A Jailed Eco-Revolutionary Speaks Out

In 2000, 21-year-old Jeff Luers and an accomplice set fire to three pickup trucks at a dealership in Eugene, Ore., to bring attention to gas-guzzlers' contribution to global warming. They were promptly arrested. Luers, who refused to plea bargain, was sentenced to 22 years, eight months in prison. It is the longest term ever handed down for environmentally motivated sabotage in America -- and far longer than sentences given to arsonists in Oregon who have destroyed more property and endangered peoples' lives.

But Luers' sentence may be surpassed if any of the upcoming trials of 11 people arrested in January for eco-motivated arson and vandalism yield convictions. Though Luers' crime was minor by comparison, his case serves as a precedent: the fact that one of those arrested, Daniel McGowan, used to run a website for Luers was raised in an attempt to deny McGowan bail.

Because Luers is already in prison and knows he is under total surveillance, he is willing to speak his mind on eco-sabotage as few others are. He regularly issues communiqués from prison through a website maintained by outside supporters, and co-published Heartcheck in 2005, a prison zine that sounds a call for unflinchingly hands-on eco-revolution.

But Luers' ability to communicate more widely with the outside world has been hampered by the authorities. He has been classified as a member of a "security threat group" -- a measure designed to disrupt gangs, but applied in Luers' case to his anarchist and environmental affiliations. Restrictions on his communications have frustrated many reporters, but we were able to interview Luers over the phone from Oregon State Penitentiary -- the first interview he's given in nearly a year.

Gregory Dicum: How do the latest arrests change the landscape for radical action?

Jeff Luers: This is pretty much the make-or-break point for the radical ecological movement in this country. A lot of people are scared and intimidated right now. They're either going to fall apart, or they're going to come together and show that, no matter how many arrests are made or how hard the government tries to crack down on dissent, the people aren't going to be quiet. That's what people need to do: whether or not they support radical action, they can't be intimidated into silence.

GD: Did your conviction serve as the deterrent it was apparently intended to be?

JL: Unfortunately, yeah, I think it has -- particularly in the local community that I got arrested out of. There's been a noticeable decline in underground activities, and part of that is the harsh sentence I received. But I think part of that is also the fact that we had a lot of people who put their hopes into easy solutions. It looked like it was going to work for a while: there was a huge galvanization of the public after [the WTO protests] in Seattle in '99. But the actions stopped. There was a lot of pressure from the police forces on separating unions and radical activists, and everything just kind of collapsed.

GD: Coming out of that period, "eco-terrorism" was identified by the federal government as one of the biggest threats to the nation, right alongside things like al Qaeda. Did you consider yourself engaged in terrorism when you burned those trucks?

JL: If someone believes I'm a terrorist, I don't think there's anything I'm going to say that's going to change their mind. When you look at the use of the word today, "terrorism" is basically a way to define armed struggles you disagree with.

GD: What is it that you are struggling for?

JL: The biggest thing I'm trying to achieve is a change in social conscience. Our society operates under an extreme capitalist system that is completely unsustainable. You can't take a limited amount of resources and exploit it infinitely and expect it to continue to yield the same results year after year.