{"title":"There Has Never Been A 'Timber War'","authors":"G. King","doi":"10.55671/0160-4341.1070","DOIUrl":null,"url":null,"abstract":"here has never been a ‘Timber War’ in California. Rather, in the redwoods there has been an ongoing onesided assault against the forest, and against activists who, in modern times, have risked their liberty and their lives in large part to enforce state and federal laws. This essay is an attempt to demystify the history of this assault and the citizenry’s response to it. To start, it’s important to keep in mind that crimes against activists and public trust resources (water, wildlife, fisheries) have almost always been treated with indifference, or complicity, in California by police agencies, elected officials, and regulators. Beginning in the mid-1980s, violence against activists was regarded as inconsequential, even desirable. Perpetrators of violence enjoyed an unspoken impunity that environmentalists could never hope to achieve. For a war you have to have violence on both sides. This was no war. When someone detonated a pipe bomb under the driver’s seat of Judi Bari’s car in 1990, severely injuring her and Darryl Cherney, rather than investigate the attack the FBI and Oakland Police arrested the pair for ‘transporting’ the bomb. The police agencies would later lose a $4.4 million lawsuit against the pair for violating their constitutional rights. A few months earlier, when Bari reported to the Mendocino County Board of Supervisors that she had received dozens of death threats, including the latest, an illustration of a riflescope superimposed over her face, Supervisor Marilyn Butcher said, “You brought it on yourself, Judi.” A few months before that, Judi’s car was rammed from behind by the same logging truck she had blockaded the previous day. Her young daughters were in the backseat. The car was totaled. When she reported the attack to the Mendocino County Sheriff’s office a deputy told her, “If you turn up dead then we’ll investigate.”","PeriodicalId":84867,"journal":{"name":"Humboldt journal of social relations","volume":" ","pages":""},"PeriodicalIF":0.0000,"publicationDate":"2018-05-31","publicationTypes":"Journal Article","fieldsOfStudy":null,"isOpenAccess":false,"openAccessPdf":"","citationCount":"0","resultStr":null,"platform":"Semanticscholar","paperid":null,"PeriodicalName":"Humboldt journal of social relations","FirstCategoryId":"1085","ListUrlMain":"https://doi.org/10.55671/0160-4341.1070","RegionNum":0,"RegionCategory":null,"ArticlePicture":[],"TitleCN":null,"AbstractTextCN":null,"PMCID":null,"EPubDate":"","PubModel":"","JCR":"","JCRName":"","Score":null,"Total":0}
引用次数: 0
Abstract
here has never been a ‘Timber War’ in California. Rather, in the redwoods there has been an ongoing onesided assault against the forest, and against activists who, in modern times, have risked their liberty and their lives in large part to enforce state and federal laws. This essay is an attempt to demystify the history of this assault and the citizenry’s response to it. To start, it’s important to keep in mind that crimes against activists and public trust resources (water, wildlife, fisheries) have almost always been treated with indifference, or complicity, in California by police agencies, elected officials, and regulators. Beginning in the mid-1980s, violence against activists was regarded as inconsequential, even desirable. Perpetrators of violence enjoyed an unspoken impunity that environmentalists could never hope to achieve. For a war you have to have violence on both sides. This was no war. When someone detonated a pipe bomb under the driver’s seat of Judi Bari’s car in 1990, severely injuring her and Darryl Cherney, rather than investigate the attack the FBI and Oakland Police arrested the pair for ‘transporting’ the bomb. The police agencies would later lose a $4.4 million lawsuit against the pair for violating their constitutional rights. A few months earlier, when Bari reported to the Mendocino County Board of Supervisors that she had received dozens of death threats, including the latest, an illustration of a riflescope superimposed over her face, Supervisor Marilyn Butcher said, “You brought it on yourself, Judi.” A few months before that, Judi’s car was rammed from behind by the same logging truck she had blockaded the previous day. Her young daughters were in the backseat. The car was totaled. When she reported the attack to the Mendocino County Sheriff’s office a deputy told her, “If you turn up dead then we’ll investigate.”