When They Call You a Terrorist

When Cullors returns to Monte’s story, she reveals the systemic injustices at the heart of every stage of the criminal justice system. First, a mild fender bender results in violent arrest and torturous captivity because of Monte’s size, skin color, and mental health issues, according to Cullors. Next, Monte’s legal representation comes in the form of an overworked public defender who all but concedes his client’s case. The prosecution, meanwhile, is so inured to the systematic dehumanization of Black defendants that it allows Monte to appear in court in the midst of a full psychotic break. Had Cullors not possessed a robust network of activists and organizers—not to mention privileged grandparents on Cherice’s side—Monte would have faced life in prison, despite never having committed an act of violence in his life.

Finally, upon reentry, Monte struggles to find a job and stable employment because of what legal scholar Michelle Alexander calls “the prison label,” a form of permanent disenfranchisement that follows an individual for the rest of his or her life. (Alexander, Michelle. The New Jim Crow. New York: The New Press. 2010.) Again, Cullors frames Monte’s experience with the criminal justice system as unexceptional; rather, it is emblematic of what countless people of color face when they encounter the levers of the American legal system.

Even Monte’s torture at the hands of Lee Baca’s Sheriff’s Department is commonplace. The ACLU is not alone in documenting these abuses. In the wake of the 2011 report Cullors cites, countless news organizations including KTLA, LA Weekly, and WitnessLA corroborated these reports. The criticism even comes from within law enforcement; Tom Parker, former Assistant Special Agent in charge of the Los Angeles field office, told the ACLU, “I have never seen anything that approaches the patterns of violence, misfeasance and malfeasance that particularly infects the Los Angeles County jail system.” (Fremon, Celeste. “ACLU Witnesses Detail Shocking Abuse in LA Jails—& Baca Dismisses It All.” WitnessLA. 29 Sep. 2011. https://witnessla.com/aclu-witnesses-detail-shocking-abuse-in-la-jails-and-in-a-press-conference-afterward-baca-dismisses-accounts/.)

The abuse Monte and scores of others suffered while in LAPD custody reinforces Cullors’s theme that young Black men and women are the victims of terrorism rather than its perpetrators. She also points out the irony that the same human rights violations American soldiers infamously committed at Abu Ghraib during the Iraq War—purportedly in the fight against terrorism—were first honed on American soil against the country’s own citizens. Cullors seeks to disabuse readers of the notion that terrorism only constitutes acts of violence committed by non-state actors, as opposed to acts of violence committed by the state against individuals. She further points out the irony that Monte is the one charged with terrorism, when he is in fact a victim of it. While it might seem odd that a man could be charged with terrorism simply for yelling at a person, consider how the 2001 PATRIOT Act defines domestic terror. Under that law, a person can be said to engage in domestic terrorism if he or she commits an act that “appears to be intended to […] intimidate or coerce a civilian population.” (The USA Patriot Act: Preserving Life and Liberty : Uniting and Strengthening America by Providing Appropriate Tools Required to Intercept and Obstruct Terrorism. Washington, D.C.: US Department of Justice. 2001.)

That Monte faced life in prison despite having neither committed nor even been accused of a serious violent act reflects the historical injustice of Clinton-era crime laws, particularly so-called three-strikes laws. Under these statutes, an individual can be imprisoned for life if they commit three felonies, only one of which is violent. While this is designed to lock away violent offenders and deter others from violence, the interpretation of what constitutes a violent crime can be loose. In Monte’s case, his violent crime was the alleged knife guards found on his person while in prison, a dubious charge to begin with. Aside from the disproportionately punitive consequences of three-strikes laws, critics point to how these laws deprive judges of sentencing discretion and create huge costs to taxpayers by filling state and federally funded prisons with largely nonviolent offenders for life. (“10 Reasons to Oppose ‘3 Strikes, You're Out.’” ACLU. https://www.aclu.org/other/10-reasons-oppose-3-strikes-youre-out.)

Finally, the resolution of Monte’s most recent manic episode offers a window into what a world without police—or at least without police in its current form—might look like. Amid the 2020 George Floyd protests, Cullors told Newsweek:

[The police] don’t have to be the first responders to mental healthcare crises, they don’t have to be the first responders to issues around domestic violence, they don't have to be the first responders to presumably every single issue or social ill, like homelessness, drug addiction. (Da Silva, Chantal. “Black Lives Matter Co-Founder Patrisse Cullors Says Current System of Law Enforcement Must Be Abolished.” Newsweek. 5 Jun. 2020. https://www.newsweek.com/black-lives-matter-co-founder-patrisse-cullors-george-floyd-why-its-time-defund-police-1509034.)

Cullors believes this recalibration should only be the first step toward an abolition of the police. However, she also recognizes that building a world without police will be a long process that must be taken one step at a time. Cullors thus reflects the nuance of arguments to defund, divest from, or abolish the police, which are often reduced to simplistic terms by politicians and journalists.