ONE ANTI-HIV TOOL: EMBARRASSMENT

Unique Tribe of Activists Stands Ready to Shame the Negligent and the Greedy

These are some of the tools AIDS activists like Paul Davis use to
fight the lethal virus: fake blood and banners, padlocked lengths of
chain, foam sculptures -- and this week, maybe even a few funeral urns.

It's a far cry from the orthodox measures employed in the high-stakes
medical battle. While infectious-disease researchers, politicians and
aid agencies this week discuss advances in protease inhibitors or
safe needle exchange programs, Davis and about 1,000 other activists
have flocked to Toronto to protest allegedly greed-fuelled drug
companies and idle politicians.

With 22,000 delegates and 8,000 journalists, exhibitors, volunteers
and staff at the mammoth International AIDS Conference, there is no
better opportunity to spotlight their gripes.

"We're trying to capture the imagination of the public and provoke a
response from decision-makers," said Davis, who has worked with the
group Act Up Philadelphia for 13 years.

For the past few days, dozens of activists have been stationed at the
University of Toronto, formulating plans behind closed doors and
conducting informal sessions for nascent protestors on how to
interact with reporters.

Yesterday, activists held a small protest at the Metro Toronto
Convention Centre. But they pledge more to come.

At past conferences, protestors have held mock trials for world
leaders and staged "die-ins," zipping themselves into body bags, or
"chain-ins," chaining themselves to fixed objects.

"A lot of what we do is street theatre," said Eric Sawyer, a New
Yorker who has helped launch three AIDS groups. "We basically won't
do anything that might cause physical harm or permanent damage, but
anything else goes -- and embarrassment is a big tool."

When it comes to humiliating political or corporate leaders, several
activists said Davis, 36, is as gifted as they come. One idea he said
he might try this week would be to buy funeral urns to "present" to
drug company officials.

"To play off the 'You earn, we urn' angle, you know?" Davis mused.

Matthew Kavanagh, of the Student Global AIDS Campaign, said one
prospective target this week is Abbott Laboratories, which has been
criticized for not providing broad access in Africa to a new version
of its Kaletra medication that needs no refrigeration.

Toronto Police Insp. Donald Campbell, who is overseeing policing at
the conference site, said no arrests had been made there as of early
last night, perhaps as a result of a meeting he held with activist
leaders last week.

"We basically went over Canadian law, talking about what constitutes
a criminal act and what they are allowed to do," Campbell said. "We
talked about whether putting stickers on a company booth is criminal
and things like our release laws." It's possible that a non-Canadian
arrested in Toronto would have to post bond as high as $500 to be
released, Campbell said.

"I think it's great that we were able to sit down in the same room
together," Campbell said of the meeting. "That wouldn't have happened
10 years ago."

Hokey or not, activists have proved deft at grabbing attention since
the inaugural AIDS conference in Atlanta in 1985. They've stoked
controversy by crumbling a communion wafer at St. Patrick's Cathedral
in New York; halted trading at the New York Stock Exchange; decorated
a float at New York's Gay Pride parade as a concentration camp;
draped a huge condom over the home of U.S. Senator Jesse Helms; and
dumped the ashes of AIDS victims on the White House lawn.

At the Barcelona AIDS conference in 2002, activists stormed the
stage, interrupting a speech by U.S. Secretary of Health and Human
Services Tommy Thompson. Screaming "Shame!" they bore signs that
accused the U.S. of murder and neglect because it hadn't committed
enough to AIDS research and prevention. When they were forced
offstage, whistles and jeers drowned out the rest of Thompson's speech.

Two years ago, at the Bangkok conference, it was a new drug trial in
Cambodia that raised activists' hackles. They charged that sex
workers and other marginalized people had been recruited for the
trial because they didn't have the leverage to negotiate insurance or
a pledge that they would be cared for if they fell ill during the trial period.

Act Up Paris and some prostitutes stormed a stage during a scientific
session and splattered company booths with fake blood. "I don't know
what they use, but it's the perfect consistency of real blood," Davis
said, enviously. "It's some sugary concoction."

Not every protest goes off as planned.

At the Toronto opening, some protestors held aloft lab coats
spray-painted with slogans to highlight a lack of health care workers
in Africa.

Waiting beside the stage for his turn to speak, Microsoft's Bill
Gates squinted at the offerings before turning to his wife and
asking: "What's it say? They should have made the words bigger."

Nevertheless, AIDS activists contend their actions have helped to
speed up clinical trials and lower their cost.

"We basically said, 'Look, our people are dying right now and are
going to be dead by the time the government makes sure a new drug was
safe,'" Sawyer said. "We had nothing to lose by taking it sooner."