LABELLED WITHOUT A CAUSE
LABELLED WITHOUT A CAUSE
The Unjust Branding of 'Peacefully and Patriotically' as Domestic Terrorism
TERROR STRIKES CAPITOL HILL
In the early afternoon, the hallowed halls of democracy reverberated with the sounds of chaos and terror. The country watched in disbelief as reports flooded in of an attack on the very seat of its government. Images of civilians turned assailants, the air punctuated by shouts and the acrid smell of gunpowder, and the sanctity of the Capitol breached. The nation held its breath, witnesses recounted the armed insurgents demanding a radical change, ready to sever a piece of the Union for their cause.
As details emerged, the public's shock intensified. They had stormed the building with a clear plan and a shocking audacity that spoke of careful preparation and a deep-seated resolve. The assailants, their faces set with determination, had turned what began as a regular day into one of infamy, their actions casting a long shadow over America's history. This was not just a protest; it was an armed assault, with the intent not just to make a statement but to force a reckoning.
It would be easy to assume this was another retelling of the January 6, 2021, Capitol riots – an event still fresh in the collective memory of a nation grappling with its implications. The parallels seemed apparent, the rhetoric of secession and the audacity to take arms against a symbol of national unity. Yet, this is not the tale of a demonstration forced to take on the label of 'insurrection,' but a long-overlooked chapter from the past.
Here, the narrative shifts from the familiar footage of 2021 to the black-and-white imagery of March 1, 1954. The armed individuals were not dissidents in a divided contemporary America upset with a blatantly and boldly desecrated election, but rather members of the Puerto Rican Nationalist Party. They had infiltrated the Capitol not with flags and banners but with guns, opening fire on the House floor, wounding five representatives in a desperate bid to draw international attention to their cause for Puerto Rico's independence.
"Free Puerto Rico!" a shout from the visitor's gallery echoed across the chambers before shots rang out.
The reverberations of gunfire in the Capitol on that March day in 1954, and the sight of representatives wounded by bullets, is a scene etched in the annals of history, yet not as widely known or discussed as the more recent Capitol breach of January 6, 2021.
This was terrorism in a form that many today are unaware of, a stark reminder that the Capitol, a symbol of American democracy, has witnessed actual extreme violence before.
In 1954, the attackers, including Lolita Lebrón, who stood resolute in her defiance even as she was apprehended, shot and wounded members of Congress.
"I fired eight bullets, I think," she bragged afterward, "I know the bullets I shot didn't kill nobody."
One congressman, Alvin Bentley, was critically injured. Astonishingly, these individuals, who brought guns into the Capitol and used them with lethal intent, later had their sentences commuted. President Jimmy Carter, in a controversial act, released these Puerto Rican nationalists from prison in 1979, an act that mirrored President Truman's commutation of a sentence given to another Puerto Rican separatist who attempted to assassinate him in 1950, killing a police officer in the act.
Throughout the annals of American history, the U.S. Capitol has stood not only as a bastion of democracy but also as a stage upon which the tumult of the nation's conflicts have played out, from the ashes of war, like the British incursion and subsequent burning in 1814, to the shadows of domestic terrorism marked by bombings and gunfire. These episodes are stark testaments to the fervent political fervors and disputes that have, on occasion, breached the boundaries of discourse, spiraling into outright violence, some of the most egregious of which include:
August 24, 1814: During the War of 1812, British forces burned the Capitol along with other government buildings.
April 1828: A fight in the Capitol Rotunda led to the establishment of the United States Capitol Police.
January 30, 1835: Richard Lawrence attempted to assassinate President Andrew Jackson at the Capitol but his pistols misfired.
April 17, 1850: A heated debate led Senator Henry S. Foote to pull a pistol on Senator Thomas Hart Benton.
May 22, 1856: Congressman Preston Brooks caned Senator Charles Sumner in the Senate chamber.
February 5-6, 1858: A massive brawl broke out on the House floor during a late-night session.
July 2, 1915: Eric Muenter, a German spy, planted a bomb in the Senate, causing damage.
March 1, 1971: The Weather Underground bombed the Senate wing, causing significant damage.
November 7, 1983: A bomb planted by the Armed Resistance Unit exploded in the Senate, causing extensive damage.
July 24, 1998: A gunman killed two Capitol Police officers in an attempt to enter the Capitol.
September 11, 2001: United Airlines Flight 93 was believed to be targeting the Capitol when it crashed in Pennsylvania.
April 2, 2021: Noah Green, a zealot follower of the Nation of Islam, rammed a vehicle into two Capitol Police officers, killing one of them.
Fast forward to 2021, where individuals who entered the Capitol on January 6th acted more akin to lost tourists than armed insurrectionists, but are pursued with a vigor reflective of the label "domestic terrorists."
The website Sedition Hunters claims over 3100 individuals were inside the Capitol that day, with many facing constant legal surveillance, eventual apprehension, and imminent prosecution. Report after report over these past three years shows the FBI is pursuing anyone who demonstrated peacefully. The tactics used to apprehend these individuals, including the use of pre-dawn SWAT raids and long-term intelligence gathering, suggest the federal government has authorized the same methods used to pursue actual violent terrorists.
We now can confirm at least one person, being held in solitary confinement in a foreign country, has been assigned this label by the FBI.
THE FBI, THE PSYCHOTIC EX, AND SOLITARY CONFINEMENT
In the unfolding collapse of the American empire under the derelict direction of president Joe Biden, "Cranson" emerges not as the name found on a birth certificate, but as a moniker chosen to shield the identity of a man caught in a web of political turmoil.
Ensconced in the limbo of international asylum-seeking, his true name remains concealed to protect him while his precarious and unpredictable predicament plays out on foreign soil. His journey from the tumultuous chaos of a pandemic-riddled 2020, to the stark isolation in solitary confinement in a foreign land unfolded like a modern-day odyssey, marked not by adventures, but by an unrelenting quest for safety and justice.
As his story continues, it serves as a stark reminder of the thin line between exercising one's rights and the spiraling consequences that can follow, bearing in mind that, as of this moment, there does not appear to be a warrant seeking his arrest.
The aircraft's wheels make contact with the runway of Juan Santamaría International Airport, "Cranson," weary from his odyssey of escape, stepped onto Costa Rican soil. The date is now January 31, 2024. His journey is now a full three months long. What he hopes will mark the end of his tribulations, however, is just another chapter in his ongoing saga. Seeking refuge from what he perceives as a hostile government, he approaches customs with a simple plea for help.
Cranson finds himself surrounded by immigration officials, between him and them, not any two speak English fluently. His plea, so alien coming from a citizen of the first-world, echoes repeatedly before they fully understand what he is asking for. The concept of an American fleeing the perceived land of plenty, where hard work once guaranteed prosperity, seemed an anachronism. Yet, the mythic America of yesteryear, portrayed with white picket fences and idyllic family dinners, has faded. A new era has emerged, where working towards a 'great' future has stirred deep divisions led by a despotic unelected elite, a cabal that is failing every task they attempt, under their moniker "build back better."
The routine checks — a scan of his documents, fingerprints, and retina — morphed into a thirty-minute eternity, ending with the grim news delivered by a solemn official. Cranson's name had been flagged. Despite his clean record, he was to be deported.
The reason given was only that a 'flag' had shown up on a report from the U.S. For the next 24 hours, he was to be guarded in a deserted terminal under the watchful eye of a security guard. His dismay was palpable, a stark contrast to the perseverance that saw him through the Swiss Alps' refuge camps and illness. His meticulous planning, which had once outsmarted the threat of repatriation, now seemed futile.
Unbeknownst to Costa Rican Immigration, Cranson had already reached out to a compatriot familiar with the oppressive gaze of the FBI.
Through his friend-from-afar, a seasoned immigration lawyer was secured, poised to meet Cranson at the airport the very next morning. His mother, fueled by maternal resolve, abandoned sleep to craft a declaration for his impending refugee process.
When morning arrived, the lawyer stood at Gate A, awaiting authorization to meet with his client, and Cranson, hearing the news, informed the immigration officials nearby that his counsel was ready to see him.
Yet, once he put in the request, the officials suddenly disappeared, leaving a void, a silence that did not sit well with anyone.
Time stretched interminably as Cranson and his attorney encountered the bureaucracy's seemingly unmovable inertia; the day slipped by with an attorney and a stranded refugee. This was a violation of his civil rights, the blatant refusal by authorities to allow him to meet with his counsel. His attorney, ever-loyal yet thwarted by rigid protocol, retreated as the day's opportunities dwindled.
Finally, Cranson had had enough! In a resolute bid for his rights, he walked past security and confronted immigration officials himself. The ensuing dialogue offered a glimmer of reprieve - his immediate deportation was not impending. However, this came with the stark condition of being forced to move into a cell of solitary confinement at the airport for the remainder of his time in Costa Rica, regardless of the necessary time it would take immigration to determine his eligibility. An interview was scheduled for the next day, potentially heralding a turn in fortune. It seemed in this moment that fates could shift in less than a day's time, and Cranson could be walking out of the airport a free man. The sparse comforts of his solitary confinement that night paled in comparison to the burgeoning hope of liberty that sustained him through the uncertainty.
In the morning, the interview did not go as hoped.
"just finished my interview with Andres. He said I basically have a ZERO percent chance of being able to stay in Costa Rica."
The interview was a punch to the gut and a kick to the face. The likelihood of remaining in Costa Rica was virtually nonexistent. The confinement to solitary — a reminder of the same tactics used by the authorities against their political foes in a now seemingly unrecognizable America — was his to bear.
"I came up flagged as a domestic terrorist on the report they got back."
Marked as a "domestic terrorist" without a shred of evidence or legal warrant, Cranson faced the stark reality of a punitive label. It was a designation without due process, one that chased him beyond borders, thwarting his quest for a fresh start.
"I will likely be denied refugee from any and every country on the planet."
"Costa Rica immigration has confidential information that you are wanted for terrorist acts"
A defector from behind the Iron Curtain has commented that Cranson's case shows a level of despotism not found even in communist Romania. Lady Liberty seems to have taken on a darker, more vindictive persona: where once she stood as a symbol of freedom and hope, she now appears as a psychotic ex-girlfriend hellbent on following any man who dares walk out the door - to the ends of the Earth, if need be - and ensure he never finds solace in his separation. In the old Soviet Union, the border was a near impossible line to cross, yet, once a person succeeded in that task, his old life was left behind, forever
FROM THE SOURCES' MOUTH
"No one from J6 has been charged with a terrorism charge."
Kyle Seraphin, endowed with intimate knowledge of the Federal Bureau of Investigation's clandestine corridors, surfaced in 2022 as a whistleblower, casting a stark light on the shadows of the establishment. His tenure within the counter-terrorism division unveiled a realm where the boundaries of morality blurred, where the tactics deployed often veered into entrapment rather than the solid ground of bona fide law enforcement.
“The FBI’s playbook when it comes to counter-terrorism investigations is always and unequivocally morally equivalent to entrapment" - Kyle Seraphin, former FBI agent
Seraphin's allegations suggest a dissonance between the public image of the FBI and its actual practices, especially regarding the pursuit of domestic extremism. His decision to speak out, rooted in a deep moral conviction, sheds light on what he perceives as corruption and politicization within the bureau, marking him as a figure who dared to challenge the narrative from within.
“There is no requirement for an allegation of a crime to happen for someone to open a national security investigation. None. There doesn’t have to be an underlying crime at all,” Seraphin has said.
Around the time frame of January 2021, Paul M. Abbate was serving as the Associate Deputy Director of the FBI, overseeing all personnel, budget, administration, and infrastructure, as well as leading notable investigations. Given the scope of his duties, he has substantial influence over hiring trends, budget allocation, and the strategic scaling of departments, which can directly affect the bureau's direction, including along political lines.
Thus, when an email found its way to his desk one week after January 6, it should be taken as a dire harbinger for the nation. The email, laced with cavalier and audacious language, dared to label those who had gathered in protest with a term as grave as "organized group of domestic terrorists."
This email could potentially influence a wide range of internal policies and operations at the FBI, especially those pertaining to personnel management, resource allocation, and the hierarchical ordering of investigative endeavors. Abbate's position holds considerable sway in shaping the FBI's administrative and operational direction, which includes influencing hiring practices, departmental budgeting, and the overarching strategic initiatives of the bureau.
The mere contemplation of a communication that cleaved the bureau's operatives and offices into categories of 'red state' and 'blue state', and that hinted at an ideological schism within, heralds a departure from the FBI's foundational impartiality. Such rhetoric threatens to morph the agency from a guardian of equity into an instrument of partisan will, tacitly condoning the transgressions of one faction while zealously prosecuting the dissent of another.
Merely a month after the commencement of what would become the most extensive manhunt and operation in the nation's history, Paul Abbate ascended to the role of Deputy Director of the FBI. Occupying this eminent position, second only in command within the Bureau, he was bestowed with stewardship over an expansive domain that spanned both domestic and international investigative and intelligence operations. Under his aegis, vast segments of the citizenry would find themselves designated with the label of “Domestic Terrorists”.
Abbate was to anchor his leadership upon a 'robust system,' to 'methodically track' these individuals, tracing their footprints with precision.
This clandestine designation, once ascribed, was to be disseminated across the echelons of government, permeating all levels of jurisdiction, and extending into the realm of the private sector.
[Note: White House FACT SHEET -National Strategy for Countering Domestic Terrorism, dated June 15, 2021]
Upon delving into the intricacies of Cranson's predicament, Kyle Seraphin offered a nuanced perspective, explaining that "no one from J6 has been charged with a terrorism charge," while clarifying that "they have threatened some with 'terrorism enhancements.'"
He explained the probable designation that flagged Cranson's file was a 266o: Anti-Government / Anti-Authority Violent Extremists within the 266: Acts of Terrorism in the United States – Domestic Terrorists classification.
[Note: 2019 FBI Investigative Classifications report obtained by Foreign Policy]
THE MAKING OF A GREAT ESCAPE, AGAIN
An open border works both ways...
The act of crossing a border is, by its very nature, not one to be undertaken lightly or without deep consideration. It demands a profound engagement with forethought, meticulous planning, and a deliberate intent. Yet, for countless economic migrants, bribed, convinced, or tempted by the promise of prosperity, this solemn passage has transformed into something almost reflexive.
The queues that snake around official entry points and the less regulated trails of the hinterlands now bear a striking resemblance to the bustling throngs found at amusement parks, devoid of the once palpable risk of being turned away by the very border guards now ushering them in.
How did it come to this? As a young person navigating the tumult of 2020, the world Cranson knew unraveled before his eyes. The sudden shift — from routine freedoms to lockdowns, from in-person connections to digital isolation — felt like a jarring plunge into an alternate reality. The year's relentless cascade of medical madness leaving families in ruin, further exacerbated by the flames of social justice movements that set cities ablaze without consequence, instilled a profound disquiet within his soul.
Amidst the electoral fervor and the unfolding of each successive narrative, a pervasive sense of betrayal enveloped him. The future he had envisioned was now veiled in uncertainty. The day of January 6, 2021, was possibly the final day to unite with his fellow citizens, an occasion to lend weight to the disquiet that pervaded the voice of the president besieged by doubt about the legitimacy of the election.
Herein lay an avenue, however narrow, to elevate his voice from the silence that had engulfed it and the voices of seventy-five million others, a collective yearning for audibility amidst the cacophony of a world in organized upheaval.
Amid the tumult and turmoil, Cranson stood as a silent observer, his camera lens chronicling each unfolding scene. From the impassioned oration of the president to the swell of the crowd, his journey through the hallowed corridors of the Capitol was one of quiet reverence for the architectural grandeur before him. At no juncture did his actions veer into violence or disruption; rather, he tread softly through the sacred halls, a mere spectator.
This digitally recorded journey starkly contrasts with the Puerto Rico Nationalist extremists who actively opened fire within the Capitol, aiming to disrupt and harm in the pursuit of political upheaval. This stark dichotomy highlights the difference between passive observation from the fervor of active, violent rebellion seeking to forge political change. The relentless pursuit that shadows him to this day, speaks volumes of an agency that is more motivated by politics than by the principles of impartial justice.
In early 2023, the FBI was sending agents to the old residences of Cranson, homes he had not lived in for some months time. Inquiries into his whereabouts began, first with his cousin's roommate and then with a former landlord, neither instance accompanied by allegations of wrongdoing. These encounters, rather than seeking direct communication with Cranson, seemed orchestrated to cast trepidation over those closest to him, revealing a preference for intimidation over dialogue. The invalidity of any excuse in not locating his current place of residence is made abundantly clear by the uninterrupted use of bank cards, cell phones, and an extensive online presence.
This surveillance, devoid of formal accusation, culminated in an alarming directive - in October 2023, upon learning of a significant financial budgetary boost for the FBI, an amount of $300 million dollars, a portion of which was to help intensify their hunt for January 6 participants, Cranson decided to vanish.
He untethered himself from all devices, relying on paper maps to navigate to the southern border. Embarking on foot, he crossed into the void, propelled by the dual forces of fear and the pursuit of liberty.
This escape to freedom was marked by a series of providential events that felt nothing short of miraculous. Upon attempting to board a flight from Mexico City, Cranson was issued a boarding pass printed with the dreaded Quad-S, "SSSS," signaling heightened security. The subsequent examination of his passport flagged him in the system, summoning forth an immediate cadre of federal agents. He was ordered to stand away from the regular line, and a far-off dialogue was taking place that sowed doubt about whether he would be allowed to leave. In an act of serendipity, his boarding pass disappeared while en route to his gate.
This loss had the hallmarks of divine intervention. Cranson was directed to secure a replacement for his missing boarding pass, where he was mistakenly issued a new one intended for an elderly Mexican man. Thus, he was ushered aboard, allowing him to fly from Mexico City to Paris, and then from Paris to Zurich, each leg of the journey a step further from the pursuit and closer to the sanctuary he sought.
His quest for freedom transitioned into a grueling test of endurance upon his declaration of asylum in Switzerland. Surrendering his passport initiated a harsh chapter in frigid mountain-top refugee camps, where he was engulfed in a sea of diverse faces, all seeking the sanctity of Europe. Amidst the cold, disease, and overcrowding, Cranson faced the unwavering stance of Swiss authorities - America, in their eyes, was infallible. His presentation of evidence met with skepticism, a stark reminder of the pristine international perception of U.S. justice. The cold indifference of the Swiss camps contrasted sharply with his relentless pursuit of sanctuary, a journey marked by the bitter realization that seeking refuge from the world's beacon of democracy would cast him into limbo, challenging his every conviction.
Denial and sickness marked his two months in the Swiss refugee camps. Despair loomed larger still with the pronouncement that he was to be cast back across the ocean to the shores of the United States. His passport would be withheld from him until after his arrival. Several days of intense pushback, steeped in the fervor of legal righteousness, culminated when Cranson ordered a plane ticket for Costa Rica. The authorities, confronted with the unwavering resolve of a man armed with the knowledge of his rights, capitulated. The ploy worked! He was afforded the liberty to chart his ultimate course.
FORGOTTEN HISTORY, FORGOTTEN TERRORISTS, WITHERING REFUGEE
On the day of Donald Trump's inauguration as President of the United States, January 20, 2017, Washington D.C. witnessed significant violence and destruction. Black-clad activists clashed with police a few blocks from the White House, in an outburst of violence that was rare for an inauguration. At least 217 people were arrested due to the melees. Demonstrators, some in masks, threw rocks and bottles at officers who responded with tear gas and stun grenades. A notable moment of violence included a protester throwing an object through the window of a police van. Activists also shattered the windows of a Bank of America branch and a McDonald's outlet.
Multiple vehicles were set on fire, including a black limousine.
Protesters dragged garbage cans into the streets and set them ablaze, with one incident involving a red cap bearing Trump's "Make America Great Again" campaign slogan thrown into the flames. Officers were injured in the ensuing violence.
Despite the widespread violence, all 217 people arrested ultimately had their charges dropped.
During the Black Lives Matter riots in Washington D.C. in May 2020, significant destruction and fires were reported. Notably, St. John's Episcopal Church experienced a fire set around 10:30 p.m. on May 31, 2020. This incident occurred amid widespread protests and was highlighted by chaos near Lafayette Square Park, where protesters started bonfires and destroyed federal monuments.
Reports came in of buildings on fire, tear gas deployment, and fireworks as law enforcement pushed protesters back. Despite the widespread violence and arson used, in order to intimidate the public and the government into changing political policy, the vast majority of news organizations reported the events as, "mostly peaceful."
In the wake of a Capitol bombing merely two months prior, the May Day Protests of 1971 unfolded, marked by an extraordinary display of civil unrest linked directly to that very act of terrorism. Yet, the government's response to this profound disruption — affecting thousands, embroiled with the specter of violence — was met with a notably restrained legal approach. Of the staggering 12,000 souls ensnared by the law's broad net, virtually all found themselves released, their potential charges being dropped.
A mere 79 faced the gavel's final judgment, a fraction minuscule against the backdrop of mass detention that filled the likes of RFK Stadium.
This leniency shown in all of the proceeding demonstrations that resulted in massive disruption, damage, and injury, stands in stark contrast to the relentless pursuit and prosecution of those entangled in the events of January 6, illuminating a disparity in treatment that raises profound questions about consistency, justice, and the weight of ideology in the scales of law.
None of the incidents listed, or any others in U.S. history, including January 6, justifiably warrants labeling tens of thousands of peaceful protesters as "domestic terrorists" just by virtue of their presence at a protest or event.
Democratic principles and legal standards, both in the United States and internationally, emphasize the importance of distinguishing between individuals who engage in violent acts with the intent to intimidate or coerce for political purposes (which could fall under the definition of domestic terrorism) and those who are exercising their rights to freedom of speech and assembly in a peaceful manner.
It is the responsibility of law enforcement and the legal system to identify and prosecute those specific individuals responsible for acts of violence while respecting the rights of the majority who are protesting peacefully.
Labeling peaceful protesters as domestic terrorists is a misuse of the term and a violation of the constitutional protections afforded to free speech and assembly. It also represents a significant overreach of legal authority and is an attempt to suppress dissent and discourage civic participation. Despite this happening, there are no legal challenges, public backlash, or condemnation from human rights organizations.
The entire fabric of society, woven from threads aligning with governmental interests and the interests of the elite, stands collectively implicated in the grievous tragedy that tears families apart with this silence, laying waste to the existence of industrious, honorable, and contributive citizens.
Each day Cranson spends in confinement peels away layers of his former life, revealing the stark truth of his predicament. The declaration that he had a "zero percent chance" of finding refuge echoes a resounding finality. Days will roll on, and Cranson will continue to be devoid of basic human comforts. He has now been tormented in solitary confinement for a week, not bathed, without a towel, without a moment of privacy - a guard standing over him 24/7.
It seems a foregone conclusion that the hands of a government he no longer recognizes are inching ever closer. If such is the treatment in his absence, one can only speculate the fate that awaits upon his reluctant return.
In democratic societies, the right to protest is a fundamental aspect of civic engagement and a mechanism for the public to express dissent and demand accountability from their government.
The ongoing effort to label peaceful protesters en masse as domestic terrorists, affecting potentially tens of thousands of individuals like Cranson, is contrary to these principles and has no precedent in U.S. history to justify this gross overstep in authority and punitive action.
We’ll keep you updated on Cranson’s story over the coming weeks. Please share this far and wide! There are many others out there, just like Cranson, who don’t have a voice or a way to amplify their plight and their bids for freedom.