Greenpeace Faces Texas Pipeline Giant in a $300 Million Fight for Its Future

On Monday, Greenpeace, the environmental advocacy group with a half-century legacy of confronting corporate power, stepped into a North Dakota courtroom to face a $300 million lawsuit from Energy Transfer, a Texas-based pipeline titan. The case, rooted in the 2016-2017 protests against the Dakota Access Pipeline, pits the nonprofit against a fossil fuel heavyweight in a legal battle that Greenpeace warns could imperil its U.S. operations—and the broader right to protest.

The trial, unfolding in Morton County’s state court, marks a critical moment for Greenpeace, which has called the lawsuit an existential threat. “This is not just about us,” the group said in a statement on its website last year. “It’s about the future of advocacy and peaceful protest.” Energy Transfer, led by billionaire Kelcy Warren, alleges that Greenpeace orchestrated a campaign of defamation, trespass, and disruption during the DAPL protests, costing the company millions. Greenpeace counters that the suit is a deliberate attempt to bankrupt its American arm and silence dissent.

Roots of the Conflict

The Dakota Access Pipeline, a 1,172-mile conduit carrying crude oil from North Dakota to Illinois, became a flashpoint in 2016 when the Standing Rock Sioux Tribe opposed its route near their reservation. The tribe argued that the pipeline, which crosses the Missouri River upstream from their water supply, threatened their sovereignty and environment. Thousands of activists, including Indigenous leaders and environmental groups like Greenpeace, rallied at Standing Rock, setting up encampments and clashing with private security and law enforcement. Hundreds were arrested amid scenes of tear gas and water cannons.

Energy Transfer completed the pipeline in June 2017, following an executive order from then-President Donald J. Trump reversing an Obama-era halt. But the company’s grievances lingered. In August 2017, it filed a federal lawsuit against Greenpeace and other groups, claiming racketeering under the RICO Act and seeking $900 million. A judge dismissed that case in 2019, finding insufficient evidence. Undeterred, Energy Transfer refiled in North Dakota state court later that year, narrowing its focus to $300 million and alleging defamation, nuisance, and interference by Greenpeace USA, Greenpeace International, and the Greenpeace Fund.

A High-Stakes Accusation

Energy Transfer’s complaint centers on nine statements Greenpeace made during the protests—none original to the group, with some drawn from letters signed by hundreds of organizations. The company accuses Greenpeace of spreading falsehoods, training protesters to damage property, and inciting violence, claims Greenpeace denies. Court filings show Energy Transfer seeks to hold the group liable for actions by individuals with no proven link to it, a legal stretch that has alarmed free speech advocates.

Greenpeace argues that its role was limited to amplifying the Indigenous-led movement, not directing it. The Standing Rock Sioux Tribe, not named in the suit, spearheaded the resistance, supported by over 300 tribal nations. More than 330,000 people and 430 organizations, including Amnesty International, have signed an open letter denouncing the lawsuit as baseless, accusing Energy Transfer of rewriting history to pin an organic uprising on Greenpeace.

The stakes are steep. Greenpeace USA has warned that a $300 million judgment—far exceeding its annual budget of roughly $40 million—could force it into bankruptcy. The group has already spent millions defending itself, a burden smaller advocacy outfits might not survive.

A Test of Corporate Power

Legal experts see the case as a textbook Strategic Lawsuit Against Public Participation (SLAPP), a tactic used by corporations to overwhelm critics with costly litigation. “This is a classic SLAPP suit,” said James Wheaton, a First Amendment scholar who founded the First Amendment Project. The approach, he noted, aims to chill activism by draining resources and deterring future protests.

Energy Transfer, a Dallas-based firm with over 125,000 miles of pipelines and a market value nearing Rs 5.5 lakh crore ($70 billion), rejects the free speech framing. In a statement, a spokesperson said the lawsuit targets illegal acts, not opinions, asserting the company’s support for lawful protest. Yet its history suggests a pattern: After the DAPL federal case failed, it pursued this state action, and its CEO, Mr. Warren, a major Trump donor with $12.5 million contributed to the 2024 campaign via company entities, has faced criticism for leveraging political ties.

The trial’s timing—under a Trump administration that took office last month—adds another layer. Greenpeace USA’s interim executive director, Sushma Raman, told reporters this month that the case tests “the future of the First Amendment” in an era of heightened corporate influence. The group has escalated its defense, filing a countersuit in a Dutch court on February 11 under the European Union’s new Anti-SLAPP Directive, the first test of a law designed to curb such lawsuits. From its Amsterdam base, Greenpeace International seeks to have the case dropped and recover legal costs.

A Pipeline’s Lingering Echoes

The DAPL protests were a watershed for environmental and Indigenous movements, inspiring global solidarity. The pipeline, operational since 2017, remains contentious: A 2020 federal ruling ordered a full environmental review, though it continues to flow pending a final decision expected later this year. Energy Transfer’s safety record—marred by spills like a 2024 incident in Ohio—has fueled ongoing opposition.

For Greenpeace, founded in 1971 with a mission to challenge environmental harm, the lawsuit is a stark reminder of the risks of activism. The group has faced corporate backlash before, notably a dismissed $900 million suit by Resolute Forest Products in 2019. But the Energy Transfer case, with a five-week trial ahead, looms larger. Win or lose, Greenpeace vows to persist, though a loss could sideline its U.S. voice at a critical climate juncture.

As the courtroom battle begins, the implications ripple beyond Mandan. Environmentalists and civil liberties groups warn that a victory for Energy Transfer could embolden other firms to wield lawsuits as weapons, shrinking the space for public dissent. In North Dakota’s windswept plains, where Standing Rock’s fight ignited a movement, the future of that resistance now hangs in the balance.