The notion of justice for all, one of the bedrocks of this nation, does not mean you receive the outcome you are seeking. It simply means that all have equal access to the system and an opportunity to state their case in front of a jury of their peers or a judge.
That is the bottom line in the stunning verdict that acquitted seven people who earlier this year staged an armed occupation of the Malheur National Wildlife Refuge in southeastern Oregon. After a 41-day standoff with law enforcement, protesters were charged with conspiracy to impede federal workers from discharging their official duties through the use of force, intimidation or threats. Last week, jurors found that prosecutors had not proved the conspiracy charges.
Justice typically contains more gray area than black and white, and an explanation from Juror No. 4 in the trial has been instructive in understanding a judgment that surprised even the defense attorneys. “Don’t they know that ‘not guilty’ does not mean innocent? …” the juror wrote in an email to The Oregonian. “It should be known that all 12 jurors felt that verdict was a statement regarding the various failures of the prosecution to prove ‘conspiracy’ in the count itself — and not any form of affirmation of the defense’s various beliefs, actions or aspirations.”
In other words, in the minds of the jurors, the prosecution failed to prove its case, never mind the despicability quotient of the defendants.
Undoubtedly, the verdict is disappointing to those who believe in law and order, but it is a reflection of our system at work — warts and all. The fact that it might embolden other protesters who wrongly feel they are on the right side of a grievance should not, could not, play a role in the decision that took place in a Portland courtroom — which out of necessity looked only at this singular case. The Malheur protesters were nothing more than common thugs playing cowboy who were wrong on the law and wrong in their actions and wrong in their interpretation of the U.S. Constitution, which they egregiously molded to fit their purpose. But if the prosecution did not prove that a conspiracy had taken place, the protesters deserve to be treated as innocent.
For the rest of us, however, the situation sheds light upon this notion of justice to which we cling. On the same day as the verdict in the Malheur case, 141 people — mostly Native American — were arrested while protesting a proposed oil pipeline near Standing Rock Sioux Reservation in the Dakotas. Law-enforcement officers from at least seven states employed military-grade anti-riot equipment to break up the protest, and some participants were shot with rubber bullets or sprayed with fire hoses.
This stands in sharp contrast to the hands-off patience that authorities employed for more than a month as the Malheur bullies took over a federal facility. As Aaron Bady wrote in a guest column for the Los Angeles Times, the Malheur occupation was “farcical, a protest against an imaginary threat conducted in symbolic terms. The Standing Rock protest is concrete; it seeks to stop a real pipeline and a real environmental threat.”
There are other contrasts, as well; no two situations are identical, inevitably separated by nobility of cause, impact of action, and level of disruption. But each situation speaks to the nebulous ideal of fairness to which we aspire yet often fail to attain. All of which leaves us, in the end, with a reminder that justice for all must be more than words and must be reflected in the attitudes and actions of this nation.
