Federal Trial Begins for the Nevada Rancher Cliven Bundy

LAS VEGAS — When Cliven Bundy refused to hand over his trespassing cattle to officials in 2014, he inspired an armed standoff that highlighted sharp divisions over the power of the federal government and the ways Americans use public lands.

Mr. Bundy is finally getting his day in court.

His federal trial in Las Vegas begins on Tuesday. And it is being watched closely because it could set the tone for how 640 million acres of public land owned by the federal government, including America’s national parks, wildlife refuges and conservation areas, are managed.

A guilty verdict for Mr. Bundy could reinforce Washington’s control of these acres, while an acquittal could embolden those who ignore federal rules.

Ian Bartrum, a law professor at the University of Nevada, Las Vegas, said the case raised questions about whether land protection was “something the federal government can even do.”

Who is Cliven Bundy?

The case of Mr. Bundy, 71, has become a rallying point for many Americans who see Washington’s broad control of public land as a sign of government overreach. In the West, the federal government owns about half the terrain.

Mr. Bundy’s family has ranched in Bunkerville, Nev., for generations. But when the government announced new land-use rules in the 1990s, Mr. Bundy stopped paying grazing fees and racked up a $1 million debt. In April 2014, federal agents finally moved in to confiscate his livestock.

His family used the internet to recruit support — “Range war begins tomorrow,” Mr. Bundy’s wife posted on Facebook — and for days hundreds of armed cowboys and militiamen faced off with federal officers in a sandy wash under a Nevada highway.

The government agents withdrew, and in the end, not a shot was fired. Months later, Mr. Bundy’s sons Ammon and Ryan started a second confrontation when they decided to occupy a federal wildlife refuge in Oregon.

The trial beginning on Tuesday involves only the Nevada conflict. Mr. Bundy is charged with more than a dozen felonies, including conspiracy to commit an offense against the nation and assault on a federal officer. Ammon, Ryan and an ally named Ryan Payne are also charged.

The main question in the case is whether the conflict at the wash was a “massive armed assault” on officers, as the government states in its indictment, or an exercise of free speech by Mr. Bundy and others who believe that Washington should relinquish control of federally owned acres.

In the footnotes of the thousands of documents related to the case, Mr. Bundy’s lawyer previews his trial strategy, comparing Mr. Bundy with the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and the stand at Bunkerville with the 1965 march on Selma.

“Perhaps the most famous civil rights demonstrations in American history,” writes Bret O. Whipple, “involved demonstrators who ‘advanced’ and ‘moved forward’ against the commands of public authorities.”

To strengthen the argument that he is a political prisoner, Mr. Bundy will wear jail-issued blue scrubs and orange flip-flops during the trial, rather than a suit and tie.

If convicted, Mr. Bundy and the others could spend decades in prison.

What challenges does the federal government face?

A challenge for prosecutors, legal experts say, will be persuading the jury to trust the government’s side of the story in the face of a wave of anti-institutionalism that has influenced everything from the presidential election on down.

“There is a fundamental distrust of institutions that wasn’t there when we were prosecuting cases 10 years ago,” said Ethan D. Knight, an assistant United States attorney, who tried Mr. Bundy’s sons for their role in the takeover in Oregon. “We underestimated that.”

In that case, a jury acquitted the Bundy sons, just days before the election of Donald J. Trump.

Eighteen lesser players in the Oregon takeover received convictions or entered guilty pleas.

But the government just struck a plea deal with two of Mr. Bundy’s Nevada followers, who now face the possibility of probation instead of a lifetime in prison. Attorney General Jeff Sessions has said he is “not taking sides” in the Nevada case. And in July, the former Trump adviser Roger Stone threw his weight behind the Bundys, attending a packed fund-raiser in Las Vegas where he demanded that the president “pardon the Bundy family!”

Mr. Bundy’s fans cheered in appreciation. Mr. Trump has not responded.

Law-enforcement actions could also influence the trial.

Agent Dan Love led the federal Bureau of Land Management’s response during the standoff. But recent reports have cast doubt on his ability to properly handle the case.

One report from the Interior Department’s Office of the Inspector General found he had pilfered evidence in a separate case and instructed a subordinate to delete potentially incriminating emails. Another detailed how he had abused his position while at the counterculture festival Burning Man, using government resources to lavish his girlfriend and others with special treatment.

(Among his team’s requests was a million-dollar compound outfitted with 24-hour access to ice cream.)

The defense is seeking to compel Mr. Love to testify in the standoff trial, a clear effort to use Mr. Love’s behavior to discredit government action. So far, Judge Gloria Navarro has said it is “too premature to determine if a motion to compel is appropriate.”

With more than 1,000 potential witnesses in the case, the trial could last through February.

What could the case mean for America’s public lands?

Mr. Bundy’s Nevada standoff began a wave of acts of defiance against restrictions on government-controlled acres.

A Utah county commissioner led an ATV ride through a canyon that had been closed to protect Native American artifacts. Armed protesters in Oregon swarmed a mining area after officials told the mine owner to stop work. A ranching family in Battle Mountain, Nev., released cattle onto drought-stricken public land, despite an order not to do so.

At the time they called it “going Bundy.”

These activities have alarmed people who view land-use rules as critical to environmental protection.

“If the Bundys are acquitted,” said Jennifer Rokala, director of the conservation group Center for Western Priorities, “that sends a chilling message to park rangers and land managers that their ability to do their job safely is at risk.”

What do the Bundys say?

Restrictions on grazing in the Bunkerville area have pushed many ranchers out in recent decades, and the Bundys have repeatedly said that they are peaceful protesters standing up to a government whose grip on federal land is putting rural people out of business.

“What happened here in 2014, I’ve never seen government overreach quite like that,” Angie Bundy, Ryan’s wife, said in an interview. “I do believe that God will deliver my husband,” she said. “But he’s in the hands of evil right now.”

Mr. Bundy and his sons Ammon, Ryan, Mel and Dave have been jailed for nearly two years, leaving their wives with a heavy load. Mel’s wife, Briana, said there were 26 children under the age of 15 among the jailed men. (Mel and Dave will be tried at a later date.)

The family has been transformed into a potent symbol in anti-government circles. There are several Bundy blogs, a collection of books by Bundy allies, a small army of livestreamers, radio hosts and local politicians who champion their cause, and a network of citizens who have discovered them on social media and come to their aid.

A Bundy gift shop sells T-shirts, bumper stickers and belt buckles declaring “Victory Over Oppression.”

A July fund-raiser here was just one of many events around the West designed to help pay the family’s legal fees and other costs. That evening, hundreds of people crowded a party hall staffed by bartenders in tuxedos. The Bundy women wore black dresses bearing the words “We the People.”