Tag Archive for: Proud Boys

From emptywheel: Please help support Brandi’s important coverage with a donation to the site.

There was a moment outside of the Capitol on January 6, 2021, when Proud Boy Travis Nugent turned to Proud Boy elder and leader in the neofascist network, Ethan Nordean, and asked him: “Are we doing this?” 

Then, Nugent testified this week at the seditious conspiracy trial unfolding in Washington, D.C., Nordean said nothing. But he watched Nordean move toward the Capitol and ahead to barriers thinly held—for that moment—by a scattering of police already wildly outnumbered by the crowd. 

“You felt shocked but you still knew you were not supposed to go past the barriers?” Assistant U.S. Attorney Conor Mulroe asked Nugent, both of his hands resting on the edge of the courtroom podium as he leaned in toward the witness on Monday. 

“Correct,” Nugent replied. 

His voice was quiet, as it so often was as he testified throughout the day. 

“So you fell back on the chain of command?” Mulroe said. 

At almost a whisper though Nugent’s mouth was near the microphone in the witness box, he testified: “Fair statement.”

And then, Mulroe elicited, Nordean just looked at Nugent. Two years after that day, Nugent struggled to recall “exactly what totally came out” in that moment between the men as they stood in a thick crowd surrounding the Capitol. But he did remember Nordean looking at him, unresponsive to his question: Are we doing this?

When Mulroe asked Nugent whether he remembered asking Nordean a more specific question next— “are we going in?”—Nugent wasn’t sure. 

But he knew he didn’t need to be told to follow when Nordean moved ahead and though he agreed with the prosecution that he is the final arbiter of his own decisions, he still rested his hand on Nordean’s shoulder as they moved together toward metal fencing that would very soon be ripped from concrete and broken into pieces. 

Tensions in the crowd were high, he recalled. Nugent remembered feeling uneasy. 

Yes, he said, it was true that he asked Nordean to get on a megaphone and try to calm the crowd. Yes, he said, he even went so far as to approach a police officer on site and request to borrow that officer’s bullhorn. Yes, he agreed, if they could just get their hands on that megaphone and have a Proud Boy speak to the masses, a person the crowd would respect because this was a crowd that respected and adored Proud Boys, there might be a chance to turn the temperature down. 

But that chance didn’t come. When Nugent was interviewed by the FBI on May 5, he told them Nordean wouldn’t listen to him. 

“I don’t think that was my exact words but it was along those lines,” he told the jury Monday. 

He would go no further with Nordean and he didn’t enter the Capitol on Jan. 6. He said “correct” when asked if he understood that day that if he went ahead, he would be breaking the law. Nugent said he understood their presence interfered with police. But, he said, he didn’t know at the time what politicians were doing inside the Capitol. 

Nordean stayed after Nugent left and to his knowledge, Joseph Biggs, one of Nordean’s co-defendants in the now ten-week-long trial, stayed too. 

Nugent has not been charged with any crimes and it was the Proud Boys who called him as their witness with the aim of having the Washington state, fourth-degree Proud Boy tell the jury only of how there was no plan on Jan. 6 to stop the certification and that members of the group showed up merely to air their frustrations and support Donald Trump’s grievances, as well as their own, over a “stolen election.”

When Nugent came under direct from Nordean’s defense attorney Nick Smith, his answers were brief and amenable to those core arguments, even if, at times, it seemed any rehearsal or preparation for his testimony may have already gone stale in Nugent’s mind. 

As a member of Henry Tarrio’s specially-created Ministry of Self Defense text channel where Proud Boys frequently discussed Jan. 6, and as a member of the group’s Boots on the Ground chat just for those Proud Boys on-site on Jan. 6, Nugent was privy to communications that prosecutors have said are integral to the alleged conspiracy to stop the certification. 

When Smith questioned Nugent, he steered clear of what the witness may have seen in those communications, keeping his questions generic and short-lived. 

Nugent did tell Smith, however, that when he met with Proud Boys at the Washington Monument before heading to the Capitol on Jan, 6, he didn’t remember what was said as the group congregated. Present there were defendants Biggs, Nordean, and Zachary Rehl. 

He had partied the night before with Nordean and other Proud Boys at an AirBnB, he testified. A lot of people drank heavily. The next morning hangovers were in abundance. He told Smith he couldn’t recall what was said on the night of the 5th but there were discussions, he said, about what would happen the next day. 

The group met at the Washington Monument and by the time they had moved from the Monument to a smattering of food trucks near the Capitol to eat, Nugent told Smith the Proud Boys, and in particular, Ethan Nordean, had said repeatedly they just wanted to go back to their hotels or AirBnBs to relax for the day. A conversation ensued among Proud Boys at the food trucks too but Nugent told Smith he couldn’t recall whether it was then that a “decision was ever really made” about where to go next. 

He described it as “chaotic” and struggled to pin down particulars. The situation, he offered, “devolved” quickly. 

When Proud Boys went to the nearby Peace Circle next, Smith didn’t work to fish out specifics. 

He, like Mulroe, elicited that Nugent was “shocked” when people started going over barriers at the Peace Circle and prompted by Smith, Nugent said it felt “spontaneous.” He told the jury, he “just didn’t know it was going to happen.” People were taking pictures of them that day wherever they went and although Nugent and Nordean stayed close to each other and often conversed, Nugent couldn’t say whether Nordean brought up using force at the Capitol as they marched toward it. 

“I kind of perceived the whole thing as a photo op,” Nugent said. “A publicity stunt.” 

 He later told Smith Proud Boys were “pushed up” by the crowd into areas he knew they shouldn’t be. 

Like the cows, pigs, and chickens that Nugent raises, he said, it was a “herd mentality.” 

Then, touching on another core theory from the defense—that Proud Boys were incited not the other way around—Nugent testified that a man who introduced himself as a pastor had approached Nordean and asked Nordean to go through the barriers. Nugent recalled Nordean had “basically denied” the request but Nugent had no further particulars. 

When Smith asked him about a rowdy man in a star-spangled jacket—identified as Proud Boy Chris Quaglin of New Jersey—who appeared to be in an altercation with police, Nugent in one breath told Smith he could see Nordean grabbing the man as if to stop him but in another breath, Nugent testified that he couldn’t get a clear read on what was actually happening. It was just his perception, he said, that Nordean was trying to stop the man. Quaglin now faces multiple charges, including assault. He has pleaded not guilty. 

After the 6th, Nugent stayed in the Proud Boys text channels for a day or two. He suggested to members that the chats be deleted. He was worried, he testified, that “antifa groups” would infiltrate the chats and doxx him or others. He was “highly doxxed,”he said. 

Under the friendly glow of direct examination, Nugent, in sum, aligned himself with the defense’s narrative: Proud Boys weren’t at the Capitol on Jan. 6 to incite violence or to force their will. 

But once Mulroe began asking the questions, evidence emerged of Nugent celebrating violence and in particular, the violence exacted by the Proud Boys.

That evidence included an illustration of Proud Boys strangling people, the animated eyes of their victims bulging. This was found on Nugent’s Google drive. He admitted, there were times he also celebrated the aggressive use of force. He admitted that violent propaganda videos showing Proud Boys clashing at events or at rallies or in the streets were effective recruitment tools. And when Mulroe asked Nugent if Proud Boys, like himself, recruited people aggressively to “attack people he didn’t agree with,” Nugent affirmed. 

And key to the prosecution’s argument that Proud Boys developed a growing disdain for law enforcement in the run-up to Jan. 6 that fueled the intensity of the violence that day, Mulroe showed jurors a series of texts where Nugent urged Proud Boys less than a week after the 2020 election that they couldn’t allow cops “to become social justice warriors.” 

Most cops were “good dudes,” Nugent wrote on Nov. 9, 2020, but if they chose to “play games” then it would be “time to play.” And if necessary, Proud Boys would turn their back on police, he added. Other text messages showed Nugent discussing how Proud Boys shouldn’t “wear colors” or their traditional black and yellow, at events. He testified this could help them conceal their identities in public. 

This direction was one Tarrio had handed down to members for pro-Trump rallies in November and December 2020. And the same directions came down in the group’s “New Ministry of Self Defense” channel on Jan. 6, 2021. 

That channel was created after Tarrio was arrested on Jan. 4 for burning a Black Lives Matter banner and included many of the same participants as the original Ministry of Self Defense chat like Biggs, Nordean, and Rehl. Nugent testified on cross that he told Proud Boys the original chat should be nuked. They knew police had Tarrio’s phone and they worried, he said, that chats could potentially come into law enforcement’s hands.

With Tarrio arrested, it was Proud Boy Charles Donohoe who told the “new” ministry on Jan. 6 what to do, where to meet, and importantly, not to wear colors. Less than a week before that text from Donohoe, jurors saw messages where Nugent told Proud Boys “the big thing with this event is we need to get everyone focused on the goal of the event and not getting Proud Boys their fourth [degrees].” 

In another Ministry chat dubbed “MOSD Main 2,” Nugent worked to fill the vacuum left by Tarrio’s arrest. It wasn’t his idea, he testified, but he told the group they needed to fall under Nordean. People looked up to Nordean, he said in court this week. He was a leader. It was fair, Nugent agreed, to describe Nordean as having a “heroic” reputation among Proud Boys because of his fighting skills. Namely, for his “punch heard round the world.” (Prosecutors were unable to persuade presiding Judge Timothy Kelly to admit footage featuring the punch that made Nordean famous among the far right.)

Nugent wasn’t a hero like Nordean, he testified. He was a “nobody.” 

“I’m nobody but I’m doing what I can to help my brothers,” Nugent wrote in a text on Jan. 5 in the MOSD Main 2 chat. 

They were “working a plan,” Nugent wrote. They would meet in the morning and continue on with the plan, he added. Things had clearly “went south” after Tarrio’s arrest, Nugent wrote, “but they are continuing on with it tomorrow.” 

When Mulroe asked Nugent about his use of the word “they,” Nugent said it was a “grammar mistake.” 

Though he had told Smith he couldn’t remember much, and in particular, the meeting at the AirBnB on the eve of the attack, he told Mulroe “yes” when asked if they discussed tactics for Jan. 6, including using radios, breaking into small teams and following the command’s leadership. 

“Even if you didn’t fully understand the plan, you were supposed to follow?” Mulroe asked.

“Fair statement, yeah,” Nugent replied. 

In addition to Nugent’s testimony, jurors also heard from defense witness Michale Emanuel aka Michale Graves, a former singer from the punk band The Misfits. Graves became a Proud Boy in 2020 and traveled to D.C. for Jan. 6 though he didn’t march on the Capitol. 

The only plan Graves could speak of was a plan to play a concert at an AirBnB on Jan. 5. That concert was moved to Jan. 6 after Tarrio was arrested. On the 6th, Graves sang the National Anthem at a Latinos for Trump rally in the morning, and then, he testified, he and the Proud Boys had considered going back to the AirBnB around 3 p.m. to hang out before Graves’ nighttime performance. 

Graves told defense attorneys on direct he wanted the concert because it would “keep people off the street.” Yet, despite all testimony about the concert, he told Assistant U.S. Attorney Jason McCullough on cross, he and the Proud Boys didn’t communicate on Jan. 6, really, at all. The only text he sent to Nordean on Jan. 6 was a singular “I’m safe” long after the Capitol had been breached. 

There was no apology for missing the show and no discussion otherwise found. 

When McCullough began grilling him about his conduct on social media, Graves grew defensive. He had posted messages online saying Proud Boys were having lunch when the Capitol was breached. Graves said he may have read that in a media report. 

“And you told the public that Nordean and Biggs did nothing wrong?” McCullough asked. 

Graves said so online, but in court, he conceded that maybe they had trespassed. 

“What I know is a fact is there was not some elaborate plan to take over the Capitol on Jan. 6,” he said before acknowledging that he was never part of the Ministry of Self Defense chat nor Boots on Ground chats. 

On Tuesday, the defense’s third witness, Proud Boy photographer Eddie Block took the stand, his service dog, a St. Bernard named Donald J. Trump, at his side. 

Block told defense attorneys that Proud Boys didn’t come to Washington on Jan. 6 with plans for violence or to interfere with police or the certification. 

“No sir,” he told Nordean’s attorney Nick Smith, “we were just there to get our voices heard.” 

Proud Boys only engage in violence when they need to self-defend, he said. They only brought radios to D.C.  on Jan. 6 purely because they were worried about being able to “scout antifa out” and warn each other if “antifa” were spotted. From the stand Tuesday, Block said he believes antifa had a large presence at the Capitol on Jan. 6. This has not been supported by any credible evidence. Block told jurors it was a “gut feeling.” 

A self-proclaimed documentarian, Block filmed Proud Boys, including the defendants, marching on the Capitol on Jan. 6. He thought they would get as close as they could to the barriers but not past them, he said. Appearing to play things down further, Block said for two weeks before Congress met to certify the election, “everyone was saying you gotta storm the Capitol” on social media. “Normies” would use that phrase all the time, he added. 

Prosecutors have argued that “normies” and Proud Boys alike were tapped by the defendants on Jan. 6 as “tools” of their alleged conspiracy. In effect, prosecutors have argued Proud Boys needed more muscle and more numbers than they had available to stop the certification and knew it. 

Like Nugent, Block testified that Jan. 6 was a full day of photo opportunities for the Proud Boys. Block fawned over Joseph Biggs, calling him a hero and telling jurors on Tuesday anyone would want their picture taken with the former InfoWars contributor because he had won a Purple Heart. 

As Smith guided Block through video clips from Jan. 6, the same arguments emerged: there were mysterious men in the crowd who appeared to speak to the defendants before the breach kicked off. (Ray Epps has been pointed to indirectly and directly with zeal by defense attorneys over the course of the trial but that conspiracy theory has long been debunked.) 

There was no plan, Block said, not to stop Congress and not to interfere with police. 

Under cross-examination by Assistant U.S. Attorney Erik Kenerson, Block first said planning was non-existent and that no one prior to 9:45 a.m. on Jan. 6 invited him to film the Proud Boys. Nordean didn’t ask nor did Tarrio, he testified. They just knew he was going to be there and they knew, he said, “wherever I am, there’s cameras.”

Ultimately, he did livestream from Washington on Jan. 6. He told prosecutors he’s not made much money on his footage from that day. Unprompted, Block said he averages about $40 a month from his channel featuring Jan. 6 footage on YouTube. 

“It’s not like I’m making money on this,” he said. 

But one of the ways he could make money, Kenerson pressed, was to get his name out there.  

Agreeing easily with the prosecutor, Block replied: “That’d be correct.” 

There was nothing wrong with filmmakers or videographers trying to earn a buck for their work, Kenerson argued. Then the prosecutor shared information with jurors they might not otherwise have heard. Block drove across country from Fresno, California to Washington, D.C. to testify. He live-streamed that too and set up a fundraiser online. 

“And one of the things you said was, if you got $1,000, you would put your dog in a Donald Trump vest?’ Kenerson said. 

“Yeah,” Block said. “It’s his name. Donald J, Trump. I call him Donnie because I live in California and if I say Trump in public, someone may attack me.”

Ever the self-proclaimed adherents of self-defense, Block told jurors that Proud Boys didn’t start fights, they finished them. 

Testing that claim, Kenerson brought Block’s attention to footage from Portland, Oregon. A man with Proud Boy garb approaches a van in a parking lot. There are several men surrounding the vehicle before suddenly, a Proud Boy starts unloading a stream of chemical spray with some sort of paintball-gun-looking apparatus into the van, overwhelming the driver and forcing the person to drive off road. 

As the video played, Block testified unprompted. Again.

The van had come to the location to attack Proud Boys. The government was taking things out of context, he said.

“You’re making it look like we did something to those people. I saw the man pull in there with a can of mace,” Block said. “What were we supposed to do?” 

“You don’t start fights?” Kenerson volunteered. 

‘Right,” Block said. “We’re finishing it.” 

But at another time, it didn’t appear Proud Boys were only about “finishing” fights. Pulling up a series of text messages from Dec. 13, 2020, Kenerson asked if Block had once “concocted” a plan to lure “antifa” so Proud Boys could ambush and assault them. 

In the text chain, Block appeared livid that Proud Boy Jeremy Bertino had been stabbed the night of the Million MAGA March in D.C. just one day earlier. Bertino has since pleaded guilty to seditious conspiracy and testified on behalf of the prosecution last month. 

“I don’t care. I say we let me be the sacrificial lamb next time,” Block wrote. “I’ll sneak in. Get their attention on me.” 

Block, who is disabled, had 60 operations by that point and told Proud Boys that he could “take the pain.” 

“You don’t fuck with my brothers like that,” he groused. 

But he told jurors, at first, no one ever took him up on the offer.

Then Kenerson showed him where a Proud Boy identified by the handle, “RC Proud Nate” told Block: “Be live while your scooter suddenly dies right while the exact street corner you are crossing is visible.”

Block replied: “I’ll just say, don’t worry folks, I’ll catch up like I did last night.” 

Block’s testimony will resume on Wednesday at 9 a.m. and it will be left to the defense to attempt damage control after two hard days where witness testimony has withered under the Justice Department’s scrutiny. 

Update: Exhibits from Nugent’s testimony added.

Update: Correction – an earlier version of this story stated the van video from Oregon was from years prior to Jan. 6. It was from August 2021.

From emptywheel: Please help support Brandi’s important coverage with a donation to the site.

The Proud Boys seditious conspiracy trial started this week with prosecutors rolling out meticulous frame-by-frame video footage from Jan. 6 that, for the first time in more than a month of proceedings, painted the clearest picture yet of the extremist’s groups alleged coordinated efforts to stop the U.S. Congress from certifying the 2020 election.

But as soon as presentations of that compelling—and often damning—evidence and testimony had concluded, the already-slow-going trial was abruptly halted by revelations over a “spill” of potentially classified FBI communications inadvertently disclosed to the defense.

The materials first bubbled to the surface when Nick Smith, the defense counsel representing Proud Boy Ethan Nordean, began cross-examination of FBI Special Agent Nicole Miller, a lead case agent on the Proud Boys probe. Nordean is a former chapter leader of the neofascist network who is now facing seditious conspiracy charges alongside the group’s onetime ringleader Henry “Enrique” Tarrio and their self-proclaimed “western chauvinist” cohorts Joseph Biggs, Zachary Rehl, and Dominic Pezzola.

Miller had for two days testified to her painstaking review of police bodycam footage, closed-circuit surveillance video, and other media broadcasts from Jan. 6 as she and assistant U.S. Attorney Erik Kenerson neatly buttoned up some of the last pieces of evidence expected from the prosecution as they edge toward the end of their case-in-chief.

But once Smith began to cross-examine Miller with the aim of impeaching her credibility and potentially striking the gut punches of testimony and evidence she delivered this week, the attorney revealed that the prosecution had, in preparation for trial, turned over an Excel spreadsheet to the defense containing Miller’s communications with fellow FBI agents.

While by itself such production is standard for a criminal trial, that spreadsheet, Smith said, also happened to feature more than 1,000 “hidden” rows of Miller’s internal FBI messages, some related to the case, some not.

Crucially, some of those messages, Smith alleged, indicated that agents had improperly reviewed privileged attorney-client conversations between Nordean’s co-defendant, Zachary Rehl, and Rehl’s former attorney, the recently suspended Jonathan Moseley, while Rehl was in detention. One of the messages appeared to show an FBI agent telling Miller that Rehl, the former president of the Proud Boys Philadelphia chapter, was ready to fight looming charges at trial.

“Don’t freak out Jason and Luke yet,” the agent identified as T.J. Wang wrote to Miller.

“Jason” is believed to be assistant U.S. Attorney Jason McCullough, one of several attorneys working the Proud Boys seditious conspiracy case. “Luke” is believed to be Luke Matthews Jones, another attorney initially assigned to the investigation.

Another message that was sent to Miller and revealed in court read, “You need to go into that CHS [confidential human source] report you just put and edit out that I was present.”

Smith seized too onto a message sent to Miller by another agent assigned to a different case. The other agent recounted a directive that they had received from a higher-up about “destroy[ing] 338 items of evidence.”

Smith’s line of inquiry triggered objections from prosecutors immediately and on Wednesday, presiding U.S. District Judge Timothy Kelly abruptly stopped the cross-examination and dismissed jurors early so the parties could discuss the evidence. Once outside their presence, Kelly went back and forth over the messages’ relevance and scope. Rehl’s defense attorney, Carmen Hernandez, quickly raised the alarm about potential Sixth Amendment violations citing the alleged FBI review of Rehl’s jailhouse communications with his former attorney.

In short order, a chorus of motions for mistrial by the defense rang out.

Kelly was not immediately convinced the communications fell within the narrow scope of Miller’s testimony in court, since most if not all of her testimony revolved around the Proud Boy defendants’ movements on Jan. 6 and their communications. With three months of trial in earnest long underway, Kelly cautioned both parties to slow down and assess the path forward after returning to their “war camps or peace camps” for the night, he said.

By Thursday morning, assistant U.S. attorney Jocelyn Ballantine, who is overseeing the case against the Proud Boys, told Judge Kelly that the prosecution had not fully appreciated the complexity of the inadvertent exposure.

“It appears [some of our] Jencks production may include a spill of classified information,” Ballantine said before requesting the Justice Department receive a single day to complete a classification review of Miller’s materials and claw back any contents for national security purposes before the trial resumed.

Defense attorney Norm Pattis, who represents Joseph Biggs along with defense attorney Dan Hull, was adamant that the government’s oversight should rightfully be to their benefit. Without a court order, Pattis told Judge Kelly, he would not return any documents already in evidence and further, he would use them to vigorously defend his client. At the same time he made these pronouncements however, Pattis also conceded that as far as anyone knows, the messages at issues might be wholly unrelated to the Proud Boys case anyway. That included, he said, the communications about the destruction of evidence.

Nevertheless, Pattis still asked the judge to appoint an independent party or special master to conduct a classification review. His request was matched by Rehl’s attorney Carmen Hernandez though Hernandez insisted that much of the material appeared innocuous to her eye. As Hernandez began to read portions she deemed unclassified aloud in court—prompting all of the color to drain from Judge Kelly’s face—Ballantine stepped in.

Since Miller had already testified as a witness for the government on direct examination, the prosecution was now precluded from speaking to her about the case any further in private. By having Miller testify openly in court, Ballantine argued this would establish how Miller conducted her review without adding further delay to the trial or more overt exposure of sensitive information.

Returning to the stand but outside the view of the jury, Miller testified Thursday that she was ordered by FBI headquarters to go through a collection of her internal communications pulled from the FBI’s in-house messaging program known as Lync. She was to review messages from the period of Jan. 6, 2021, to Nov. 1, 2022, just before the originally anticipated start date of the Proud Boys trial. That final compilation was then to go to prosecutors at the U.S. Attorney’s Office who could pore over it before passing it off to the defense for discovery.

The special agent said she pulled somewhere between 12,000 to 15,000 lines of information. That would make up thousands of rows, but what she remitted to prosecutors ultimately included 25 to 26 rows. The rest of the rows, it would seem, were hidden through what prosecutors initially described as a possible glitch in the spreadsheet but the exact reason was not made clear in court this week. As a result, Ballantine was equally uncertain about whether Miller had conducted the review of only her messages in the dataset or if  Miller had conducted a review of all the messages—including those rows now hotly in the defendant’s possession.

The distinction was key, and Ballantine, unfortunately for the Justice Department, elicited that Miller had not reviewed those messages for classification purposes.

“The FBI needs to conduct that review and this information will allow us to conduct [it]. I understand it would appear to counsel that some of these Lync messages appear not to be classified and that is correct, but the FBI needs to conduct, consistent with its national security obligations, that review,” she said. “I would ask that counsel be instructed by the court not to further review the spreadsheets, and not to send them to anyone else while the FBI conducts a classification review of messages sent by other people in that spreadsheet.”

Judge Kelly agreed, orally issued the order, and left the evidence in the defense’s hands. The matter will be picked up on Monday.

This interruption to the pace of the trial is but the latest in a long series of fits and starts that have pockmarked proceedings from the beginning. The trial was meant to begin last August but openings were delayed by the judge in light of the Jan. 6 committee’s release of its final report and transcripts at the end of last summer. The start date was then moved to December and jury selection alone took almost two weeks as parties questioned a pool of 150 prospects before the group was whittled down to 16 jurors including alternates.

More than a dozen requests were filed by the Proud Boys to change venues and before finally beginning the historic trial, defense counselors Nick Smith and Carmen Hernandez both threatened to withdraw from the case altogether when dissatisfied with some of Judge Kelly’s early evidentiary rulings. Biggs’ attorney Norm Pattis was nearly thrown off the case completely when he was suspended from practicing law for six months after his botched handling of sensitive documents for client Alex Jones in Jones’ Sandy Hook defamation case. Pattis appealed and his suspension was postponed. Given the months of delays up to that point, Kelly allowed Pattis to represent Biggs, recognizing the hardship of bringing a new attorney into the fold at such a late hour. Not helping matters any further was a potential conflict of interest that arose with Biggs’ only other attorney at the time, Dan Hull. Just days before the trial was to finally begin in January, Hull informed the court that he had contacted Proud Boy Jeremy Bertino—who ultimately flipped on Tarrio and pleaded guilty to seditious conspiracy —long before the trial began. Hull had talked to Bertino about possibly representing him. As a result, only Pattis was able to cross Bertino. Roger Roots, the defense attorney for defendant Dominic Pezzola, only signed onto the case a day before opening statements.

Once finally underway, evidence from the prosecution trickled out at a snail’s pace with testimony from key witnesses often stilted by a steady barrage of objections from the defense about the admissibility of evidence including evidence both parties had already agreed to admit pretrial. Crosstalk and bickering among attorneys or with Judge Kelly has often led the judge to call for lengthy sidebars, sometimes forcing him to excuse jurors from the courtroom as matters are resolved. There have been several days where jurors were not admitted inside the courtroom for more than an hour as infighting over evidence or witness testimony was aired out at the top of a trial day.

As of February 28^th, there had been no less than a dozen calls for mistrial by the defense.

So common was this practice that last month, with his tone dripping in incredulity, Judge Kelly remarked to attorneys “it wouldn’t be a day in this trial without a mistrial motion.”

Two former Proud Boys who pled guilty and agreed to cooperate with the government, Jeremy Bertino and Matthew Greene, had already testified long before Agent Miller took the stand this week and the classification issue exploded.

They, and in particular, Bertino, were considered star witnesses for the prosecution and it is very likely that their testimony failed to leave the defendants altogether unscathed in the eyes of the jury.

Bertino said after Trump namedropped Proud Boys at the 2020 presidential debates and told them to ‘stand back and stand by,’ the extremist group’s recruitment efforts surged. The Proud Boys and a new world of prospective members were whipped into a frenzy, he said. Proud Boys were regularly hanging on Trump’s every word as he launched one failed legal bid after another to declare the 2020 election results fraudulent. Once the U.S. Supreme Court rejected Trump’s forays, desperation among Proud Boys grew, Bertino said and members and leaders alike, including Tarrio, became singularly focused on the necessity of an “all-out revolution.”

What followed was the creation of the group’s Ministry of Self-Defense, a channel, Bertino said, where members would discuss operations for Jan. 6 in code. Prior to that, Greene, who traveled to D.C. on Jan. 5 with Proud Boy William Pepe—Dominic Pezzola traveled with Greene and Pepe too but rode in another vehicle—told jurors that on the eve of the insurrection, he was added to a chat called “Boots on Ground.”

“I was led to believe it was some sort of coordination group for Proud Boys in D.C. for the 6th,” he said.

Greene revealed that he wasn’t privy to specific plans but was instructed to program handheld radios for any Proud Boys who might want them the night before the attack. And when the moment finally arrived and Greene found himself standing before the first barrier that was breached at the Capitol, he told jurors he thought to himself: “Oh shit, this is it.”

“I personally had an abstract feeling that Proud Boys were about to be a part of something,” Greene said before calling the group the “tip of the spear” on Jan. 6.

But, he added, “I never heard specifically what that could be. But as people moved closer to the Capitol, I was in the moment, putting two and two together and saying [to myself] ‘well, here it is,” Greene testified on Jan. 24.

Before Miller testified, Bertino and Greene’s testimony allowed prosecutors to introduce some of the raw and wildly anti-democratic, pro-authoritarian discourse among Proud Boys. Their testimony also exposed evidence of the group’s reliance on frequent communication by way of Telegram, Parler, or teleconference meetings and they helped demonstrate to jurors how Proud Boys were siloed by leadership status or divvied up on a need-to-know basis.

And underpinning all of this was evidence supporting the government’s core legal theory about the Proud Boy defendants and Jan. 6: They didn’t act alone in order to stop the certification by force, they relied not just on themselves but on what the government has dubbed “the tools of the conspiracy.” 

The theory, in sum, suggests the following: to pull off a stop to the certification and potentially keep Donald Trump in the White House despite his defeat, defendants relied not just on individuals who were part of the alleged conspiracy but they would rely on inciting and rallying people unconnected to the organization, too. Bertino and others, chats in evidence have shown, referred to these potential allies as “normies.”

“Normies,” Bertino told jurors, were anyone who supported Trump or considered themselves “right of center” politically. They were “everyday people,” Bertino testified on Feb. 27, who would get behind Proud Boys because they shared the same beliefs about the “stolen” election and the perilous future America faced.

Early in the morning on Jan. 6, in the “New Ministry of Self Defense” chat as Bertino spoke to two Proud Boys, Aaron Wolkind and John Stewart about the day ahead in Washington, Wolkind said he wanted to see “thousands of normies burn that city to ash today.”

Stewart prayed, “God let it happen” before lamenting that “normiecons have no adrenaline control” and were like a “pack of wild dogs.”

Bertino replied: “Fuck it let them loose.”

Charles Donohoe, who would later plead guilty to conspiracy to obstruct an official proceeding and assaulting police, told Wolkind, Stewart, and Bertino right around the same time in that same chat that he was already “hoofing it” to the Washington Monument with a crew of 15. They weren’t wearing their recognizable Proud Boy black and yellow colors, either, Donohoe said.

Tarrio, prosecutors showed jurors, had instructed them not to days before.

Despite the intimate nature of the testimony delivered by Bertino and Greene, it arguably was not until Kenerson elicited Agent Miller’s testimony this week that the full punch of the prosecution’s “tools” theory was delivered.

With Miller as a guide, for two consecutive days, video footage was shown to jurors, often frame by frame or motion by motion, of the tinder keg that Proud Boys tapped on Jan. 6.

Using aerial surveillance footage from the Capitol, Miller used her finger to circle on a screen shared with jurors precisely where Proud Boys positioned themselves on Jan. 6.

The crowd, standing shoulder to shoulder, is on the precipice of making history whether they know it or not. And there, at the very front of the horde of Trump’s supporters, Miller drew nine circles, each representing multiple individuals, including Proud Boys, grouped together. Four of the nine group circles were situated as close as possible to a police barricade line. The others stood just behind them. The groups were evenly spaced and evenly numbered. It was just about 1 p.m. Then-Vice President Mike Pence was still minutes away from making his announcement that he would not decertify slates unilaterally.

Miller, and other witnesses for the government, including Bertino, have testified that Proud Boys never even bothered to listen to Trump’s speech on the morning of the 6th.

They gathered at predetermined meeting points, like at the Washington Monument, and marched down to the Capitol picking up speed and allies—the ‘tools’ they needed for blunt force—as they went.

Miller reviewed video footage in court this week showing Joseph Biggs, for example, pointing a group of Proud Boys including Donohoe, Gilbert Fonticoba, and Eddie Block, away from the area where Trump was speaking at the Ellipse and toward the Capitol.

“Come up over here and then roll through,” Biggs’ is heard saying in one video clip, Miller testified.

Biggs riled up the crowd as he marched on the Capitol, Miller said, chanting “fuck antifa” or “we love Trump” or “1776.”

Miller showed jurors footage too of the moment when Ryan Samsel, who is not a Proud Boy, approached an already keyed-up Biggs and wrapped his arm around him. Biggs didn’t throw Samsel’s arm off. They would speak briefly and within moments, Samsel, Miller said, could be seen removing his jacket as if to fight police. As barriers first begin to fall, Agent Miller testified that she was able to identify defendant Zachary Rehl screaming “Fuck them! Storm the Capitol!”

The agent testified that it wasn’t until Proud Boys showed up at the Peace Monument, located just in front of the Capitol, that the crowd’s tenor had changed. Footage showed they were “relatively peaceful,” until then, Miller testified.

When Nordean arrived at the Peace Monument, he grabbed a bullhorn and told a gathering crowd: “We represent the spirit of 1776.” He promised, “real men are here,” and discussed Constitutional oaths against enemies foreign and domestic. 

“Let us remind those who have forgotten what that means,” Nordean said.

In other footage, members like Daniel “Milkshake” Lyons Scott were spotted meeting with Proud Boys at the Monument before later separating and then rejoining each other at police lines.

“Milkshake” was standing alongside key members of the conspiracy like Charles Donohoe, as the men prepared to storm the Capitol. Never far from them, Miller added, were Dominic Pezzola, Matthew Greene, William Pepe, and others. Seconds after the mob began ascending stairs to the Capitol’s interior, Agent Miller said it was Biggs, Fonticoba, and a handful of others, like Shannon Rusch and Trevor McDonald who joined him.

In one clip shown to the jury, as Proud Boys make hand signals affiliated with the white power movement to each other as they lay siege, Christopher Worrell, a Proud Boy with ties to Roger Stone, appears on screen and shouts: “Yeah! Taking the Capitol!”

Nordean, Miller said, had gathered “tools” of the conspiracy like Paul Rae and Arthur Jackman and others as they advanced past barriers or up the Capitol stairs and balustrades toward the interior.

It was Jackman and another member from the marching group, the FBI agent testified, who used turned-over bike rack barriers as makeshift ladders to help scale the walls. Biggs would scale the “ladder” with Fonticoba and Rae.

When the men reached the upper west plaza, where some of the worst violence would occur, Miller testified that it wouldn’t be long before Pezzola was striding into the same location with a stolen police riot shield in tow. Jurors watched footage frame by frame of Pezzola smashing open a window. When one pane wouldn’t break, he tried the one next to it and successfully “unattached” the window from its frame completely, Miller said.

Pezzola was the fifth or sixth person inside after that. He let other rioters stream through first. Minutes later, Biggs, Rae, and Fonticoba would come through a busted door in the same hallway that Pezzola entered. Jurors watched Pezzola stalk that hallway and as Miller testified,  Pezzola would later appear to hold a radio up to his head to talk to someone before taking off down a hallway to the Capitol crypt.

Rehl, meanwhile, she said, had made his way to the upper west terrace and was joined by Rae and others like Isaiah Giddings, Brian Healion, and Freedom Vy. Tarrio wasn’t on Capitol grounds on Jan. 6 but he was attuned to what was happening at the Capitol anyway.

“I’m enjoying the show,” Tarrio wrote on Parler around 2:35 p.m. “Do what must be done. #WeThePeople.”

Three minutes later, as the surge was in full swing, Tarrio would bark on Parler: “Don’t fucking leave” and “Proud of my boys and my country.”

Tarrio and Bertino were texting privately at the same time, Miller said.

When Bertino, flushed with pride, told Tarrio, “Brother, you know we made this happen,” Tarrio responded with two words: “I know.”

When talking to fellow Proud Boy Chris Cannon over text that afternoon, Tarrio agreed when Cannon asked if the Proud Boys were a militia now.

“Yup,” Tarrio wrote.

“Make no mistake, we did this,” he added.

Cannon then sent a short video to Tarrio in the elders-only Skull and Bones chat.  The video featured, among other things, footage from World War II including marching Nazis and victorious Nazis being saluted by Hitler. There were no objections made by the defense when the video was first played for the jury this week. It was also not the first time jurors would see Proud Boys reference Nazis.

During a chat with Biggs and other Proud Boys days before the Capitol attack, as Tarrio discussed how to avoid detection by wearing colors other than their traditional black and yellow garb, the national leader of the fascist organization seemed to outright tickle himself at one point.

“Did I just Goebbels this thing?” Tarrio said, referencing Joseph Goebbels, the Nazi minister of propaganda.

Defense attorneys claimed this week that the impact of the prosecution sharing the video Tarrio received from Cannon was too burdensome to bear. Smith said it was “designed to poison the well” against the defendants and that this case had “nothing to do with marching Nazis and brownshirts.”

Attorneys for all of the defendants insisted the prosecution unfairly included the clip and it should have been something the defense was alerted to in advance. Calls for mistrial by the defense began to billow from every corner but Judge Kelly denied them all.

“Let’s have a rule going forward that if it involves Nazis, you will tell me in advance,” the judge said.

He would agree to strike the video from the record and later instructed jurors that the footage depicting Nazis was not sent by Tarrio or any other defendant in the case.

Proceedings resume on Monday and the prosecution is expected to bring out just a few more witnesses before the defense takes over. It is expected that Tarrio and Biggs will testify on their own behalf.