SPOTLIGHT ON VANCOUVER

A CRASH COURSE ON FIGHTING THE NARCO-WARRIORS

Vancouver, on Canada's west coast, is proving to be a nightmare for
those who insist on fighting the war on drugs.

From constitutional court challenges to the creation of the largest
medicinal marijuana club in the country, this Pacific Coast city is
full of activists who are organizing against the drug warriors.

As a case in point, consider David Malmo-Levine, a Vancouver pot
activist who is fighting to have Canada's marijuana laws declared
unconstitutional. The laws, he tells me, could be struck down by the
end of this year.

"It could be as soon as early-December," the 31-year-old predicts. "At
the latest by mid-July (2003)."

This coming Fall, the Supreme Court of Canada is scheduled to hear a
constitutional challenge against sections of the Narcotic Control Act
that prohibit possession and trafficking of marijuana. A final ruling
will likely come several months later.

The historic legal challenge is being led by Malmo-Levine, who was
charged in December 1996 for both possession and trafficking of
marijuana, and two other men: Victor Eugene Caine, aka Randy Caine,
and Ontario-resident Christopher Clay.

Rather than launch separate court actions, the three men, who were all
charged with marijuana offences in separate incidents, will present a
united constitutional challenge in the Supreme Court. If they win, it
could start a revolution in Canada's approach to the war on drugs.

In the meantime, as he prepares for his historic Supreme Court battle,
Malmo-Levine is busy working on another project, namely, informing his
fellow citizens about the presence of U.S. Drug Enforcement
Administration agents on Canadian soil.

As we sit in a restaurant called Havana's -- an appropriate place to
give the bird to Washington's drug policy -- Malmo-Levine begins his
verbal assault on the U.S.

"They (the DEA) are in our country giving us bad advice," he says.
"Canada has always been morally ahead of the U.S. We did it with
slavery, the women's vote, alcohol prohibition, Cuba, Vietnam and the
death penalty." If things turn in his favour, we may soon add "drug
prohibition" to this list.

For those in the U.S., who are accustomed to an insane anti-drug
jihad, the upcoming Supreme Court of Canada case and anti-DEA work is
pretty remarkable. If you travel north of the 49th parallel, however,
you will quickly notice that there are many other initiatives being
launched by Canadian activists to fight the war on drugs.

One such initiative is the Vancouver Area Network of Drug Users, a
lobby group for intravenous drug users and former users that was
founded in January 1998. The group, one of the largest of its kind in
the world, has had a big impact since it came on the scene more than
four years ago.

"The reduction in overdose deaths can be attributable to our work,"
says Dean Wilson, president of VANDU.

The statistics support Wilson's statement. Between January and May of
this year, there were 21 fatal drug overdose deaths in Vancouver,
according to the coroner's office. During the same period last year
the figure was 48.

The 2002 and 2001 figures, meanwhile, are significantly lower than the
horrific overdose numbers of even a few years ago. In a story dated
Aug. 11, 1998, the Associated Press reported that: "So far this year,
224 people in British Columbia -- mostly from Vancouver's skid-row
areas -- have died of overdoses, up 40 percent from last year."

In response to the horrific level of death that plagued the city in
the mid-to late-90's, VANDU began to educate drug users about how to
prevent overdoses. That is why if you walk by their needle exchange
program today, you can hear VANDU volunteers tell drug users not to
shoot up alone, as well as offering techniques on how to prevent the
spreading of disease.

Through projects like the needle exchange, VANDU has lobbied local
politicians and the police to adopt harm reduction models when dealing
with drugs. They also give a voice to drug users, a segment of society
that is normally left out when drug policies are debated.

As a side note, it's interesting to note that harm reduction is now
the official policy of the Vancouver Police Board. How much of a role
VANDU played in the police board's decision to adopt harm reduction is
not clear. But as one member of VANDU put it: "It's like asking
whether the NAACP helped advance the cause of civil rights."

Another person who has dedicated their life to helping people is
Hilary Black, founder and co-director of the BC Compassion Club
Society, Canada's largest medicinal marijuana organization.

Five years ago, armed solely with a dream and backpack full of pot,
Black began selling marijuana to Vancouver residents who were sick.
After getting 100 clients, along with the backing of their doctors,
Black went public with her idea to use marijuana for medicinal purposes.

Today, the Compassion Club has over 2,000 members and 35 employees. It
is also meticulously clean -- the reception area could pass for a
dentist's office filled with plants, if it weren't for the board on
the wall that listed the day's selection of marijuana.

What is really interesting, however, is all the other options that the
club offers to its members. Along with marijuana, patients can access
a herbal pharmacy, certified counselors, a yoga program, traditional
Chinese medicine, acupuncture and many other medical treatments.

The story of Black, 26, is a wonderful example of what citizens can
accomplish when they follow their conscience.

"We have a duty to protest laws that are unethical," Black tells me in
her office. "We have truth and justice on our side, and in this case
the law does not have it."

John Richardson, a local lawyer and founding member of Pivot Legal
Society, would definitely agree with Black. It was a sense of justice
that drove him to create Pivot, a non-profit organization in
Vancouver's downtown Eastside that is also challenging the narco warriors.

For the record, I am a University of British Columbia law student that
volunteers for Pivot. That is why I'm talking shop with Richardson,
31, on a Saturday afternoon over lunch.

"(In the fall of 2000) I was working in the downtown Eastside in
strategic litigation for the Sierra Legal Defense Fund," Richardson
tells me after I ask him how he created Pivot. "The model that Sierra
Legal uses -- which is essentially aggressive legal advocacy for
public interest -- fit in perfectly with the downtown Eastside."

While at Sierra Legal, an environmental law group, Richardson learned
how to use the law to fight polluters and government bureaucrats.
Through this experience he came across this idea: Why not use the same
legal model as Sierra to defend drug users, sex trade workers and
other marginalized persons?

Today, lawyers, law students and community activists all volunteer in
various Pivot projects.

One such project is the affidavit program, which is based on a simple
idea: Record in a legal format the story of any person that has
suffered an illegal search and seizure, unconstitutional arrest or
other form of police abuse. After the story has been written down,
have the person swear before Richardson that the events described
therein are true. Once this is done the story becomes evidence that
can be used in a court of law.

Through this program, Pivot has been able to document police abuses
against drug users. For instance, one person I talked to -- le us call
him Delphi Nguyen -- was busted with $15 of heroin. The police never
pressed charges, but they did take $740. Nguyen told me that this was
his rent money, and that after losing it to the police was not able to
pay his rent. As a result, he lost his apartment and was forced to
sleep in his car as he scrambled for housing.

A team of lawyers is currently deciding what legal action to take with
the increasing number of affidavits.

Pivot, meanwhile, is also distributing a "rights" card that outlines a
person's constitutional rights when detained by police. The
business-size card is meant to fit in a pocket or wallet. Whenever a
person is arrested, they can present the card to the officer. The card
informs the police that they do not have to co-operate and that a
person being detained has the right to remain silent and to speak to a
lawyer.

The card is meant to protect people from such things as illegal drug
searches and unconstitutional arrests, two police tactics that are
very popular with the narco warriors.

Pivot's projects, along with the work of VANDU and activists like
Black and Malmo-Levine, show that Vancouver residents are busy
fighting the war on drugs on several fronts.

For Malmo-Levine, the struggle is about challenging a failed policy
that is costing Canadian taxpayers $500 million a year and is
resulting in more than 30,000 charges for simple possession of marijuana.

For Wilson, the objective is to save lives, prevent disease and give a
voice to drug users, a group that is normally marginalized from the
drug debate but who suffer the full brunt of the law.

For Black, the goal is to educate people about how marijuana and other
forms of alternative medicine can provide assistance to ill people.

And for Richardson, his mission is to use the law to defend the
constitutional rights of some of the most marginalized people in society.

Together, all of these activists are putting up a strong challenge
against those who insist on fighting a drug war that has repeatedly
been shown to fail.