Nonviolent Activists on Trial For nonviolent activists with a strategic perspective and a commitment to revolutionary transformation, life is an ongoing struggle for disengagement from the existing structures and processes of patriarchal society. We simply cooperate less and less with existing institutions of oppression and exploitation as we work to create alternative processes to put in their place. For instance, we may identify the total inadequacy of an institution such as Parliament - which is patriarchal and hierarchical while being neither truly representative nor accountable - and refuse to offer our vote of endorsement. The simple act of vote refusal liberates us to explore more creative ways of transforming human society than that offered by choosing between elites. Sometimes, however, there is a tension between the advantages of not cooperating and those from using the institution as a forum for consciousness raising. The Judiciary is one example. While it is clear to me that the Judiciary is a structure that must be replaced; it is one with which committed activists get all too many opportunities to interact! Given my experience with courts to date, I have serious reservations about cooperating with trials. And yet, by doing so thoughtfully, I am conscious of its political value. It can be used to raise the consciousness of court officials, the police, the media and others who are present; it can be used as a way of drawing politically inactive lawyers into the struggle; and it can be used to help activists overcome their fear of 'authority' if court appearances demystify the legal system. While I am not convinced that these advantages always outweigh the disadvantages of putting quality energy into formulating creative but usually doomed court defences, my sense is that it is a part of the process that activists need to experience in order to fully liberate themselves. In any case of course, the campaign can 'win' even if the activists are found 'guilty'. "You can jail the resister, but not the resistance." It is clear to me that the law and justice do not intersect - if they did, the courts could not be silent on such questions as the legality of nuclear weapons, environmental desecration, species extinctions and the systematic starvation of Third World peoples. However, if I am going to court, I like to make certain that the campaign which put me there - rather than some arcane legal point - is the focus of court proceedings. Here is an example. On Wednesday 16 May 1990, thirty-two members of the Melbourne Rainforest Action Group stood trial following their attempt to reload the rainforest timber ship Arawa Bay on 18 November 1989. We were charged with 'climbing the port security fence' and 'disobeying a police directive'; each offence carried a maximum penalty of $2000. We had decided not to contest the police case on technical grounds but to base our defence on our beliefs and conscience; therefore we had an agreed set of facts with the police prosecutor which stressed the nonviolent nature of our action. We had also decided to defend ourselves and arranged to do so collectively - members of the group accepted responsibility for different sections of the proceedings. We obtained legal advice in order to prepare our legal submission so that our defence was sound in law. This ensured that the Magistrate was obliged to hear all our evidence and could not dismiss it preemptively. After the court preliminaries, each one of the thirty members present gave evidence on their moral convictions concerning the threat to the global rainforest heritage, the threat to tribal peoples, the threat to non-human species and the threat to future generations posed by the industrial logging of rainforests. We turned the courtroom into a 'Council of All Beings' where the unheard cries of those who suffer most were put before the court. We posed the question: where does the law stand on the great environmental issues of the Age? For the law or justice? For evolution or extinction? We drew attention to Australia's role in rainforest destruction through its importation of rainforest timbers from South East Asia. After each activist gave evidence, the prosecutor cross-examined us. Following the evidence, we presented our legal submission. In summary, it drew attention to the two legal grounds of our defence: firstly, we did not have a 'guilty mind' or 'evil intention' when we climbed the fence, but rather an honest and reasonable belief that we had a moral imperative to be on the wharf in order to act to halt Australia's role in the destruction of the world's rainforests. Secondly, we acted out of 'necessity' in view of the 'irreparable evil' and 'imminent peril' which we were trying to prevent. The Magistrate was very receptive. He adjourned the court for fifty minutes in order to consider his verdict. On his return to court, he started by thanking us and stressing that the court was neither a political nor moral one; and he could only make judgments based on the law decided by Parliament and interpreted by higher courts! He found us 'guilty'; offered us a good behaviour bond of just two months and when this was refused, fined each of us a token $50 on each offence. Most of us will not be paying the fine and will spend a brief time in jail. The court was packed out with activists, supporters and the media and the story was run on two television stations, radio and in the press. By the end of our day in court, it was evident that more people, including police, court officers and reporters, were thinking more deeply about rainforest issues after hearing moving testimony from members of the group throughout the trial. The final verdict? We 'lost', but the rainforests 'won'. Robert J. Burrowes