Bob Paudert is convinced his son and a fellow officer would still be alive if they’d known the special red flags to watch for during a traffic stop of a mini-van carrying a father and son with a virulent loathing for governmental authority — and an AK-47 to back it up.
Paudert, until recently the chief of police for West Memphis, Ark., was on his way out of town for a getaway weekend with his wife when they heard the radio call of two officers down nearly two years ago. U-turning back, the Pauderts were among the first on the scene where one West Memphis officer, Bill Evans, lay facedown in a watery ditch, shot 11 times alongside an off-ramp of Interstate 40.
Sprawled on the pavement nearby was the body of his sergeant, gunned down while he still clutched his Glock 22 in his right hand. That was the Pauderts’ 39-year-old son, Brandon. Spent shells around him testified that “he was in a fight for his life and lost,” as Paudert puts it.
Ninety minutes later in a firefight with law officers in a Walmart parking lot not far away, a sheriff and his chief deputy were wounded and the van’s occupants were killed. The suspect who’d murdered Brandon and Bill was 16 years old. Like his father, he was a dedicated Sovereign Citizen, part of a movement little known at that time but now recognized as a growing domestic terrorist threat to law enforcement.
Today, Paudert’s mission — a compelling obsession, he says — is to make cops aware of Sovereign Citizen indicators and tactics in hopes of preventing others from falling victim to their sometimes lethal intentions. Police1 first heard him speak, along with a panel of federal experts, to a standing room crowd at last fall’s IACP annual conference. Later he elaborated on details he thinks you need to know to stay safe.
What’s a Sovereign?
According to the DOJ, members of the Sovereign Citizens movement “openly reject their citizenship status and claim to exist beyond the realm of government authority.”
Among other things, they believe that the U.S. is “controlled by secret societies or foreign financiers,” that certain constitutional amendments are invalid, that practices of financial institutions “are often illegitimate and unenforceable,” that native-born U.S. citizens can “use their birth certificates to access secret Treasury bank accounts,” and, perhaps most important, that government agencies and law enforcement “have no authority” over them.
By declaring their self-appointed personal “sovereignty,” which they claim is a right under the Constitution, they renounce all their debts, including taxes and mortgages, and believe themselves to be above the law in all aspects of their lives. “No one governs them but God,” Paudert explains.
The movement is not formally organized and has no hierarchy of leadership, but its philosophy is spread and reinforced by like-minded adherents through “debt-elimination” and anti-government seminars and on internet websites and chat rooms. An estimated 300,000 Americans consider themselves Sovereigns, and in the current troubled economy, the number is said to be rapidly growing.
Paudert claims the movement, which has followers in all states, is spreading into prison populations and is attracting even some law enforcement professionals.
What’s the Danger?
While the Sovereign ideology appears to be generally nonviolent, extremists within the movement make no bones about their willingness to use deadly force to defend their “freedom.”
The father of the boy who wielded the AK-47 in West Memphis had stated during a debt-elimination seminar, “I don’t want to kill anyone. But if they [the police] keep messing with me, that’s how it’s going to come out. And if I have to kill one, then I’m not going to be able to stop.” Before traveling to Arkansas, he’d spent some nights in jail in New Mexico for having no driver’s license.
During a 60 Minutes broadcast on which Paudert appeared, a “guru” within the Sovereign movement stated bluntly that the 2nd Amendment guarantees that “we have the right to keep and bear arms to shoot politicians…and the police…. We are armed. Don’t mess with us.”
Not only in Arkansas, but in South Carolina, Texas, Alaska, Virginia, and other jurisdictions, there have been violent clashes between Sovereigns and LEOs.
“When people first join the movement, they’re elated by thinking their debts are wiped out and they don’t have to obey law enforcement,” Paudert explains. “Then as they still get traffic tickets or experience other enforcement like everybody else, their dream world comes crashing down. The more they’re stopped and ‘harassed,’ the more frustrated and angry they become. If they get angry enough, they take action. When you encounter them as an officer, you have no idea where they are in the process or what their thoughts are.”
And if you don’t understand the tactics you are likely to be confronted with, you can quickly become confused, distracted — and vulnerable.
Pre-Contact Red Flags
Any enforcement action may bring you in contact with Sovereign Citizens, but you’re most likely to encounter them on traffic stops. Vans tend to be their vehicle of choice, Paudert says. “When you see strange stuff you’ve never seen before, be suspicious,” he warns. Examples:
• Bumper stickers & decals. “A big clue,” Paudert says. These may declare that the vehicle occupants are “Freemen on the land,” “Flesh and blood” men and women, “indigenous peoples,” Sovereigns, or some other distinctive designation. They may warn: “Private vehicle — Do not stop or detain.” Sometimes there’s a flag decal on a window, with the flag upside-down, the international signal for distress.
• License plates. Rather than legitimate tags, a Sovereign vehicle may display none at all, have hand-lettered cardboard versions, or have official-looking metal plates stamped with “Kingdom of Heaven” or another oddball name as the issuing jurisdiction. “Usually there will be no expiration date because they feel they don’t have to reregister every year,” Paudert says. Some passenger vehicles may bear a stenciled or sticker DOT number.
• Registration checks. If you’re able to run a registration check, the response may be that the vehicle is owned by a church or a religious-sounding charity, Paudert says. The van his son’s assailants were driving was registered to a church in Ohio that had the same address as a former Aryan Nation hangout.
“When officers think they are dealing with a religious institution, they may let their guard down,” Paudert notes. “Don’t. With any indication that you may be dealing with Sovereigns, back up your unit to gain distance, get backup there immediately, maintain vigilant observation, and do not approach the violator vehicle.”
Baffling Bullshit
In the absence of exterior cues, you can quickly pick up on Sovereign tactics once you make contact with the driver. “What ensues then will be nonsensical responses that can distract and confuse you if you don’t understand what’s happening,” Paudert says.
Instead of readily supplying the driver’s license, registration, and insurance verification you want, Sovereigns will try to overwhelm you with challenging dialog and profuse documentation, often attempting to conduct their communication through a barely opened window so that you have to lean in close to hear, Paudert says.
• Language. They may deny that they are driving but say they’re “traveling” or “journeying” on a “public right-of-way” and refer to their car as a “road machine,” “conveyance,” or “personal-use recreational vehicle” with “guests” or “family” rather than passengers. In lieu of proper documents, they may hand you a Sovereign Citizen’s “Traveler’s Card” and tell you to run a registration check on your computer. An arrest may be referred to as a “kidnapping.”
They’re virtually certain in some way to dispute your authority to stop them. They may claim you’re “out of your jurisdiction” or demand that you produce a “bond” or an “oath of office” to protect their rights before they’ll consent to “engage in a contractual relationship” with you.
A favorite ploy, Paudert says, is for the Sovereign to announce, “I’m imposing a fee schedule on you. For every minute you detain me, I will fine you $5,000.”
• Paperwork. “They’ll hand you all sorts of official-looking documents, supposedly attesting to their recognized sovereignty,” Paudert says. “Some of these may bear seals or notary public stamps. Frequently they contain references to the Bible, Magna Carta, the U.S. Constitution and Supreme Court, or treaties with foreign governments.
“Often they’ll be marked with thumbprints in red ink, to simulate blood. Signatures, also in red, are often followed by the words ‘under duress’ or ‘without prejudice,’ or by a copyright or trademark symbol.”
Forms they present can range from a “Declaration of Status” to a “Notice of International Commercial Claim in Admiralty Administrative Remedy” to “foreign national” diplomatic “ambassador” credentials — all hokum, Paudert says, that only the Sovereign mindset accepts as anything but ludicrous. Typographical idiosyncrasies are replete: zip codes in brackets, names in all capital letters or oddly interspersed with colons or dashes, acronyms like TDC (Threat, Duress, or Coercion), ARR (All Rights Reserved) or UCC (Uniform Commercial Code).
Dash-cam video from the slaying scene on Interstate 40 shows the officers at the rear of the suspect van, studying a handful of papers, eyes diverted from the vehicle, shortly before the teenaged attacker pops out of the passenger seat and opens fire with the AK-47.
“Don’t waste time or divert your attention to trying to figure out their garbage,” Paudert stresses. “If they don’t readily present a license, registration, and proof of insurance, withdraw promptly to your unit, call for backup, and proceed with tactics for a high-risk vehicle stop when adequate help arrives.” He strongly advocates being armed with a patrol rifle when dealing with Sovereign suspects.
Through use of a telephone tree via calling or texting, a detained Sovereign may summon other members to the scene of your enforcement, says Casey Carty, supervisory special agent for the FBI’s Domestic Terrorism Operations Unit. “At least one in the crowd is likely to have a gun. If you are outnumbered with no backup available, you may need to back off for your safety.”
Paper Terrorism
Apart from any on-scene physical threats, the consequences of an enforcement encounter with a Sovereign can linger in the form of ongoing harassment long after the contact is over.
“Sovereigns have their own ‘common law’ court system,” Paudert explains. “Periodically, members of the movement get together in homes or in public places like restaurants or libraries and hold ‘grand juries’ that ‘indict’ police, judges, and other people who’ve interfered with them. Then they file frivolous lawsuits and fraudulent liens, demanding payment of the ‘fines’ they impose.
“They never collect, but these actions can play havoc with your credit rating and cost you time, money, and emotional turmoil to get cleared up,” Paudert says. Some experts call this harassment “paper terrorism.”
If you’ve had contact with a Sovereign, Paudert advises that you keep close watch on your credit rating afterward. He also urges law enforcement agencies to educate local prosecutors and court personnel about Sovereign tactics.
You can also view a 12-minute instructional video he made for the Southern Poverty Law Center, which monitors extremist groups. Go to this website where you’ll find other information on this dangerous movement as well.
As Paudert told a 60 Minutes interviewer, combating the Sovereign threat has become “a mission with me. Who better to deliver the message than someone who has lost so much? If they want to come after me, I have absolutely no problem with it. I might even like it.”
Paudert now crisscrosses the country presenting training sessions on the Sovereign Citizen threat and how to counter it. For more information, contact him at: paudert@att.net or at 901-826-4221.
