To some he’s a stubborn scofflaw who got in over his head. To federal prosecutors, he’s the leader of a criminal conspiracy that endangered hundreds of lives.

But, as you might have guessed by now, that’s not how embattled Bunkerville rancher Cliven Bundy sees himself.

In a criminal conspiracy trial rising from an April 2014 armed standoff between his supporters and federal agents present to provide security for a court-ordered cattle impoundment, Bundy perceives himself as a historic agent of change. At least, that’s what some of his letters to the Bureau of Land Management and others in recent years indicate. (Bundy’s small army of supporters see things that way, too.)

Department of Justice attorney Terry Petrie, in recent years the government’s lead prosecutor in Bundy’s two-decade-long civil dispute over grazing rights, read briefly from one of those missives while on the witness stand last week in U.S. District Court during a criminal trial that could put Bundy and three other defendants behind bars for decades.

Petrie, with the Denver field office of the DOJ’s Environmental and Natural Resources Division, recounted how he joined the Bundy grazing dispute already in progress in 2012 in a case that stretched back to the early 1990s. Bundy represented himself in the litigation.

Part of Bundy’s recalcitrance can be traced to the federal designation of the desert tortoise as a threatened species, a 1990 decision that narrowed the calendar of desert ranchers’ ephemeral grazing rights (those controlled in part by the the presence of drought and the amount of available forage.) While other ranchers sold their rights to Clark County, Bundy stopped paying his fees to the BLM while simultaneously expanding his range into the Gold Butte area.

In a professional, understated manner, the DOJ veteran recounted incidents between Bundy and BLM officials that gave him pause. In a few minutes, jurors heard about the time the rancher blocked government contractors from removing burros and wild horses from land he considered under his control. They learned that Bundy questioned the federal government’s legal authority over large swaths of desert officially known as  the Bunkerville Allotment and the Gold Butte area.

They also heard excerpts from Bundy’s letters and self-styled legal notices to BLM officials and others in which he describes his place in the battle for control of federal public land, which he believes should be the purview of the state.

At one point, Bundy wrote in a letter introduced into evidence and read by Petrie, “They have often attempted to paint me as a violent person when all I have done is stand up for my property and rights. The fight today is no different than the civil rights days when Rosa Parks defied illegal local law and took her rightful place in the front of the bus. I have to take that same front seat and stand for my rights here today.”

While some will surely be offended by the comparison, and others will write it off to the ranting of a scofflaw tangled in a legal lasso of his own making, Bundy’s view of the federal government as more tyrant than servant is pretty common in the rural West.

His problem, of course, is not whether others see him as a civil rights or land rights advocate, but whether a jury perceives him as a clever fellow who attempted to round up armed supporters to his side to prevent federal officials from carrying out a court-ordered cattle impoundment.

He let it be known in 2012 that armed ranchers from the region would join him, prosecutors contend. And in 2014, those ranchers were replaced by militia members who heeded a call to arms that went out nationwide thanks to co-defendant Ryan Payne and his Operation Mutual Aid social media network.

“I take issue with anyone who would try to paint me as some wacko extremist,” Bundy wrote. “I do not advocate violence and only want a legal and peaceful conclusion to the issue and my rights protected.”

Perhaps that’s so, but under Petrie’s questioning during a deposition in the civil case Bundy made it sound as if nothing -- not even violence -- was off the table when he repeatedly said, “I will do whatever it takes.”

Despite his best efforts, Petrie couldn’t get Bundy to elaborate. Did he mean he’d resort to violence against his fellow citizens to prevent the removal of his trespass cattle?

“You’re not going to get that out of me,” Bundy replied.

The events of April 12, 2014 assured Cliven Bundy a place in the history of western land disputes.

As for a seat on the bus next to Rosa Parks, well, let’s just say the jury’s still out.

John L. Smith is a longtime journalist and author. Contact him at [email protected]. On Twitter: @jlnevadasmith.