The Last Trial of the Fight Against Mountain Valley Pipeline

Gas pipeline. Last Tuesday, February twenty fifth, twenty twenty five, the last criminal trials from the campaign to stop the Mountain Valley pipeline were held in Parisburg, Virginia. As you might have guessed based on the fact that you've never heard of Parisburg, Virginia, it's a tiny town nestled in the Appalachian Mountains. It's also the county seat of Giles County, Virginia, and it the town is home to almost three thousand people. It's in the southwest of the state, right up against

West Virginia. Culture and geography, of course, both reject things like state lines, though governments are obsessed with them. For ten years, the people of Central Appalachia on both sides of the imaginary line fought against this destructive pipeline. Their campaign tied nonviolent direct action with lawsuits and public pressure campaigns,

and they very nearly won. It took backdoor dealings at the highest level of power to force the pipeline's construction, with West Virginia Senator Joe Manchin holding twenty twenty three's Inflation Reduction Act hostage until President Biden personally guaranteed that the pipeline would be constructed, overriding all of the courts, activists,

and locals who blocked it along the way. Essentially, the ostensible Democrat Joe Manchin said, fine, I'll vote for your climate bill, but only if you fuck over the state that I represent. The pipeline, owned by Mountain Valley Pipeline LLC, was supposed to be built in a year. Thanks to the campaign against it, it took six and a half years to build. It was intended to cost the company

three billion dollars. It costs them more than twice that, which is not bad for a scrappy movement of mountain people, hippies, and punks. It's not bad for a bunch of grandma's and college kids. I'll be covering the full campaign in more details soon on cool People Who Did Cool Stuff. This podcast is instead about the trials. Twelve defendants went before the court that day, eleven of them facing felonies and serious prison time. In the end, none of them

were sentenced to time behind bars. I am happy to say a friend of mine invited me down to cover the trials. Twelve defendants, all in the same day, all in the same courtroom, with the same judge. I said, yes, West Virginia is a bigger state than its own map would indicate because there aren't freeways that run through it, so it takes a very long time to get anywhere. So I packed up my van and headed down on

Monday night. That night, sleeping in my van, I had a stress dream about court, where I'd forgotten to take off my knife before going through the metal detectors and spent a very long time talking to various cops about who I was and why I was there, before being stuck outside the courthouse and a large crowd of protesters surrounded by a large crowd of cops. In that dream, someone who wasn't on either side stood up to give a speech but too near an open flame in his

clothes caught fire. Us anarchists again, I'm talking about my dream here. Aus anarchist rushed to help him while the cops stared on with blank Stairs. We beat out the flames and held his burned body while the cops stared on with blank Stairs. We screamed for someone to call an ambulance while the cops stared on with blank Stairs. I like when my dreams lend themselves to obvious symbolism in this moment, where the apparatus of the state is content to let all of us burn, whether in the

fires of fascism or the fires of climate change. But I woke up disturbed nonetheless, with the sun barely over the horizon. I ate a quick breakfast, and I drove the rest of the way up to the actual courthouse and the actual trial. Fortunately, at the actual thing, no one caught fire. I parked on a nearby street and made my way to the courthouse. It didn't accidentally bring a pocket knife, which is easy for me to do since I usually have three on me because I am

a totally normal human. I did, though, bring an audio recorder, which was equally forbidden in the courtroom. I went through the metal detector and surrendered my little bag with the Zoom recorder. Later, press came into the room and I tried to get my recorder back, but I was told that's real media. Without a press badge, I don't look much like someone who works for iHeart. I settled into a seat and waited for the proceedings. ECO defendants and

ECO defenders both poured into the tiny, dingy courtroom. The ceiling had holes in it, the drywall was sagging. Appalachia isn't extracted from region. A place from which wealth is gathered, not a place where wealth goes. We were reminded repeatedly that the fire code limited occupancy of the roomed eighty nine people, and it sure seemed like they brought in as many cops as they could to limit our numbers.

Many more supporters waited outside. Most of what I did that day was weight in the courtroom, because most of the courtroom drama was happening behind closed doors as the prosecutor, the judge, and the aid or so defense attorneys all argued and fought over the details of plea deals. Most of these characters judge, prosecutor, and lawyers were quite familiar

to the people working with the movement. This was the last trial of many throughout the ten year campaign, which has relied heavily on nonviolent direct action since twenty eighteen. The prosecut in particular, a guy named Bobby Lilly, was a well known figure. Usually when people say things like the prosecutor was a clown, they're speaking figuratively. But Bobby Lilly, the prosecutor is a balloon artist in his free time, and his Facebook is full of photos of all of

his balloon creations. The rumor is that he clowned his way through law school, all right. Which, look, if I wasn't predisposed to not like this man because he was arguing for the imprisonment of people trying to save all life on earth, I would kind of think that's cool. But it does mean that there was a clown prosecution. And some people who were there to support the defendants wore balloon animal hats to mock Bobby Lily, though they were forced to leave those hats outside as no hats

of any kind were allowed in the courtroom. Coming in that morning, we expected most of the defendants to take non cooperating plea deals. They'd already agreed to. Non cooperating plea deals are deals in which the defendant refuses to cooperate with the state's investigation of other protesters. Basically, this means these are non snitching deals a few of the defendants, though we're ready to take their cases to trial, I've decided to largely not use people's names in this reporting.

Those names are a matter of public record, of course, but we are entering unprecedented times, and I don't see any particular advantage in making their names more public than they already are. But do you know what I do want to make public the sweet sweet deals offered by our advertisers. I love making those public. Here they are, and we're back. The charges against the defendants seem politically motivated. This isn't to say the defendants might not have walked

onto pipeline work sites and disrupted activity there. There was certainly a coordinated campaign to do just that, but the charges against them were artificially inflated. I was talking to a supporter during one of the many long interludes in the proceedings who explained to me that nearly everyone on trial that day, and a large percentage of all defendants throughout the course of the campaign were charged with felony

misuse of a motor vehicle aka joy riding. To be clear, no one has been accused of hijacking construction equipment and riding it around. It's just one of the many charges levied at protesters in order to get their bail denied or inflated to tie everyone up in legal proceedings for longer and intimidate people into pleting guilty to lesser charges.

These are similar to the kidnapping charges that a lot of protesters got as well, despite that, well, no one was kidnapped during the course of the campaign, except of course, by the state. Another supporter explained to me, inflated charges has been part of the Mountain Valley Pipeline's legal strategy

all along. The same as protesters look to tie the pipeline company up in court and delay construction, MVP's strategy seems to have been to drag out court cases and keep as many individual force defenders caught up in legal jeopardy as possible. Of course, they shouldn't actually have the means to change people's charges, But if the fight against MVP has taught us anything, it's that the state caves

to business interests every time. Most defendants from the course of the campaign have taken pleas that include suspended sentences so that they never do jail time as long as they promise to never try to save the world from fossil fuel infrastructure. It seems like MVP wants each person who catches charges to be out of the fight, but fortunately Frontline's work is only a portion of the work

involved in defending the earth. When someone told me that this was MVP's strategy to catch everyone up on charges, I wasn't really skeptical because it made sense, but I still had that confirmed for me in the courtroom. You see, a few lawyers or other legal representatives of MVP were present in the courtroom that day, standing at the back of the room, seemingly eves dropping on the courtroom chatter.

Word on the street was that part of their goal was to gather information for the ongoing civil litigation happening against environmentalists. But eves dropping goes both ways, and one supporter I talked to overheard them talking to each other about how they wish they could drag these cases out even longer. Once court began, defendants went up one by one before the judge, most entered pleas of not guilty with stipulation. This is, in essence, a way to accept

a plea agreement without actually accepting guilt. So each person went up pleaded not guilty with stipulation, and then was found guilty by the judge on their lesser charges. The process took three to six minutes per defendant attract it.

The defendants were there for arrests stemming from actions that happened between October twenty twenty three and March twenty twenty four, from three different actions, all on nearby Peters Mountain, a mountain which sits on the horizon of Parrisburg, Virginia, and which defies the border between Virginia and West Virginia. Most of the action from the campaign happened on either Peter's

Mountain or another mountain in another county, Poor Mountain. One action in October twenty twenty three, like I said, court has been dragged out for a very long time, was an action in which one person locked themselves to an excavator while others were there in support. The supporters of the action were facing felonies too, some of them A while back were re arrested at their own arraignments, given

additional charges, and put into jail for days. It's not hard to imagine why the defendants were nervous in the courtroom that day, even though most of them had already seen sorted out their plea agreements ahead of time. The state is fickle, condescending, and unpredictable. One of the defendants that I talked to told me about their own case. The evidence supporting the charges against pretty much everyone was weak, but the evidence supporting the charges against this particular person

were particularly weak. The state kept offering this person plea deals before anyone else. Will you be offering the same deal to my co defendants, the defendant kept asking. The state kept saying no, so the defendant kept refusing the deal. That defendant came to court fully expecting to stand trial rather than take a better deal than what their co defendants were getting. The big story of the day actually

revolves around that particular point. At least one of the defendants who came prepared to stand trial last Tuesday wound up being offered much more generous plea agreements at the last minute because the state knew its case against them was flimsy. Those who accepted non cooperating plea deals were

hit with suspended sentences, community service, and restitution. The details differed from case to case, but in general, people were given a year in prison hanging over their heads if they're caught breaking the law in the next year, and have to spend between fifty and one hundred hours doing manual labor for Giles County, Virginia. I've been told this can range from something benign like painting murals to something intentionally humiliating, like cleaning the toilets at the police station.

The single biggest issue of contention was restitution. The defendants are being ordered to pay for the overtime costs associated with arresting them. One defendant, who was I believe arrested at a mom's against the pipeline's action, a woman who simply wants her children to grow up in a world with a habitable ecosystem, was in court last Tuesday to contest their restitution payments. This is, as I understand it, the only issue that was not fully resolved that day.

The case the defense made was one that I found convincing, though of course I bias in that direction. Essentially, The defense's case was that people are not legally on the hook for the investigation of their own crime, that it would set a very dangerous precedent to have people have

to pay for the cops's time to arrest them. The prosecutor's argument was, and I rudely paraphrase here, yeah, but fuck these people in particular, that because there was a campaign against the MVP, their crimes ought to be treated differently, in the same standard of the rule of law should not apply to them. Again, I'm paraphrasing, but that really was the takeaway that I seem to get. The judge said he would need to consider the case law on the matter and would not rule on it that day.

But you know what he would have ruled on if he was the judge of this podcast. He would have ruled that it is time for advertising and we're back. The only case that actually went to trial, as I understand it, was for the only misdemeanor case of the day, a protester who was accused and convicted later at the end of the trial of spending a couple days living inside a length of pipe to prevent it from being

buried in the earth. The full incompetence of the police was on display from the state trooper who didn't know what the word diameter meant when asked to describe the pipeline in question, to the police, who admitted that they didn't actually bother watching the entrance to the pipe, so they didn't actually see the protester. When they emerged from the pipe. In court, the cop said the protester came up to them to turn themselves in and said, quote, well,

you're lucky, I'm honest. A large part of the defense's case was that the defendant had been denied the right to a speedy trial, which seems true to me. Misdemeanors in particular supposed to move through the court system quickly, not drag on for a year, because again it seems quite likely that MVP has been working and from the start to drag on court cases as long as possible. All the while the trial went on, supporters outside had a table set up in the parking lot with homemade food,

a staple of this movement. As far as I can tell, the connections between the front lines and their supporters built a very strong movement. Indeed, after the trial, an older local man gave a heartfelt thank you to everyone who had put their bodies on the line to protect the mountains he loves, and I went around and talked to people, feeling a bit odd to be there as a stranger

to the movement and as a journalist. Blocking pipeline construction through nonviolent direct action is simple and principle, but complicated in the details. The core of it is that you leverage your own safety in order to prevent construction crews from working. Since your own safety is what you're gambling with, it's well not safe the ideas you put your own

body on the line. In nineteen ninety eight, for example, an Earth First activist named David died when a lagger dropped a tree on him and killed him, and despite ample evidence that the lagger in question had been aware of the protesters and had been threatening them, no charges

were pressed against him. In two thousand and three, an American anarchist piece worker named Rachel Corey was killed in the Gaza Strip when she stood in front of an Israeli bulldozer trying to stop the bulldozer from demolishing a Palestinian home. Even when you aren't murdered for doing it,

the work itself is dangerous too. Shortly before I joined my first forest defense campaign in the Pacific Northwest, an activist named Whorhound had just fallen to her death from a tree sit and her absence was a tangible presence in every meeting and every forest defense camp for years after. So I don't feel like I'm speaking hyperbolically when I say that in that courtroom were some of the bravest people I've ever met, who risked their lives to stop

a clear and present threat against it. And again, I genuinely believe this is not hyperbolic to say clear and present thread against all life on Earth. Climate change could very easily destroy every ecosystem on the planet. This fight is bigger than Appalachia. These forest defenders at this last trial knew that they would likely face felonies where they arrested, and they knew that people have died doing this work

before them. And I don't want to speak to everyone involves gender identity, but it seems likely that some of them were trans as well, and thus risking spending prison time in the wrong prisons, which is a particularly dangerous position to be in. I don't say this to try to scare people out of joining movements like this. I can name people who have died in nonviolent direct action campaigns,

and occasionally people have served real jail time. But I've met thousands and thousands more who have saved wild places, who have built lifelong friendships, and who have proven to themselves that they are who they hoped they would be. I want to end this by reading two statements. One was written by one of the defendants and was posted onto the Ablachians Against Pipeline's Facebook page on March third. You can read the full statement over there if you'd

like quote. Today we proved that co defendant solidarity works. We were able to see how different strategies against a stacked system play out. It is in the court's best interest for us to take a deal out of fear of trial, but today we showed that they are just as afraid of an uncertain outcome, and we can use

that to our advantage when we work together. The people who went to trial or pushed it to the brink got objectively better outcomes than those who took deals ahead of time, and those who took deals often had to struggle with changing conditions at trial, but still felt obligated to comply. I and another defendant held out, in part out of principle for people who had not been offered deals, and in part to say fuck you Bobby Lilly, our prosecutor,

who is a literal clown. My co defendant and I went to bat for another who was not offered a deal at first. My co defendant was offered a deal, rather nice one at that, but my friends said no. The clown blinked. My friend basically went to trial. Technically they took a deal, but they basically started a trial. Prosecution made a motion to amend charges, but abruptly the clown and his cop body left. They ran they had no evidence. Another deal, which was even better, was offered,

and this time I got one too. For me, it was good and an agreement. We took our deals. The one other person was offered an okay deal, but opted to go to trial with eyes open at the courts in competence and crushed it. Little Bobby Lilly looked even more like a clown. Every deal that was offered only got better, especially on the day of the trial. You don't have to accept the first deal, or the second, or the third, or the fourth, and when they try to pit us against each other, it is because they

know we are stronger together. Initially we were charged with conspiracy. The real conspiracy is between prosecutors and the judges, between the cops and the corporations. It is the conspiracy between your landlord and your boss to keep you exhausted and hungry, unable to fight back. It is the dictatorship of the billionaires to keep us bound to their world where they make and break their own rules. This is bigger than a forty two inch wide, three hundred and three mile long,

ticking time bomb running to Appalachia. It is the fact that our lives are bought and sold by the large land owning class who are able to ram this project through under Joe Biden, despite the harm it'll cause, because it will make them money as the world burns. Then here's another statement from the person who sat inside the pipe, and the statement is from last year. Quote. Winning looks so much bigger than just stopping this pipeline. It's a

win through the community folks continue to build. It is a win because of the insane amount of skills that people have gathered and shared. It's a win because whether or not this pipeline ever has gas running through it. The legacy of resistance in Appalachia still lives. Extractive industry knows that they can't fuck with the communities here without going through hell, and we better not let them forget that. Many times in my life I have felt consumed by grief.

Grief for all the places this pipeline has destroyed, for communities who continue to be ravaged by the state and industry, for the senseless violence committed against people and land every day, for friends and strangers forced into cages. But what keeps me moving is knowing that I feel such grief only because I have such deep hope and love for what could be and what we have the power to create.

Find or facilitate radical community wherever you call home, Think about the things you are willing to sacrifice for people near and far. Dream of worlds that feel out of reach, because I bet they aren't as far away as it may seem. That's the end of the quote. And so yeah, though the criminal trials are over, the civil legal fight rages on. MVP is attempting to wield civil courts to silence its opposition. And if you want to help support

that fight, which continues. You can donate to Appalachian Legal Defense Fund, which you can find probably by just searching for it, but you can also find it by going to bit dot l y slash app Legal Defense all one word, no dashes. Anyway, that's it for the episode. I'll talk to you soon.