The award-winning documentary,

If a Tree Falls: A Story of the Earth Liberation Front, premiered at Sundance last spring and continues to screen in theaters across the globe. The film, which aired on PBS earlier this fall and is now available on DVD,
details the events that led to the imprisonment of environmental
activist Daniel McGowan and raises critical questions about ecological
crisis, terrorism, and government repression of political activists.

Those who see

If a Tree Falls are likely to be left with a number of lingering questions.

How is Daniel doing now? When will he be released from prison? What does he think of the movie? Daniel, who is currently serving a seven-year sentence in the Communications Management Unit at FCI Terre Haute
in Indiana, answered some of these questions and others in the
following interview about the film, prison life, and his thoughts about
the future.

Question:

What was it like being interviewed and filmed
while you were on house arrest awaiting trial during such an obviously
difficult time in your life? How present and intrusive where the
filmmakers? Did it add stress to your situation?


Daniel McGowan: It was at times frustrating
and other times, comforting. What I mean is that throughout the period
of house arrest, I felt stifled and unable to be productive. Having the
filmmakers over for half of the day helped me motivate, get out of bed
and organize my day. In that way, it countered the severe monotony of
being stuck in an apartment and helped jolt me out of periods of
depression. The whole experience was surreal – wearing a microphone for
part of the day after being recorded on a wiretap by an informant was
one of these bizarre instances. There were times that I said something
and realized that it may end up in the film! That was disconcerting, as
was the negative impact a camera had on social situations.

Was it a hard decision to agree to be the subject of this film during that time? What did you hope would be the result?

DM: The decision to allow myself to be filmed
would never have been made if I had not previously known Marshall Curry.
I worked for his wife [Elizabeth Martin, founder and former Executive
Director of WomensLaw.org] and knew him somewhat and was familiar with his previous film,

Street Fight.
Originally, my sister raised the issue as I was flying back from Oregon
after getting bonded out of jail in 2006. The thought was basically
that Marshall was considering my situation as a topic for a film and
whether or not that eventually happened, footage of me coming home would
be essential.

Once I got my ankle bracelet, so probation could monitor me, and got
settled in, we spoke at length about his ideas and we took it from
there, setting up some longer background interviews. After a few months,
despite frequent grumblings on my part, I was fully committed to it.

Having seen my indictment announced on cable TV and seeing how we
were all being portrayed as crazy, dangerous terrorists, I felt strongly
that it needed to be countered.

The film to me was a way to challenge the narrative the prosecution
and media put out about us, knowing it was a long-term thing. My hope
was that people would be able to hear my own thoughts and version of
events instead of accepting the mainstream media version, which was
exceedingly shallow and accepting of the law enforcement view.

Were you able to watch the film from prison when it aired on PBS? Do you even want to watch it?

DM: When I found out PBS was going to air

If a Tree Falls,
I was excited that huge amounts of people nationwide were going to view
it. However, I have no intention of viewing it while in prison. There
are deeply personal scenes, especially interviews with my wife and the
day I turned myself in that I want to view by myself, at home. I want to
have the chance to emotionally deal with that in a safe environment.

As the film’s primary subject, what is the number one
effect that you would like the film to have on viewers? In general, what
do you hope the film achieves?

DM: It is difficult to dive into some of these areas
because I haven’t yet seen the film. While I have spoken to many people
who have seen the film, and read many reviews, there really is no
substitute for seeing it myself. That said, I hope people see it and
feel a form of discomfort – not in a bad way, but one that has them
thinking about what they saw for a few days or weeks after. That
discomfort would be because the film challenged previously held ideas,
like what a terrorist is, who the kind of people are that commit
property destruction, and whether the U.S. government really is on the
right path environmentally, with prisons and the isolation of political
prisoners in special units.


What would you like for viewers to know or understand about you, Daniel McGowan, on a personal level?

DM: From what I have heard, the film does a pretty
good job of showing who I am. Friends and family have all commented that
my personality shines through and I credit the filmmakers for editing
all their footage so well! The letters I have received from people who
have seen the film have been sympathetic but I fear people may worry too
much. The film is a snapshot of my life at a time where I mentally and
physically was not doing well at all. That time has passed, though, and I
am in the homestretch now. There’s a huge difference between facing 30
years and having almost completed your sentence. All things considered, I
am doing okay.

The other thing I want people to know about me is that there really
is no major difference between myself and most viewers of the film. Like
them, my circle of compassion is wider than myself and my family.
Similarly, I seek to live my life as close as possible to my ideals,
though like everyone, I fail at that sometimes. On a less serious level,
I love fantasy fiction, singing in the shower, and I am a sucker for
children and animals – I’m pretty sure some of those details never made
the film!

The film ends with your family and friends walking
with you to report to the Metropolitan Detention Center in Brooklyn to
begin your sentence, which began in 2007. If you could add 30 minutes to
the film to bring it up to present day, what would you add to the
story? What are the most important things that have happened since you
started your sentence that the public should know about?

DM: If I could add 30 more minutes to the film, I
would discuss how unusual my stay in prison has been since July 2007. My
friends and I have joked that we should print one of those concert tour
t-shirts but instead of listing the cities that shows were played in,
it would list the prisons I have been at! Let’s just say I have seen
more of the Midwest than I ever wanted to.

After an uneventful 8 months at a low-security prison in Minnesota,
I was held in contempt of court in Wisconsin during a grand jury I was
called to against my will. Once that ended, I was shipped to the
Communications Management Unit (CMU) in Marion, Illinois, where I spent
26 months. While there, I persistently sought a transfer hearing to
dispute the rationale for my placement there, and I also finished a
paralegal certificate. One day I was told to pack up and was released to
Marion’s general population, where I spent 4 months and then was sent
to the hole (secure housing unit). Two days later, I was driven to the
original CMU – FCI Terre Haute in Indiana. I’ve been here since February
2011.

I am not sure to what extent the filmmakers addressed the CMU issue, whether in the film or ‘extras’ on the DVD version.

Two years ago, you wrote an insider’s account of
life in the Communication Management Unit facilities that you have been
housed in for most of the past 3 years. What is life like in these
units? How does being housed in the CMU compare to life in general
population?

DM: The CMU is extremely different than general
population, from my limited personal experience. For starters, the
Bureau of Prisons has moved people to these units since 2006 without any
form of due process. There have not been any hearings, evidence
presented, or any real methods of issuing a grievance about the issue
(other than asking for reconsideration from the very same people who
have moved me here). This is one of the main issues we sued about in our
civil lawsuit, Aref v. Holder.

There is extensive monitoring of all contact between CMU prisoners
and the community, whether it’s phone, visits, mail, or email. A
separate part of the BOP exists in Washington, D.C. that monitors all
our communications. In addition to monitoring, there is a drastic
reduction in our communications that has resulted in widespread anxiety
and disruption to familial relations.

Prisoners in the CMU are given two 15-minute phone calls a week that
must be scheduled a week in advance and take place within a specified
time slot. Comparatively, most prisoners in the prison system can use
300 minutes a month. In the CMU, we have two 4-hour non-contact visits a
month. There is a no physical contact allowed and the call takes place
over a phone so that it can be monitored and recorded. Our visit room
has a small glass window with bars in addition, which seems excessive.
This is clearly one of the crueler aspects of our placement here. Many
of my neighbors have chosen not to have their families visit. Their
children do not understand why they cannot hug their father when some
had contact visits at previous prisons. Most prisoners in general
population receive up to 8 visits a month, up to 8 hours a day, where
they can sit with their loved ones, hug and kiss their children, share
food and play games.

If there is a good aspect to the CMU, it’s the people. Many of the
men here are highly educated, considerate and generous. We share our
magazine subscriptions, watch BBC news and football, and lend a helping
hand to those in need. The unit is highly diverse, multilingual and
there are quite a few men who got raw deals from overzealous
prosecutions. At the end of the day, it’s prison and living so close to
others creates annoyances. Ultimately though, things here are resolved
through dialogue.

In the movie, when describing your political awakening,
you say: “I had never seen with my own eyes what kind of world we lived
in. I feel like I’m in perpetual mourning and I have been from the
moment that… I kind of took the blinders off and was like, ‘Holy crap
what the hell are we doing?'” Do you still feel this? And how do you
deal with this deep sense that something is wrong in the world, now that
you are in prison?

DM: Yes, I would say I still feel this way, though
ten years later, I am better able to deal with the frustration that
comes with seeing the world like that. When I first got involved in
activism, around 1997, I felt like I was exposed to so much, so fast.
Part of this was due to where I got involved – at the (now closed)
Wetlands Preserve bar, which had an extremely active environmental
activism center. Each week, I learned about new injustices and due to my
pragmatic nature, felt a desire to put my energy into combating them. I
still very much feel we are on a very ill conceived path but I tend to
be calmer about what I see and realize that one person, by himself,
cannot do everything.

Prison, and I would say finding yourself in a legal case, has the
effect of narrowing one’s focus. This is a dynamic that occurs due to
the need to focus on your day-to-day survival and well-being. In this
environment, no matter the cordial relations you may have, you are truly
on your own. Your emotional, physical, and mental well-being is your
responsibility. This focus on the self inevitably changes how you deal
with events occurring outside the walls. It used to frustrate me to no
end that I stuck in here while my friends were out there, able to work
on issues we both care deeply about. Ultimately, what I learned (and I’m
not suggesting this concept works for everyone) is that you fight
injustice where you are. Can I, as a prisoner of the United States,
really be an active participant in outside campaigns? No, of course not –
though I am more than happy to share my opinions. I have done what I
can, while in prison, to counter the injustice I see. Sometimes, this
means refusing to believe what I have read about a prisoner and judging
him on his actions and from what I see. Other times, it’s more concrete,
such as soliciting the aid of various legal organizations to address
the CMUs. I share what information and resources I can so people can
effectively and legally fight their cases.


Do you think it’s a better or worse climate for
environmental activism now in 2011 vs. 2001 when the actions you are in
prison for occurred?

DM: Since I have been in prison for four years now,
it is truly difficult for me to judge the state of environmental
activism in 2011. When you are free, you learn about and absorb
information in a totally different manner than when you are imprisoned.
In here, I rely on what I read and the viewpoints expressed in letters
by friends and family. This leads to very spotty analysis, since the
information I do receive is so subjective. Unfortunately, many
publications have ceased publication or gone all-digital since 2007 and
there is a dearth of high-quality environmental publications. Also, the
majority of people I correspond with are not heavily involved with
environmental campaigns.

That said, I cannot say environmental activism is in a better
position now, in 2011. So much has happened since 2001 that bodes poorly
for progress in environmental activism. I was amazed at how the BP oil
well disaster played out, how in the aftermath, there were calls for
accountability on the part of BP but as time went on, it petered out. BP
set up a reimbursement fund and a bureaucratic and lengthy process by
which people could be compensated. No talk was made of restoration to
the Gulf or reparations for the environment or non-humans that that rely
on a healthy ecology. In fact, within months, BP handled the PR
struggle well and blunted public anger. The environmental movement was
unable to change the long-term dynamics of deep oil drilling, and
business has gone on as usual already.

Another example where I feel the environmental movement is worse off
in 2011 is in countering well-funded and articulate public relations
campaigns for the coal, tar sands oil, and hydro-fracking industries. As
scrutiny increases on one form of polluting and carbon-producing
source, for example coal, the response is to highlight another source of
energy, which is usually no better than the first. Coal dust spills
lead to people saving on coal, which leads to nuclear being portrayed as
carbon-neutral. The Fukishima disaster occurs, leading people to get
fuel from tar sands oil from Canada. The process continues, yet we never
move toward healthier and sane sources of energy, or more importantly,
any fundamental questioning of the consumer driven culture that requires
such insane amounts of energy.

Do you think at all about what your life will be like when you are released?

DM: Being relatively close to release, I often find
myself thinking about life on the outside. A lot of my thoughts focus on
employment, halfway house, probation and serious things like that.
Also, I find myself daydreaming about spending time with my wife,
playing with my nieces, traveling, eating good food and being able to
play music – loud and whenever I want! I try not to romanticize these
things and fall into thinking life will be problem-free on the outside.
It’s hard because prison is just so bland, negative and soul killing
that life outside feels heavenly.

When do you expect to be released from prison? What
are your hopes and ambitions for life after prison? What challenges do
you think you will face? What do you fear?

DM: As things stand now, I should be released to a
halfway house in New York at the end of 2012. Then, after a few months
of adjustment (which entails a job and getting passes home), I’ll go
home and begin 3 years of “supervised release”. After four years in
prison and many hours spent in reflection, I have loads of ideas on what
I’d like to do. Primarily, I want to get on my feet, spend quality time
with my wife, family, and friends, and seek out meaningful employment.
My hope is to work as a paralegal or communications director for a
non-profit engaged in issues I care about. Prison reform is one of these
issues as is urban agriculture, the struggles against homophobia and
the marginalization of activists in the U.S. I have ideas for different
projects and campaigns, most of which are long-term and involve books,
dumpster-diving and “free-cycling.” How’s that for vague?

The challenges most on my mind are the preconceived notions and
biases of potential employees as well as people I meet – who do not know
my past. I have no interest in hiding my history, if that were even
possible. Realizing that people may judge me based on being a ‘felon’ or
having been convicted of arson and erroneously being labeled a
terrorist is a tough pill to swallow. I don’t want to be mired in this
though and instead, I plan on devoting time and energy to campaigns that
seek to de-stigmatize felons and remove the barriers that deny us full
personhood in this country. Remarkably, in 2011, there are many states
you cannot vote in once convicted of a felony and thus, there are more
than 5 million such disenfranchised people in the U.S. today.


If you could ask everyone who sees If a Tree Falls to do one thing, what would it be?

DM: This is a tough question because I loathe the
idea that somehow, my suggestion would be relevant or suitable for
people reading this interview. In the context of this film, I would ask
everyone to be skeptical in how they perceive the words and message of
the U.S. government and mainstream media. You can see by watching the
film that the issues presented – about terrorism, tactics, environmental
politics, incarceration – are more complex than how you will find them
portrayed in governmental press releases or the newspaper. When I see
the way that I have been presented in the [mainstream] media, even I
don’t like myself! It’s truly important for all of us to consider the
intent and political goals behind those crafting the messages we are
exposed to daily. I am really appreciative of anyone who took the time
to see the documentary and question the hype around cases like mine. You
can learn more on my website and on Facebook.

This interview was conducted by friends of Daniel McGowan
in the fall of 2011. An abbreviated version of this interview also
appears on Huffington Post [www.huffingtonpost.com/daniel-mcgowan].