. There has been a wide range of both legal and illegal tactics. Illegal tactics have included the destruction of UC vans, and an incendiary device was left at the home of a UC researcher.

The FBI and local law enforcement haven’t been able to catch the people responsible, though. They’ve only cracked down on the above-ground activists, like the AETA 4, who protest and create fliers.

The previous version of the law was used to convict the SHAC 7 for running a controversial website that posted news of both legal and illegal actions. This case, the first use of the new Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act, was clearly an attempt to use this sweeping legislation even more broadly against First Amendment activity. This ruling sternly rebukes the government’s attempt to take activists to trial for “terrorism” without even explaining what they have done.

To be clear, though, this case is not over. The government can still re-indict the defendants with an amended bill of particulars that clearly outlines their alleged actions.

This is a victory worth celebrating, and it should also be inspiration for renewed organizing. Corporations and the politicians who represent them have been pushing this “eco-terrorism” and “animal enterprise terrorism” legislation for years, and they will not sit quietly as the flagship case of their pet scare-mongering law is tossed aside.

If prosecutors choose to re-indict, it should be at their own peril; the animal rights and environmental movements must be ready to respond even more loudly, more forcefully, that activism is not terrorism.

Last week a Philadelphia appellate court announced (after months of silence) that it would not revisit the conviction of animal rights activists on terrorism charges. The SHAC 7 were convicted of conspiring to commit animal enterprise terrorism by running a controversial website that posted news of both legal and illegal actions, along with personal information of people connected to the notorious animal testing lab Huntingdon Life Sciences. Their campaign had brought the multinational corporation near bankruptcy.

A three-judge panel of the court had previously upheld the conviction, and the defendants had asked that the full court review it. Now, the only option is to request that the Supreme Court of the United States review the case. There has been no official word about this yet, but multiple defendants have expressed their interest and having this landmark First Amendment case heard by the Supreme Court.

Meanwhile, the lead prosecutor who helped secure this “victory in the War on Terrorism” has– surprise, surprise– been promoted. Charles McKenna is now the head of the New Jersey Office of Homeland Security and Preparedness.

He was quoted a few days ago about his hopes for using new “anti-terrorism technology” in his new job.

“We are particularly interested in computer profiling, which is much more sophisticated, and quicker, than traditional racial profiling,” he said.

The targets of this new profiling technology?

“Jihad, Crips, extreme animal-rights activists, it’s all the same: people trying damage the system,” added McKenna.“We need every trick in the book to avert disaster.”

As you can see in this photo, the SHAC 7 are quite gangsta. But no reasonable person could argue that they are the “same” as violent street gangs and Islamic terrorists.

Such absurd scare-mongering rhetoric has become normal for corporations, industry groups, and the politicians who represent them. When it is adopted by government officials who are in charge of keeping us safe, though, it has frightening implications.

There are limited anti-terrorism and law enforcement resources. When people like McKenna let shameless political opportunism shape security priorities (and make no mistake, this is nothing but political opportunism–he has already been rewarded for defending the “system” from activists), it puts everyone at risk.

Peter Young’s home was raided the FBI this week, and the search warrant repeatedly mentions his name in relation to “animal enterprise terrorism.” In the last article we looked at how this Utah raid is, ostensibly, related to the investigation of an Animal Liberation Front raid at the University of Iowa.

As with all of these cases, though, it’s important to put this in a bigger political context. Few attempts have been made to connect Young to Iowa (the government argued in court that Young was an “associate” of Scott DeMuth, the defendant in the Iowa case, because DeMuth identified someone in his journal as ‘P’).
Young says he has never met DeMuth, a graduate student whose research has included radical social movements.

However, attempts have been made to repeatedly label Young a “terrorist” not for underground crimes like raiding fur farms (which he was convicted of years ago) but for lawful, aboveground, First Amendment activity. For instance, he published The Blueprint, a listing of fur farms in the United States.

Young wrote in the introduction:

While past fur industry investigations focused on the treatment of animals, this one sought something else: names and addresses. Of all forms of animal rights outreach, the dissemination of “names and addresses” is at once among the most overlooked, and most potent…

The fur industry is among the most vulnerable targets in our sights. We rented a car, and set out to create the roadmap to its collapse.

Fur farmers responded by labeling this document, which is listing of public information obtained lawfully and disseminated lawfully, a “terrorist handbook.”

Multiple newspapers in Utah and Wisconsin published stories with industry soundbites along these lines. The Park Record in Utah reported:

“‘The Blueprint’ is a little disturbing. Basically, what ‘The Blueprint’ is, is a terrorist handbook,” a mink rancher in Coalville told The Park Record on Wednesday.

The man, who is in his 20s, spoke to the newspaper at his ranch on the condition of anonymity.

“All this is is domestic terrorism, and I have a target on my back,” he said in the interview. “They’re out there calling death threats in to ranchers. We spend many sleepless nights on the ranch.”

Most times he is armed, the rancher added.

All of this has the effect of increasing fear of animal rights activists as “terrorists,” and legitimizing any subsequent actions such as FBI raids of activists’ homes. As in all of these Green Scare cases, these media campaigns and this raid are, above all else, about instilling fear.

A PETA activist pied the Fisheries Minister of Canada, as a publicity stunt to draw attention to Canada’s seal slaughter, and now a member of parliament says the pieing should be investigated as an act of terrorism.

The Globe and Mail reports that the member of parliament, Gerry Byrne, said:

“When someone actually coaches or conducts criminal behaviour to impose a political agenda on each and every other citizen of Canada, that does seem to me to meet the test of a terrorist organization…”

“I am calling on the Government of Canada to actually investigate whether or not this organization, PETA, is acting as a terrorist organization under the test that exists under Canadian law.”

Ingrid Newkirk, the president of People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals, called it empty posturing and said “It is unlikely to impress anyone who has a heart for animals or who is bright enough to spot the difference between a bomb and a tofu cream pie.”

The whole thing sounds a bit outlandish, huh? Well, unfortunately this isn’t the first time people have called for labeling tofu cream pies as terrorism.

To put this in a bit of historical context, pieings were much more common in the 90s when groups like the Biotic Baking Brigade and others snuck into corporate meetings to lob a pie at a dignitary. The point of the whole thing, of course, is to make a silly spectacle. It’s hard to be taken too seriously when your face is covered with vegan whipped cream.

When corporation and industry groups were calling for an expansion of “animal enterprise terrorism” statutes, one of the claims they made is that the law did not cover “not so savage acts” like pies in the face. Really. Check out this background document on the Animal Enterprise Protection Act. Ultimately, that law was expanded and became the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act.

I suspect this will all blow over, much to the dismay of corporate hacks like the Center for Consumer Freedom, which put out a press release egging the whole thing on. But that’s not the point.

The real danger is that this “terrorist” PR campaign, which has been going on since the 80s, has worked its way to the top levels of government, here and abroad. Regardless of how you feel about PETA, pies or parliament, that should make everyone stop dead in their tracks.

Scarce anti-terrorism resources devoted to investigating tofu cream pies, or threatening to investigate tofu cream pies, are resources better spent keeping people safe from less savory national security threats.

I recently interviewed with Dylan Powell about the AETA 4, Stop Huntingdon Animal Cruelty, Obama, mainstream media, and DC hardcore. I think it turned out to be one of the most interesting radio discussions I’ve been part of, because Dylan is so well-versed on these issues and we had a great conversation trying to pull it all together. Please check it out on the Vegan Police Podcast. And please skip through the section that reveals how much of a nerd I am.

The National Lawyers Guild has a new report on state-level versions of the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act that have been popping up around the country. As I’ve reported here previously, on laws such as the California Animal Enterprise Protection Act, they use sweeping, overly broad definitions of terrorism that are, in some cases, even worse than the federal law. (Here’s one of my all-time favorite blog posts in which a Tennessee lawmaker describes how similar legislation is needed to combat “left-wing eco-greenies.”

Take a look at the full report, and the influence of a corporate front group called the American Legislative Exchange Council: “Beyond the AETA: How Corporate-Crafted Legislation Brands Activists as Terrorists.”

As NLG Executive Director Heidi Boghosian said:

“Although many states considered and outright rejected the ALEC bill soon after its release, there are still signs that parts of the legislation are being incorporated in some states’ laws that equate animal rights activists with domestic terrorism.”

The National Lawyers Guild continues to be out front on these issues, with its publication of a know your rights booklet for activists, and it’s Green Scare hotline, 1-888-NLG-ECOL. And NLG lawyers around the country have been working hard on behalf of animal rights and environmental activists labeled “terrorists.” If you’re a lawyer, please join the Guild. And if you’re not a lawyer, write a check, volunteer, or just drop them a note of support.

The following is a guest essay written by David Naguib Pellow, a Professor of Sociology at the University of Minnesota and faculty advisor of Scott DeMuth:

On November 17, 2009, Scott DeMuth was jailed for contempt of court, since he refused to answer questions posed to him by a federal grand jury in Davenport, Iowa. They were interested in questioning him about his knowledge of an unsolved Animal Liberation Front action in 2004 at the University of Iowa. Scott is a University of Minnesota graduate student and Dakota language student. Scott took a principled stand against the grand jury and paid for it with a contempt charge and, two days later, a charge of conspiracy to commit “animal enterprise terrorism.”

As a sociologist and Scott’s faculty advisor at the University of Minnesota, I am concerned about this case for many reasons. Scott is being targeted because he is a scholar who does research on some of the most important social movement struggles in our society and because of his affiliations with many such activists. In his work, he has researched and/or interviewed numerous activists from Native American struggles for sovereignty and land, and environmental and animal liberation movements in the U.S. Unfortunately, Scott is only the most recent scholar facing state repression whose research focuses on peoples’ movements. The U.S. boasts a long and shameful history of silencing and disciplining academics whose research and teaching emphasize the importance of collective efforts to effect radical social change. In recent years, professors studying various peoples’ movements (including the ones Scott focuses on) have been censored, demoted, fired, and jailed here in the U.S. This is an issue of academic freedom and I believe we should support scholars like Scott because of the importance of this kind of work for rethinking our history and for reimagining what kind of futures we can create for ourselves.

My own research on movements for racial justice, labor rights, environmental justice, and animal and earth liberation suggests quite clearly that the state and corporations spare no expense and rarely hesitate to engage in surveillance, infiltration, and other efforts to neutralize the power and reach of these groups. As a publicly outspoken scholar and activist, Scott DeMuth is at the center of these dynamics and is quickly becoming a force for common ground among people across various movements, organizations, and universities who believe that government power should always be checked and that scholars, citizens, activists, and ordinary folks must enjoy basic rights and freedom from coercion and repression. Support Scott, protect academic freedom, and let’s work to abolish the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act!

Sign a petition supporting Scott Demuth and academic freedom.

David Naguib Pellow is a Professor of Sociology at the University of Minnesota where he teaches courses on social movements, environmental justice, globalization, immigration, and race and ethnicity. His books include: The Treadmill of Production: Injustice and Unsustainability in the Global Economy, Resisting Global Toxics: Transnational Movements for Environmental Justice, and Garbage Wars.

The conviction of the SHAC 7–animal rights activists hit with “terrorism” charges for publishing a website and vocally, unapologetically supporting direct action–has been upheld by a U.S. appellate court. It is a landmark free speech ruling that lowers the threshold of what types of conduct are protected by the First Amendment, and upholds a law that is so broad that it targets civil disobedience as “terrorism.”

As a brief introduction: The “SHAC 7” of Stop Huntingdon Animal Cruelty ran an effective campaign that had the sole purpose of putting Huntingdon Life Sciences, a notorious animal testing company, out of business. The campaign pressured corporations to sever ties with the lab. The SHAC 7 were never accused of breaking windows or releasing animals from labs, but they supported those who did. They published a website which posted news of both legal and illegal tactics, and supported all of it. The website had also posted names and addresses of individuals connected to the corporations targeted.

The ruling was issued today and, although there are many aspects that deserve attention, I want to walk through what I think are by far the most dangerous and troubling implications of this ruling–those related to the First Amendment:

[PDF of the SHAC appeal ruling]

Supporting and facilitating non-violent civil disobedience is not protected speech.

As part of their campaign, SHAC supporters were emailed about “electronic civil disobedience.” The email and message board posts included instructions on how electronically “sit in” on corporate web sites through emails, faxes and phone calls.

Now, one of the benchmarks in First Amendment law is what is called the Brandenburg standard. It holds that even the most controversial and inflammatory speech is protected as long as it not likely to incite “imminent and lawless action.” That is a very high threshold. In this court ruling—which, to the best of my knowledge and the attorneys I have spoken with is the first of its kind—the written word can be construed as promoting, or resulting in, imminent and lawless action.

To put it more plainly: Vocally supporting civil disobedience, explaining what it involves, and encouraging/facilitating people to take part is not protected speech.

This is so important let me say it again, another way: People who write about civil disobedience and encourage people to take part can be found convicted of a crime even if they do not take part in the civil disobedience.

This has dangerous implications far beyond this case. For instance, I wrote about the recent call by mainstream environmental groups for massive non-violent civil disobedience in defense of the environment. Under this reasoning, organizers of that event who published a website aren’t protected by the First Amendment.

[UPDATE: One person had this question, so others might as well: I am not at all saying that simply endorsing civil disobedience is now not protected speech. However, doing so and also facilitating civil disobedience is what the court ruled is not protected. So in the example above, the organizers promoted civil disobedience, encouraged it, set up a website telling people where to go and when, and there were people involved to specifically support those arrested. I think there is a very real danger of that type of conduct being affected by the reasoning presented in this ruling. That is what I had meant by the headline and preceding points.]

Fiery rhetoric is a “true threat” when illegal conduct has taken place in the same campaign.

Another measurement of whether speech is protected by the First Amendment is whether it is a true threat. Throughout the appellate court ruling, the court argued that SHAC’s speech did, in fact, constitute a true threat.

SHAC pressured corporations to divest and sever ties with HLS and “used past incidents to instill fear in future targets” (by publicizing illegal conduct, supporting that conduct). “In this regard, their actions meet the standard of a “true threat” as articulated in Watts, because viewed in context, the speeches, protests, and web postings, were all tools to further their effort.”

The court’s reasoning goes something like this: SHAC wants to close HLS, SHAC supports legal and illegal activity, therefore when SHAC targets a new corporation there is a true threat that the company will be the victim of illegal activity. So SHAC’s speech is not protected.

There are two huge problems with this. The first is that social movements throughout history have had both legal and illegal components. I have interviewed countless activists who only take part in legal protest, but vocally and unequivocally support illegal tactics, and recognize their role in the broader movement. The court argues that it doesn’t matter if you are not breaking the law; if you support illegal tactics, note their efficacy, and believe they play a role in the broader movement and your own campaigning, it is tantamount to a “true threat.”

The second problem is that no action by animal rights or environmental activists in the United States has ever resulted in physical injury or death. Not one. That’s by the admission of the FBI and DHS, along with groups that track animal rights crimes, like the Southern Poverty Law Center. It defies logic how even the most outlandish rhetoric can be construed as a “true threat” that places someone in reasonable fear of physical violence, when the movement has never engaged in physical violence.

The Animal Enterprise Protection Act and “animal enterprise terrorism” charges can be applied to First Amendment activity.

The court ruled that the defendants were guilty of “conspiracy” to commit animal enterprise terrorism because of:

Speech—Josh Harper “wrote editorials and gave speeches praising militant tactics and direct action.”
Running a website—Jake Conroy “designed and maintained multiple websites affiliated with SHAC–the primary tools of the campaign against Huntingdon.”
Protest—Andy Stepanian told Kevin Kjonaas “that he could not explain over an unprotected phone line what protest activity he had planned for the following weeks.” (The court argues that this implied illegal activity).
Computer encryption–Kjonaas and Gazzola used “encryption devices and programs to wipe their computer hard drives” and protect their email. “While alone this evidence is not enough to demonstrate agreement, when viewed in context, it is circumstantial evidence of their agreement to participate in illegal activity,” the court said. To most people, it is evidence of their intent to protect their privacy from FBI spying.

This Ruling is Bigger than the SHAC 7

This ruling is disappointing, to put it mildly, for the SHAC 7 defendants still behind bars. They will serve the remainder of their sentence in prison and, if this appellate court decision stands, be forever marked as “terrorists.”

But this case is much bigger than the SHAC 7, and it is bigger than the animal rights movement. The AETA 4 are facing terrorism charges for chalking slogans and protesting with masks. Climate groups are organizing massive civil disobedience campaigns. These movements continue to grow, and so does the crackdown against them.

This is critical time in American history. Corporations, working alongside ambitious prosecutors, are radically expanding cultural and legal conceptions of “terrorism” in order to push a political agenda. Mainstream animal and environmental groups, the press, civil liberties groups, they have all largely remained silent on this historic case. As a result, this appellate court has issued its sweeping ruling with impunity.

It is all too easy to weaken the First Amendment when it comes to the rights of “radicals” and “extremists.” It is even easier when no one is paying attention.

The recent FBI arrests of animal rights activists as “terrorists” for chalking sidewalks, protesting and making fliers marks a drastic turning point in the Green Scare, and in the history of this country. The government and corporations are clearly hoping to set a legal precedent for the sweeping power of the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act. But these arrests are much more than a test case, or an isolated incident of ambitious prosecution.

These arrests are part of a 5-step process the FBI and other government agencies are using to overtly label First Amendment activity as “terrorism.”

The process has worked something like this:

1. Label. The first step was to label illegal direct action by groups like the Animal Liberation Front and Earth Liberation Front as “terrorism.” The FBI, corporations, industry groups and politicians began doing this in the 1980s, through media campaigns, think tank reports and legislation like the Animal Enterprise Protection Act.
2. Guilt by association. Next, these groups expanded their smear campaign to anyone who ideological supports direct action and economic sabotage. They began labeling the above-ground supporters of those movements as “terrorists.” A turning point was the conviction of the SHAC 7 for running a controversial website that vocally supported a wide range of tactics.
3. More guilty by association. This is now. The guilt by association is spreading from those who vocally support direct action (and, like the SHAC 7, perhaps even publish anonymous communiqués) to those who are merely lawfully protesting as part of the same campaign. In the SHAC 7 case, the government argued that the defendants were “conspiring” to promote illegal activity by running a website. In these recent arrests, the government is arguing that the First Amendment activity itself is “terrorism” because it’s part of a campaign that involves illegal tactics.
4. Expand the net. With the latest arrests, the government is still trying to play up the fact that illegal actions have happened recently in California, including bombings that have been recklessly attributed to animal rights activists. The next step is to completely drop that pretext. In other words, the next step is to go after people who are using their First Amendment rights and are not engaging in home protests, chalking sidewalks or wearing masks. This is the same expansion of the net that happened during the Red Scare: targeting writers, speakers, journalists, and public figures. I feel strange writing this but, in many ways, the next step is to go after people like me.
5. Repeat. This process will be repeated for different organizations and different types of people (activists, non-profit leaders, writers) and it will be repeated for other social movements. The government is not establishing these legal and legislative precedents simply to abandon them once the animal rights “radicals” are imprisoned. The legal latticework will be used against the next social movement, and the next, and the next. This has happened in every era of government repression throughout history: once those in power discover tools for silencing one opposition group, they never stop there.

In analyzing a process like this, it should be very clear that I don’t mean to imply, in any way, that this process is inevitable. The FBI is formulaic in how it cracks down on protest movements—we can see the patterns throughout U.S. history. The responses of activists and everyday people, though, need not follow any formula. The future is fluid. We have the power to intervene in this process—through education, community building, media outreach, lobbying, and the courts—and we must do so immediately, swiftly, and forcefully.

[This was published by Herbivore Magazine in one of their mini-books a while back. I realized I hadn't posted it here, and it's not available anywhere else online. Hope you enjoy it.]

"The World Takes? How corporations and politicians turned animal rights activists into terrorists," Herbivore, Volume 13, 26-48.

By WILL POTTER

On some days in Trenton, N.J., the only thing separating the grey Delaware River from the grey horizon of office buildings and the flat grey sky is a big sign in glowing neon red.

"TRENTON MAKES, THE WORLD TAKES" runs 254 feet across the Lower Trenton Toll Supported Bridge, which spans the Delaware River. The capital san serif letters average nine and half feet tall by six and a half feet wide, and weigh about 300 pounds each. It took four sign technicians, a crane, and $383,427 for Trentonians to adamantly refurbish the dilapidated slogan in 2005. The phrase’s 1,500 linear feet of glass tubing can be finicky. Sometimes an E or an A will burn out. Sometimes an entire word. But when that neon is lit up, Trenton defiantly shines.

The city has maintained that proclamation since 1911, when the Chamber of Commerce held a contest for a slogan that would remind thousands of passengers on Pennsylvania Railroad’s Main Line that Trenton had made it. Steel. Pottery. Wall plaster. Anvils. Mattresses. Bricks. Rubber. Linoleum. Trenton was "the nation’s tire capital." Trenton made the steel rope that held up massive suspension bridges. And Trenton made the world’s largest bathtub, to be used by the massive President William Howard Taft.

S. Roy Heath won that contest, and $25, for "The World Takes, Trenton Makes." But that needed some editing. Who could put the world before Trenton?

* * *

Over the years, the world stopped taking. Through the ’60s, ’70s, and ’80s, Trenton’s manufacturing base eroded. The Roebling wire rope plant, once supplier for the Brooklyn Bridge and Slinky, shut down. The Wire Rope District now exists in name only.

In 1924, about one out of every two jobs in the county came from manufacturing. Now it’s about one out of every 25.

Some manufacturing plants still hum. But the economic backbone of Trenton is now the state government and the pharmaceutical industry. Trenton, and the rest of New Jersey, now depends on making laws and drugs.

Pfizer, Wyeth, Johnson and Johnson, Merck, Sandoz, Glaxo Smith Kline, Chiron, Covance, and 245 other pharmaceutical and cosmetic companies call New Jersey home, according to a directory maintained by Rutgers University. They’re the heavy hitters in "the medicine chest of the nation," as former Governor Christie Whitman called her state.

"What automobiles are to Michigan and oil to Texas," one industry group head has said, "The pharmaceutical and medical device industry is to New Jersey."

Some state leaders fear the nation’s medicine chest going the way of Motor City. The pharmaceutical job market is shrinking by three or four percent in New Jersey, while it increases by 40 percent or more elsewhere. Nevada and Pennsylvania, among others, are trying to siphon off some of New Jersey’s financial flow. CEO Magazine’s "Best and Worst State Report" for 2005 ranked New Jersey 46th. The state must act swiftly to secure its position as the pharmaceutical capital of the world. The neon writing is on the wall.

To the global pharmaceutical industry, though, there’s an even bigger problem brewing in New Jersey. This is ground zero in a new War on Terrorism. It’s here that Huntingdon Life Sciences, the notorious contract animal testing company, is based. It’s here that animal rights activists launched a historic campaign against the lab that rattled the industry to its core. And it’s here, in Trenton, that six of those activists were convicted on "terrorism" charges for attempting to shut down one of the last things New Jersey makes.

* * *

Five undercover investigations inside HLS labs have shown workers punching beagle puppies in the face, dissecting live monkeys and falsifying scientific data. One investigator, Michelle Rokke, wrote in her diary:

"I saw him pick a dog up off the floor by his front leg and toss him in a cage… when he tried to close the cage door one of the dogs tried to get out. He repeatedly slammed the cage door on the dog’s head."

Armed with this information, animal activists in England—the other location of an HLS lab—launched an international campaign called Stop Huntingdon Animal Cruelty. Their goal wasn’t to simply expose the abuse, or call for reform. Their goal was to put the lab out of business.

Following the lead of effective anti-apartheid divestment campaigns in the 1980s, activists knew the only way to change a business practice is to aim for the bottom line.

They brought the company to its knees, primarily through a Wall Street level knowledge of how corporations operate. The SHAC USA website schooled activists in business savvy: primers on investors, market makers, and pink sheets. It also listed home and work addresses for anyone doing business with HLS, from bankers on down to toilet paper suppliers.

Activists took to the streets, the phones, and executives’ homes with bullhorns, phone blockades and plenty of smart-ass, aggressive rhetoric. All actions related to the campaign—both legal and illegal—got posted on the SHAC website: news of legal protests, leafleting, speaking events and video screenings—and also anonymous communiqués.

"Arghh Matee’
In the wee hours of Tuesday, July 24th, we paid a visit to the home of Brian G Rogan President of Capital Markets to The Bank of New York, Plum Point Rd. in Sands Point, LI, NY. 20 holes were drilled in the right side of his 30 foot yacht, and one 6inch by 6inch hole was sawed through the right hull.
Various workings of the boat were also tampered with. As the boat began to take on water it was cut loose and pushed out to sea, we left before confirming whether or not the boat sunk. Both the boat and his personal dock were left covered with painted slogans denouncing BNY’s involvement with Huntingdon Life Sciences, the largest reading ‘money means nothing- life Means everything.’
Upon escape we cut through his estate to his personal Flag Pole, his Amerikkkan Flag was lowered and discarded like the trash it is, and replaced with the only flag that matters, a pirate flag!
For the 500 lives lost today at HLS, and for our brother Carlo Guliani who was shot and killed this week protesting the Group of Eight Summit in Genoa,
Our hearts bleed for you!
The P.A.L.
Pirates for Animal Liberation
HLS thar she blows!"

Other posted actions include subscribing a CEO to porno mags, setting off stink bombs in offices, and paint-stripping cars. They were sometimes crude (calling a church and accusing a CEO that attends of fondling children) and often ominous (phrases like "we know where you live" appear in many communiqués). SHAC unabashedly supported all of it.

It worked. The lab now teeters on the brink of economic collapse, after more than 160 companies, including Marsh Inc., UPS, and Fedex, have pulled out. The New York Stock Exchange dropped HLS in 2000, and the London Stock Exchange followed in 2001.

The tactics worked a little too well. Industry groups and pharmaceutical corporations knew that if activists brought a multinational corporation to its knees, they wouldn’t stop there. Greg Avery, a SHAC UK organizer, has bluntly said as much: "When it closes we will move on somewhere else until all animal testing is banned in this country." HLS is just the training ground, and the pharmaceutical industry knows it.

Industry groups launched a massive scare-mongering media campaign to label activists as "terrorists" for campaigning to put the lab out of business, and to link them—ideologically, at least—with the underground actions of groups like the Animal Liberation Front. Corporations targeted by SHAC hit back with lawsuits and restraining orders, but the campaign kept moving.

In May, 2004, the government and industry groups tried something new. They charged
Kevin Kjonaas, Lauren Gazzola, Jacob Conroy, Joshua Harper, Andrew Stepanian, Darius Fullmer, John McGee and the organization SHAC with conspiracy to violate the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act of 1992. The law got little attention when it was passed except from groups like the National Association for Biomedical Research that pushed it through.

It created the crime of "animal enterprise terrorism" for anyone who travels in "interstate or foreign commerce" (like crossing state lines or using the mail) and "intentionally damages or causes the loss of any property (including animals or records) used by the animal enterprise, or conspires to do so."

The government first used the law in 1998, charging Peter Young and Justin Samuel with animal enterprise terrorism for releasing thousands of mink from Wisconsin fur farms. Samuel pleaded guilty, was sentenced to two years in prison and ordered to pay over $360,000 in fines. Young was on the run for seven years, and then caught in 2005 and sentenced to two years in prison.

Ostensibly, that’s what the law was meant to do: go after the activists who "cause the loss of any property," who sneak into labs and steal/liberate animals. The law, industry groups said, was needed to go after the underground.

* * *

The Department of Justice press release proclaimed, "Militant Animal Rights Group, Seven Members Indicted for National Campaign to Terrorize Company and Its Employees."

"This is not activism. This is a group of lawless thugs attacking innocent men, women and children," U.S. Attorney Christopher J. Christie said. "We will not stand by and let any group or individuals violate federal law through violence and intimidation, no matter what cause they profess to advocate for in the process."

The defendants were never charged with mailing anthrax-laced letters, planting pipe bombs, hijacking airplanes or any action most reasonable people would consider terrorism. And in their 27-page indictment, not once were SHAC activists accused of any of the crimes posted on the website, let alone any "attacking innocent men, women and children." They weren’t charged with smashing windows, gluing locks or breaking into labs. They "conspired" to put the lab out of business by running a website:

"On or about July 10, 2002, a smoke bomb was set off at the offices of a subsidiary of M. Corp. in Seattle, Washington causing the evacuation of a high-rise office tower, and a second smoke bomb was set off at the offices of M. Corp. in Seattle, Washington, causing the evacuation of that high-rise office tower as well. After these events, the SHAC Website posted a report about the smoke bomb attacks."

No activist has been charged with the smoke bomb action. The feds have generally had a hell of a time catching the saboteurs responsible for actions like this. Underground activists have claimed credit for more than 1,200 criminal incidents since 1990, according to the F.B.I., and there are 150 pending "eco-terror" investigations. Law enforcement agents haven’t been able to find the members of the Animal Liberation Front and Earth Liberation Front responsible for the attacks, so they went after those in the spotlight. Think red baiting, with a green twist.

Here’s an example of one of the actions tied to the defendants in the indictment:

SHAC "caused the website www.stephenskills.com to be launched in order to apply pressure on
S. Inc. to cease doing business with HLS."

Apparently these news postings and website launchings were so "terrorizing" that the government couldn’t even name corporations that have been targeted in the indictment. They are only identified by single letters, like "S. Inc." or "M. Corp."

"Because of the nature of the campaign against these companies, we didn’t want to subject them further to the tactics of SHAC," said Michael Drewniak, spokesperson for the U.S. Attorney’s Office in New Jersey, in an interview.

* * *

Activists, reporters and anyone else paying attention can read between the lines. These businesses are some of the wealthiest on the planet: They need no corporate witness protection program. This was one small maneuver in a broader War on Terrorism, to redefine the victim. The victim is not the Beagle puppy being punched in the face because the lab tech can’t find a vein. The victim is not the activist being charged with "terrorism" for defending the tactics of others. The victim is the corporation, whose profits were so ruthlessly assaulted.

Lunch breaks during trial gave jurors and defendants about 30 minutes to find some food and rush back to the courtroom. Even if they had longer, it probably wouldn’t have helped the defendants. Of all the things Trenton makes, vegan food, it seems, is not one of them.

During one break in the trial, I visited the Trenton Federal Courthouse "cafeteria" with some of the defendants. They knew the routine, and so did the woman behind the counter. The "animal rights terrorists" had a special menu, not listed alongside the other items on the rectangular white board with black block-letter stickers.

"Soy hot dog?," she asked, smiling. She snapped on a pair of latex gloves, pulled limp, flesh-colored Tofu Pups from their clear plastic wrapper, briefly microwaved them on paper plates, and plopped them on bleached white bread. We each paid about $4.

"I already feel like I’m in prison," someone said, only half joking. There probably wouldn’t be Tofu Pups in prison.

There wasn’t much talking during lunch. The tactic, I believe, was to finish the Tofu Pup as quickly as possible and leave the crinkling linoleum, folding chairs, and discolored wall paneling behind.

We headed out the door, and toward the elevators that lead back to the courtroom. As we passed the metal detectors, a group of attorneys stopped us. One of them asked: "Are you all law students?"

What else could they be? Not criminals. Not terrorists. Andy wore spotless, tailored three-button mod suits, often with a bright pink shimmering tie. Jake looks like who is: a clean-cut kid from Connecticut more comfortable in cargo pants and a hoodie than court clothes. Darius works as a paramedic in New Jersey. Josh, a filmmaker, would flip through skateboarding magazines or sometimes talk about hardcore bands between court proceedings. Lauren seemed to comfortably fit the law student image, maybe because she had planned on taking the LSAT until cops stormed her house with guns drawn. I glanced at the other attorneys flowing through the metal detectors, trailed by other activists in their own court clothes.

"No," Lauren said, smiling, and without hesitation. "We’re on trial for terrorism!"

The security guard scanning briefcases on a six-foot conveyor belt laughed.

* * *

I sat in the overflowing courtroom for the SHAC7 sentencing, sandwiched between a New Jersey activist and a mustached local reporter. As I watched the six 20-something defendants in their thrift-store court clothes comfort their mothers while standing tall, shoulders back, for their friends, I felt like I was watching history. I don’t mean that in a Red Scare kind of analogy, although that is clearly applicable. I mean that a surreal feeling struck me. In 10, 20, 50 years, young people will look at this trial, just as we look at past eras of repression, and wonder: "How did you let this happen?"

How did we let this happen?

Here’s how a sentencing hearing for a federal case usually works. The judge makes a statement about the federal sentencing guidelines, if they apply, and their parameters. The prosecutors then generally ask for sentences somewhere in the middle or on the high end of those guidelines. Defense attorneys respond with a series of nitpicky points about the sentencing recommendations, using legal jargon the defendants and family members don’t understand, and argue that their client should receive a reduced sentence. Sometimes they submit letters from friends or family members saying that Johnny is a "fine young man" or that Jane is an "upstanding person who made a poor decision." Sometimes defendants say they have seen the light, and realized the error of their ways. Sometimes they cry.

Here’s how a sentencing hearing for animal rights activists convicted of "terrorism" charges for running a website works. The judge made a statement outlining the outlandish sentencing guidelines—higher than most rapists and violent criminals face. The government asked the judge to throw the book at these "extremists." One by one, the defense attorneys fight for a month here and a month there, anything to keep these activists from spending their 30s in prison. The defendants stare ahead blankly. The defense attorneys don’t just submit letters of support, they submit tomes. The judge raises a bound book submitted by Jake Conroy’s attorney, with letters from professors, friends, and activists that say they have been inspired by Jake’s compassion. The judge says she has rarely seen anything like this in any case.

The prosecutors don’t give an inch. Charles McKenna, the chief assistant U.S. attorney for New Jersey, who was the prosecutor in the case, rises from his seat after each speech by a defense attorney, and lets his voice reach a nearly vitriolic fervor.

Some activists laughed, others simply shook their heads at the absurdity of it all.

"Kevin Kjonaas was drunk with power."

"[Lauren Gazzola] had the bullhorn and was clearly the person in charge."

"Jake is not a man of compassion."

Nobody laughed.

Pressed up against activists in the back row, I could feel their muscles tense. A man across the aisle with a freshly shorn head and a sharp three-button suit bit his clenched fist and flexed the muscles in his left hand. I kept the corner of my eye on him, waiting for him to jump from the pew and disrupt this spectacle.

He didn’t. The spectacle continued, with McKenna saying that Jake and the others had "good homes, good schools," and they "chose to throw it all away." He sounded like he was describing bank robbers or meth addicts, not individuals using their First Amendment rights.

The defendants were sentenced to between one and six years in prison.

Activists lurked around the courtroom after the sentencing. Those that were turned away from the overflowing courtroom rushed in to ask what happened. Nobody seemed to know what to say.
The defendants put their game faces back on. They pressed the flesh and thanked everyone for coming. They did their best to remain strong and lift everyone’s spirits. "It could have been worse."

The local press rushed the defendants and prosecutors with skinny notebooks in hand. I felt like such a horrible reporter. What do you say to someone who has just been sentenced for "terrorism"? It reminded me of working the cop shop at The Chicago Tribune, and having to write about murders and dead siblings found in storage lockers, and having to ask people how it made them feel. What a ridiculous question, but reporters always ask it.

Instead I told Josh and Jake that I strongly disapproved of their pastel colored shirts. Josh, who had his sentencing postponed until the next day, asked if I knew someone who had a tie: he ran out of clean court clothes. I started to take off mine, but he just laughed. "Dude, skinny ties are for skinny guys. I’ve got a little bit more to love."

Outside the Trenton courthouse was part press conference part family reunion. Reporters kept asking activists to talk to them about the case and how they felt. "Are you a reporter? I’m not going to answer any of your questions." In this Green Scare, they said, who would want to have their picture in the paper at an "eco-terrorism" trial?

* * *

"This is just the starting gun," proclaimed David Martosko of the Center for Consumer Freedom, an industry front group.

The SHAC7 faced a double-edge sword going into trial. If they lose, they go to prison, and are labeled "terrorists" for the rest of their lives. No more law school. No more working as paramedic. No more graphic design. Nobody wants to hire a convicted "terrorist." If they win, it could be the foundation of an even harsher political crackdown.

But in a testament to the power of the Green Scare, the SHAC7 have been cut by both edges of that blade simultaneously. They were convicted. Yet they are still a threat.

That’s the message of industry groups constructing their most ambitious scare-mongering campaign yet. The Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act has been in the works, in various forms, since 1992. It has always stalled out, usually in committee. But now, bolstered the conviction of the SHAC7, industry groups want more.

Some of the pharmaceutical powerhouses from the nation’s medicine chest have made their presence known in Washington as the architects of this Green Scare. Pfizer, Wyeth, Glaxo Smith Kline, Chiron, and Covance have all backed the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act. The SHAC campaign came a little too close to home. They don’t want to be next.

Industry groups pushed the Animal Enterprise Terrorism Act through the Senate, where it passed by unanimous consent. Not one senator voiced opposition. When midterm elections shifted control of both the House and Senate to Democrats, industry groups knew they had to work fast. They knew that a Republican White House, plus a Republican Senate, plus a Republican House equaled the best chances they’ve had in years to steamroll this bill through Congress.

Their "eco-terrorism" bum rush worked: the law passed the House on the first day back from midterm elections as part of what’s called the "suspension calendar." That’s D.C. speak for a House procedure to usher through non-controversial bills. Only six members of Congress were in the room when the bill passed. Only one, Representative Dennis Kucinich, raised any objections.

Perhaps the best disturbing segment of the whole scare-mongering debacle was when Representative James Sensenbrenner ended his comments, and ended the floor debate, by talking about the American Civil Liberties Union. He said the ACLU is the guardian of the First Amendment. He said the ACLU has a proud history of being a constitutional watchdog. And he said he has a letter, from the ACLU, saying they would not oppose this legislation and had no substantial concerns, essentially giving the Green Scare a green light.

The law created stiffer penalties than the original Animal Enterprise Protection Act and expands its scope to include "any property of a person or entity having a connection to, relationship with, or transactions with an animal enterprise."

One section of the legislation targets anyone who "intentionally places a person in reasonable fear of the death of, or serious bodily injury to that person, a member of the immediate family (as defined in section 115) of that person, or a spouse or intimate partner of that person by a course of conduct involving threats, acts of vandalism, property damage, criminal trespass, harassment, or intimidation."

The problem is that the word "eco-terrorism" is being batted around recklessly by industry groups in a scare-mongering campaign that has included full-page ads in major newspapers and even stooping so low as to call a children’s movie "soft-core eco-terrorism for kids." They are doing everything they can to create this fear through scare-mongering: that’s the point. In light of this political climate, it’s impossible to discuss "reasonable fear," because industry groups are throwing all their weight into making the unreasonable seem reasonable–into making the public afraid of non-violent activists, so they can push a political agenda.

Here’s a very likely scenario: A group of activists holds a loud protest outside an executive’s home or office on a daily basis, as part of a national campaign. Activists yell and chant as people enter the building. Some wear masks or bandanas (which are increasingly common at protests, because activists fear being "blacklisted"). There have also been illegal actions like "vandalism" and "property damage" in the name of the same cause (which has been the case in every social movement, ever).

Activists clearly intend to "interfere with" the operations of animal enterprise. Toss in the climate of fear that industry groups have created, plus the raucous nature of the protest and the fact that it’s part of a coordinated campaign, and suddenly this First Amendment activity becomes "terrorism" under the law (through a "course of conduct" involving harassment, intimidation, vandalism… whatever they can get to stick). Through scare-mongering, the unreasonable becomes reasonable.

* * *

Underground activists won’t lose much sleep over the SHAC trial or this legislation. Their actions are already illegal (and they know it). The government has already labeled them the "number one domestic terrorist threat." And yet they continue to demonstrate that heavy-handed police tactics will not deter them.

Shortly after the sentencing of the SHAC7, anonymous activists sent a communiqué claiming credit for rescuing 23 rabbits from a vivisection lab in rural Massachusetts. They dedicated the raid to the SHAC 7. Six of the rabbits are named Jake, Lauren, Kevin, Andy, Josh, and Darius, after the defendants. (Who knew the balaclava-and-bolt-cutter set was so PR savvy?)

"And while the SHAC-7 will soon go to jail for simply speaking out on behalf of animals, those of us who have done all the nasty stuff talked about in the courts and in the media will still be free," the communiqué said. "So to those who still work with HLS and to all who abuse animals: we’re coming for you, motherfuckers."

Meanwhile, the government and corporations will continue coming for legal, above-ground activists.

Through my interviews with grassroots animal rights activists, national organizations, and their attorneys, I have heard widespread fears that the word "terrorist" will one day be turned against them, even though they use legal tactics. That grey fog of fear has seeped into every part of the movement. It clings to activists’ clothes, to their hair, like the cigarette stench lingering from last night’s drink at the bar. Even the most industrious activists, plugging away at campaign after campaign, have admitted that they can’t shake that fear. And the fog, it seems, is spreading. Some anti-abortion organizations, like the Thomas More Society, have already raised concerns that "eco-terrorism" legislation and rhetoric could become a model for labeling other activists as terrorists.

Other social movements have not rushed into the neon spotlight in the defense of animal rights activists, though, and they probably won’t any time soon. Animal activists have magnificently alienated themselves from other progressive activists, producing stunts and sound bites, costs be damned. Meanwhile, the New McCarthyists have constructed a scare-mongering campaign built not to destroy the underground, but to destroy the animal rights movement itself. It will be up to animal rights activists to challenge the architects of this Green Scare head on, to build bridges to other social movements, and to speak openly and honestly about the fear that, if ignored, could raze everything they’ve created. Until then, others will remain at a safe distance. They will be waiting to see how much the animal rights movement takes.