This week, Texas Governor Greg Abbott pardoned Daniel Perry. “Texas has one of the strongest ‘stand your ground’ laws of self-defense that cannot be nullified by a jury or a progressive district attorney,” he wrote in a statement.
Almost as if everyone involved anticipated this pardon, the Texas prison system managed to release Perry within an hour of Abbott’s signing, a near-miraculous coordination of prison administration that I have never witnessed. (Ask those who are exonerated how long it takes to get released from prison.)
Some background: In July 2020, Perry was working as an Uber driver when he shot and killed Garrett Foster, a Black Lives Matter protestor. Foster, a white Air Force veteran, was at the protest with his longtime girlfriend, who is Black. He carried an AK-47-style rifle, which is legal.
Note: Abbott’s pardon describes Foster’s weapon as a “Kalashnikov-style rifle,” which is a strange way to describe one of the most common rifles in America, one which most regular people refer to as “AK-47 style” because, as far as I know, you can only buy Kalashnikovs in Eastern Europe/ Russia. But I digress.
Perry, who served in the Army, appears to have gotten pissed off at the Black Lives Matter protestors who were blocking his way. Perry also carried a gun, a pistol. He ran a red light into the crowd. He claimed Foster approached his car and threatened him, so Perry shot Foster dead. At trial, Perry clarified that Foster did not aim his gun at him; rather, Perry said, “I didn’t want to give him a chance.”
Perry was charged, went to trial, and was found guilty of murder, despite raising a “stand your ground” defense that the court (and a jury of his peers) rejected.
The next day, Abbott promised to pardon Perry, which he could not do until the Texas Board of Pardons and Paroles reviewed the case. The Board has seven members that Abbott appointed — two of them are former sheriffs (including the chair) and one is a former sheriff’s deputy. Interesting.
There’s a lot to say about Perry’s personality, including a ream of damning text messages in which he said he wanted to hunt BLM protestors and various other disgusting things. Radley Balko has an excellent analysis of the facts of the case, so I won’t go over all of the evidence here. I think it is fair to say that Perry murdered someone, an act that most casual observers would consider bad and against the law – unless, of course, you were acting under state authority.
Yet, no law enforcement organization has objected to Abbott’s extremely unusual pardon. Why could that be?
Here, I want to offer an explanation for Perry’s celebrated status despite being arrested and convicted of what everyone must agree is a very serious felony. Perry is not just a right-wing vigilante celebrated by the GOP for killing a racial justice protestor. He was also acting as law enforcement and doing The Lord’s work by killing Foster. Rather than representing the random violence promoted by the right against their perceived enemies, Perry’s pardon is the logical outcome of an American law enforcement culture that legitimizes violence for the purpose of state-building. In the course of writing my book, I found that there has long been a link between elected sheriffs and vigilante violence. We should not see Perry’s violence as operating outside of the law – he is simply reenacting what the police do every day.
For example, violence by white settlers against Native Americans and Mexicans living in the Western United States was not just condoned by law enforcement; it was encouraged. Most lynchings happened because sheriffs enabled them. And, even when sheriffs prevented lynchings, they often took pains to violently beat and abuse suspects in their custody to show the vigilantes (and voters) that law enforcement, while operating under the color of law, was perfectly willing to act outside of the law.
Today, many sheriffs have reinstated so-called “volunteer posses.” While some function like “neighborhood watch groups” (a program started by the National Sheriffs’ Association, the most prominent group purporting to represent elected sheriffs), most serve to legitimize an idea that some citizens are entitled to act on behalf of law enforcement, with the power to detain, arrest, and even enact violence. In some places, posse members have carried badges and driven official vehicles. Sometimes they are vetted; sometimes not.
After Perry killed Foster, the police did not arrest him. Eventually, Detective David Fugitt, one of the most celebrated detectives in the Austin Police Department, investigated the crime and TESTIFED FOR THE DEFENSE. Let that sink in. Fugitt, who didn’t bother to check how fast Perry was going, argued in court that he thought Perry did not show any intent to run over protestors and insisted that the bullets’ trajectories suggested Perry shot in self-defense. (A jury decided he was wrong.)
Fugitt left the department shortly after and now works for Ken Paxton’s office, which seems like a career move you make when you have something to hide. Paxton has, not coincidentally, been a huge supporter of the movement to pardon Perry, writing, “Americans across the country have been watching this case in Texas and praying for justice after BLM riots terrorized the nation in 2020,” directly linking Perry’s crime to a sense of “justice” against racial justice protestors. Which, makes no sense unless you consider that, to Paxton and the rest of the Texas law enforcement apparatus, justice is killing protestors arguing for racial justice.
Far from being condemned by law enforcement, Perry was celebrated. A group called the National Center for Police Defense highlighted his case as one of unjust prosecution. (The group is led by James Fotis, who is also the Executive Director of the Law Enforcement Alliance of America, which is just a law enforcement spin-off of the National Rifle Association.)
The same week Abbott pardoned Perry, the head of the Austin Police Association Michael Bullock testified in front of a House committee and whined about how Democrats, especially “Soros-funded prosecutors,” are undermining the rule of law in Austin. (In the meantime, Republicans have significantly reduced police funding and called for the abolition of the FBI.) It’s worth remembering that when Austin police officer Justin Berry was indicted for using excessive force against BLM protestors, Abbott not only endorsed Berry’s failed political campaign, but also after Berry’s lost, Abbott appointed him to the Texas Commission on Law Enforcement, which sets standards for Texas law enforcement. (The charges against Berry were eventually dropped.)
The Austin Police Association has remained interestingly silent on Perry’s pardon and release. I reached out to ask whether they had thoughts on the fact that a case investigated by one of the best detectives in the department was now being overturned by Abbott, who argues not that Perry has rehabilitated himself but rather that Perry should never have been arrested and charged in the first place. They didn’t reply.
Abbott’s move was designed to create headlines and piss Democrats off. But it also makes a certain kind of sense. Perry was acting under color of law, the white kind.
Rogue AG + Rogue Governor = TEXBANISTAN
You might appreciate this podcast on the Police Deception:
https://spotifyanchor-web.app.link/e/k7jpE3Ua2Jb