"I'm Not Fleeing," Says Alleged Antifa Cell Member Accused of Moving Anarchist Zines After Protest
For five months, Daniel Sanchez Estrada was behind bars on charges that he was an "Antifa cell operative." The government accused him of moving a box of anarchist zines from one suburb of Dallas to another after a protest against U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. But now, it appears the allegations may have been nothing more than a case of mistaken identity.
On November 25th, just before Thanksgiving, Sanchez Estrada walked out of a jail parking lot without warning or explanation, beaming with relief as he took in the fresh air after months of imprisonment. His release was short-lived, however, and only lasted for about a week before he turned himself back into custody to await trial.
"I'm innocent," Sanchez Estrada said in an interview with The Intercept outside an ice cream shop in Fort Worth, Texas. "I'm not fleeing or hiding because I'm innocent. If anything, this is just proof that the system doesn't trust me."
Sanchez Estrada's case has sparked outrage among civil liberties advocates who claim it represents a disturbing trend of "guilt by literature." They argue that the prosecution's reliance on books and zines containing anti-government and anti-Trump sentiments as evidence of Sanchez Estrada's supposed affiliation with an alleged Antifa cell is a clear abuse of power.
Prosecutors claim that Sanchez Estrada's wife, Maricela Rueda, attended a chaotic protest outside ICE's Prairieland Detention Center on July 4th, where one police officer was wounded by gunfire. However, there is no evidence to suggest that Sanchez Estrada himself participated in the protest or had any involvement with the alleged Antifa cell.
Instead, he claims to have been only arrested because of his relationship with Rueda, who pleaded not guilty to life imprisonment if convicted. Sanchez Estrada maintains that he was unaware of any events outside his home and is adamant that he has nothing to do with the alleged Antifa cell.
"I did not participate," he said in his statement. "I was not aware nor did I have any knowledge about the events that transpired on July 4 outside the Prairieland Detention Center."
Sanchez Estrada's case raises serious questions about police surveillance and the targeting of individuals perceived to be radical or anti-establishment. While some may view him as a terrorist, Sanchez Estrada sees himself simply as an American citizen fighting for his freedom.
"I've been in there," he said with a hint of sadness. "I couldn't breathe fresh air, watch the sun set... I missed out on so much time with my family and friends. But now, I have this second chance."
Sanchez Estrada's return to freedom has also sparked controversy, as some argue that his release may be seen as a signal by law enforcement that they can let accused radicals go with impunity.
As Sanchez Estrada prepared to turn himself back into custody for trial, he couldn't help but think of the freshly inked tattoos of a raccoon and an opossum on his arms – symbols that represented his resilience and determination to fight against what he saw as a corrupt system.
"They're wild animals," he said with a smile. "They're beautiful."
For five months, Daniel Sanchez Estrada was behind bars on charges that he was an "Antifa cell operative." The government accused him of moving a box of anarchist zines from one suburb of Dallas to another after a protest against U.S. Immigration and Customs Enforcement. But now, it appears the allegations may have been nothing more than a case of mistaken identity.
On November 25th, just before Thanksgiving, Sanchez Estrada walked out of a jail parking lot without warning or explanation, beaming with relief as he took in the fresh air after months of imprisonment. His release was short-lived, however, and only lasted for about a week before he turned himself back into custody to await trial.
"I'm innocent," Sanchez Estrada said in an interview with The Intercept outside an ice cream shop in Fort Worth, Texas. "I'm not fleeing or hiding because I'm innocent. If anything, this is just proof that the system doesn't trust me."
Sanchez Estrada's case has sparked outrage among civil liberties advocates who claim it represents a disturbing trend of "guilt by literature." They argue that the prosecution's reliance on books and zines containing anti-government and anti-Trump sentiments as evidence of Sanchez Estrada's supposed affiliation with an alleged Antifa cell is a clear abuse of power.
Prosecutors claim that Sanchez Estrada's wife, Maricela Rueda, attended a chaotic protest outside ICE's Prairieland Detention Center on July 4th, where one police officer was wounded by gunfire. However, there is no evidence to suggest that Sanchez Estrada himself participated in the protest or had any involvement with the alleged Antifa cell.
Instead, he claims to have been only arrested because of his relationship with Rueda, who pleaded not guilty to life imprisonment if convicted. Sanchez Estrada maintains that he was unaware of any events outside his home and is adamant that he has nothing to do with the alleged Antifa cell.
"I did not participate," he said in his statement. "I was not aware nor did I have any knowledge about the events that transpired on July 4 outside the Prairieland Detention Center."
Sanchez Estrada's case raises serious questions about police surveillance and the targeting of individuals perceived to be radical or anti-establishment. While some may view him as a terrorist, Sanchez Estrada sees himself simply as an American citizen fighting for his freedom.
"I've been in there," he said with a hint of sadness. "I couldn't breathe fresh air, watch the sun set... I missed out on so much time with my family and friends. But now, I have this second chance."
Sanchez Estrada's return to freedom has also sparked controversy, as some argue that his release may be seen as a signal by law enforcement that they can let accused radicals go with impunity.
As Sanchez Estrada prepared to turn himself back into custody for trial, he couldn't help but think of the freshly inked tattoos of a raccoon and an opossum on his arms – symbols that represented his resilience and determination to fight against what he saw as a corrupt system.
"They're wild animals," he said with a smile. "They're beautiful."