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Banned from Canada
by David Rovics
Dear folks in Canada; I have been banned from entering Canada for the next year by Canadian authorities, as of April 25th. I thought I'd shoot off some initial thoughts on the subject since many people are curious, and since I think it's pretty outrageous behavior on the part of the Canadian government.
I made many trips to Canada throughout the 1990's and was waved through every time, as far as I recall. Having a US passport generally makes international travel embarrassingly easy (as with other passports of First World countries). And still up to this day, at border after border around the world, the agent will usually ask me how long I'm staying, I respond, and my passport is stamped and I'm through. I walk past the room where other people are being taken aside for questioning, and it's always full of darker- skinned people from somewhere in the world where crossing borders is usually difficult or impossible. But with my US passport it's generally a breeze.
Going into Occupied Palestine in 2005, the Israeli intelligence
officer asked me why I had just been in Lebanon and a few other
questions, and after five minutes or so of that I was let through. My
Palestinian travel companions were detained for five hours and
eventually let in, even though they were both US citizens, so obviously
having a US passport isn't magic for everyone in every situation...
But aside from my experiences entering Canada, that five minutes at the
Jordan River terminal was the biggest hassle I ever had crossing an
international border (including coming into the US, which for me has
always been a matter of a stamp on the passport and a "hope you had a
good trip, welcome home" from the "Homeland Security" agent).
After
the WTO protests in Seattle, at which thousands of Canadians joined
tens of thousands of US citizens and others from around the world to
protest and partially shut down these meetings of the global corporate
elite, everything changed for me. As I understand it, the US and
Canada signed some kind of law that has them sharing intelligence and
using the same kinds of rules for people crossing their borders. As I
recall, the US was pressuring Canada to make their rules like the US
rules, and as usual, the Canadian government rolled over and barked as
instructed by their southern neighbor. I'm not a legal researcher
here, but as I recall, that law was passed in early 2001 in time for
the FTAA protests in Quebec City.
That was my first negative
experience with Canadian immigration authorities. I was traveling with
a friend from Germany. We had heard that everybody who said they were
going to the protests were being turned away at the border. I'm not
sure if those rumors were exactly true, but what was abundantly clear
at the border was that the Canadian authorities were acting different
than usual.
My friend and I were interrogated separately for
two hours and our vehicle thoroughly searched. For some reason after
two hours we were let through. I had the feeling that one of the
border agents was a progressive sympathizer. Other agents seemed to be
expressing quiet disgust with him that he was letting us through, but
he let us through. During the time we were being questioned, everybody
else nearby was being turned back to the US. The border agents were
using the technique of asking the same questions repeatedly, hoping to
get more information by doing so I suppose. One group of four young
men from upstate New York eventually got flustered and tired of
answering the same questions over and over, and were ostensibly turned
away for refusing to answer questions. From experiences since then, it
seems they usually like to turn people away for something other than
the real reason they're turning people away. (They were turning people
away because they were going to attend the FTAA protests, clearly.)
After
that experience it became a hit or miss kind of thing, crossing the
Canadian border. My Canadian friends and fellow activists have had
similar problems crossing the other way since that time period
especially. With the rise of the global justice movement in Europe,
too, border security became much more intense, too, but only during
times of major international protests. Within the EU there are usually
essentially no borders, once you're in, you just drive across national
borders as you'd drive from New Brunswick to Nova Scotia. During big
protests since the rise of the global justice movement, there are
suddenly border crossings to go through, and often, to be turned back
from.
But at the same time, my impression is that the European
authorities do not share the same intelligence database as the US
authorities. My impression (and my understanding of international
agreements between the US and Canada) is that the US and Canada share
everything. Either way, I got on the radar of the Canadian authorities
in 2001 and I have been on it ever since. Crossing the Canadian border
used to be almost as easy as it usually still is within Europe, but
since 2001 I get waved through occasionally, but more often, if they
look up my name in their computers, I get trouble. Usually they ask me
questions for an hour or two, search my bags and my vehicle if I'm
driving across, using dogs to search for drugs. They ask me about all
the other troubles I've had crossing the border, and treat me with
obvious, though polite, suspicion (except for the occasional
progressive sympathizer working for immigration).
After being
questioned and searched I'm usually let through. Other times I haven't
been quite so lucky. In some years I've crossed into Canada maybe 8 or
10 times in one year. Most of my life I've lived within a day's drive
of the border, and for many years I've had good friends in Canada and
visited them fairly often, so I've got a pretty large sample of
border-crossing experiences to draw from.
In 2002, in the days
leading up to the G8 protests in Alberta, I was turned away at the
border with Montana. Everybody at the crossing was being stopped and
searched during that week -- grandma and grandpa in their RV, Blackfeet
people who live on both sides of the border and normally cross easily,
everybody. Most of the time I was in a room with a nice man who worked
for immigration, so I didn't notice how many other people were turned
away, but it was clear going in that everybody was being stopped and
searched. The nice man working for immigration was a musician, and we
talked about music and bonded. He said they'd have to search my
vehicle for drugs and weapons and such and then I'd be on my way if
they didn't find anything. They didn't find anything, other than some
literature that the searchers found suspicious because of the words
"direct action."
But what really seemed to be the thing was the
piece of paper that came out of their computer system -- the "direct
action" literature (some random piece of paper from some anarchists in
Wisconsin I had inadvertently picked up and brought with me) was the
excuse.
The nice man was nervous, evidently freaked out by the
inconsistencies between his view of what Canada was supposed to be
about, and what it actually is about. He said emphatically a few
times, "Canada is not a police state." (His tone of voice said,
"Canada is not supposed to be a police state.") I don't think he was
supposed to show me the paper. Hands shaking, he did. It was
specifically about me. There were no particular allegations of prior
wrongdoing, but the paper said specifically that David Rovics was an
activist from the US who would probably be trying to cross the border
to go to the G8 protests and that he was up to no good and should be
run through the ringer. It didn't specifically say I should be turned
away, but that seemed to be the indicated policy decision. The man
told me he could lose his job if he let me across. Reluctantly, he
told me to go back to the US, and further informed me that there would
be an all-points warning put out about me, so that if I tried to cross
the border anywhere else in the next eight days I would be arrested and
detained until the G8 protests were over.
In the following few
years I was once given 48 hours to leave Canada -- I was on my way from
the US to Europe, switching planes in Toronto, but also spending a
couple days with friends there on the way. (It was a simple case of
Air Canada having the cheapest tickets, and I figured I'd stop and
visit friends if I was going to go through Toronto anyway.) Another
time I was turned away from the border, but told that I could enter if
I came without my guitar. I left my vehicle and guitar behind in
Blaine, Washington and a friend from Vancouver picked me up.
That
time, and apparently last week, the concern was that I was going to
Canada to play a gig without a work permit. Last week they started by
thoroughly searching my car and my bag. They threatened to
strip-search me but deciding against it. They had a nice doggie sniff
me and my bag. Like millions of amiable people on both sides of the
border, I'm a regular user of marijuana, so the dog got very excited
about the aroma of my bag and my car. Canadian law is pretty lax about
pot, so the customs folks didn't seem to care much about it either way,
apparently more interested in larger quantities of harder drugs (which
were not to be found) than the trace elements the dog found.
For
the first time in my experience, the immigration folks actually looked
on the web and found out that I was supposed to be playing at the
Railway Club that night. As always, I told then I was going to visit
friends. This, obviously, was a half-truth or lie, depending. Like
the vast majority of musicians who travel between countries in North
America and Europe to play gigs, I have never had a work permit. This
was the first time I was really caught red-handed at the border with a
gig they found on the web, and this was the ostensible excuse for being
banned from Canada for one year.
On the Exclusion Order I was
given, however, it doesn't seem to say anything about that. It says I
was turned away due to a section of the Immigration and Refugee
Protection Act and Regulations of 2001. Specifically "paragraph
20(1)(B) of the act that every foreign national ... who seeks to enter
or remain in Canada must establish to become a temporary resident, that
they hold the visa or other document required under the regulations and
will leave Canada by the end of the period authorized for their stay."
I'm
not a lawyer, but this seems weird, given that I could easily prove
that I had plans to fly to Europe a few days later, and they never
asked me to prove that I intended to leave Canada soon. (In the past
they have often asked when I'm leaving and asked me to prove it.) I
was kept waiting for close to three hours, and during the time I was
sitting there lots of people were brought in for questioning and
searching, and almost all of them were people of color, mostly from
east or south Asia. One legal US resident originally from Mexico was
turned away from the border, everybody else was eventually let through.
In
any case, I think it's worth saying a little more about going to other
countries to play gigs, and what's involved. Perhaps it's partly
because I'm existing below the radar in other countries, but it's been
my experience that most countries have an institutionalized disinterest
in people going to their country from the US to play a few gigs. They
ask how long you're staying and they don't care that you have a guitar
on your back, and then they stamp your passport with no further
questions asked.
I don't know how long it's been this way or
what the reasoning is, but my impression is most countries don't really
care about minor transgressions like playing a gig without a work
permit. They presumably are aware that most musicians are living
economically marginal existences and that the financial and logistical
realities of getting a work permit just to play a couple of gigs makes
it unlikely that musicians are generally traveling with work permits,
aside from the big stars and such. Or maybe they just don't think it's
worth their time and resources to go after such small fry. In any
case, they generally don't bother.
I know of other musicians
who have been turned away from borders over the years, turned away from
the UK, from Ireland, from Canada, and certainly from the US. Most of
the musicians from First World countries that I know, though, including
most of the openly leftwing musicians I know from Europe and North
America, have no problem crossing borders. I would venture to say that
whether my problems with the Canadian border are related to my bad
luck, or the sharing of intelligence data with US authorities, or me
being political, or me being a musician without a work permit, it's
political.
When musicians are being turned away from the border
because they don't have a work permit to play a couple of gigs, while
multinational corporations operate more freely across borders than ever
before in the disastrous age of NAFTA, this is political. When
activists with no record of violent crime are being turned away from
the border because they have activist literature in their vehicle, this
is political. And if excuses are being made up in order to turn
someone away from the border because agents have received a directive
from the CIA or CSIS or whoever to do so, this is political. And if
someone is being turned away from the border for some unknown and
unknowable combination of these reasons, this is political.
I
don't believe in borders and I think they should all be abolished,
especially the borders of large, rich countries that are underpopulated
and where the government has a policy of economically and militarily
screwing the Third World, as Canada most definitely does. But if the
Canadian authorities want to turn people away from their border because
they have a violent criminal history, there are lots of war criminals
in the US who should definitely be turned away. But instead, they are
invited to speak to the parliament and help them make their laws and
foreign policies. If the Canadian government wants to turn people away
for taking away the jobs of Canadian workers, there are plenty of
US-based multinationals who are directly responsible for the sorry
state of much of the Canadian economy -- just go visit the ex-factory
towns in Ontario or Nova Scotia if you don't know what I'm talking
about, and then go visit the squalid Maquiladoras in Tijuana where much
of that industry has moved to.
When the great musician and
activist Paul Robeson had his US passport taken away so thart he
couldn't perform and agitate in other countries, Canadian activists
organized a concert on the border in Blaine, Washington. Robeson stood
in Blaine and sang for people on the Canadian side in Douglas. I
thought about that concert as I drove to the border, through the park
that separates these two countries. These two countries with so much
in common. These two nations both built upon the slaughter of the
native populations and the systematic theft of their lives, lands and
livelihoods. These two illegitimate nations so full of settlers and
thieves. Up to this so-called border.
Some folks in Vancouver
have written me about organizing a concert like that one, on the
border, sometime this summer. I've recently moved to Portland, Oregon,
and I'll be in the area from mid-June to mid-July and again for the
month of September. I'm looking forward to the event if it comes
together. In the scheme of things, being banned from Canada for a year
is not a crippling blow for me, and in terms of me personally it's
definitely not worth spending your time trying to do anything about
this, unless you see it as a useful thing in the course of a campaign
against Canadian policies, against borders in general, or whatever, in
which case feel free. I do, however, look forward to the prospect of a
concert on the border, and I hope to see some of you there.
To
add one more thought, there have been suggestions that this one-year
ban may be related to my support for the Palestinian struggle. I have
no idea whether this is or isn't the case. I was heading towards
Vancouver to do a show at the the Railway Club and for a reception at
the Palestinian Cultural Centre. The immigration people only mentioned
the gig at the Railway Club. Of course, there could very well be
legitimacy to this speculation, I just don't know. (Hard to know these
things when the government doesn't tell you...)
Yours,
David Rovics
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Early 90's, Pink Floyd hits Vancouver and plays for two days in a row. As a huge fan of Pink Floyd my mates and I managed to round up tickets for the two consecutive days. One of my mates had a vehicle so transport wasn't a problem. I had a reliable contact for the herb so that wasn't a problem either. Five grams weighed (!!) of good quality bud, the only contact I had that actually weighed it for me and charged reasonably. We're ready to go.
It's a bit a journey to Vancouver and we happened to pass Point Roberts border crossing along the way. That's when the idea to fill up on some American fuel and cigarettes for the journey came into plan. Why not, it'll only take us 30 minutes to an hour and we'll be out like a flash!?
For those who don't know Point Roberts, it's a little piece of land attached to Canadian soil and surrounded by American waters. There's not much to see in Point Roberts and not far to explore since there is really no different in the surrounding landscape. It does have access to cheaper (than Canadian pricing) fuel and American products. I'm sure if you wanted to you could catch a ferry to the American main land but it's easier to go thirty minutes down the road and cross over there. Let's face it, Point Roberts is a tiny piece of land with nothing to offer other than a t shirt and or a button for your lapel.
I had two options, ginch the gear or stash it on the side of the road and pick it up on the way back. Out came the gear from my cigarette pack and into my underwear it went. It was all very easy since it was in a little baggie. No problems, we'll be in and out in a flash. As we pull up to the boarder crossing, up comes Mr. Immigration Officer and the obvious question "What reason do you boys have for coming into Point Roberts?"
To my surprise the driver, who had never crossed the border before answered honestly but with too much info. "We're on our way to the Pink Floyd concert in Vancouver and we're stopping off to grab some gasoline and cigarettes." Honesty is fine but that's a bit too much info for three long haired "hippy Jesus freaks" in a well cared for but scruffy 4x4.
"Pull over and park there", instructs Mr. Officer.
First the search of the vehicle and then a cross counter interrogation, Empty your pockets. Oh, a cigarette pack!! Out come the cigarettes and he taps out the crumbs of tobacco which were on left in the bottom of the pack. As he analyses the crumbs with the tip of his pen he manages to come across one crumb that "happens to be a little too green". You might think that I'm exaggerating but I'm not, it was one crumb that gave me away. A crumb no bigger than the crumbs of tobacco that didn't manage to stay in those poor quality, highly addictive, carcinogenic sticks that they freely sell across the counter and tax the hell out of us for.
Strip search.
I never once put up a fight. I didn't deny anything. I accepted my fate 100%, not that there was much I could do. I just hoped we would make it to the concert on time or at least my friends, which were set free as I was they only one with gear and declared responsibility. I then sat in a cell the size of a closet with one window out into the office for 5 hours as they waited for the sheriff and then "debated on whether they'll ship me to Seattle to be deported".
Occasionally the typical american cop attitude looked into my cell to make sure I didn't hang myself with my belt with those cop shades that you thought they only sold for cheap hollywood cop TV programs and packing a huge hand cannon sufficient for taking down bears.
The only time I voiced myself was in the presence of the Sheriff at the attempt of the interrogating officer to frame me with the weight of 11 grams, more than double the weight I actually had.
At that point I just about lost it. "It does not weigh 11 grams! Weigh it again and this time without the baggie (not that a baggie weighs 6 grams.)!! "
"What does it matter a few grams more, your still going to be prosecuted" protests the officer.
To which I answered, "I've been straight and cooperative with you from the beginning, now it's your turn to treat me with fairness!!"
In a way he's right. The law convicts starting from something like .01 of a gram to 40 grams, a rather broad range but with room for interpretation. He must have been embarrassed for all the kurfuffle over such a small quantity of pot and felt the need to double the weight, but there's is still a difference, in my minds eye, when 11 grams starts to push in to the fringe of questioning "Why so much in one go?? Are you thinking of trafficking?"
The real weight of 5 grams was then declared and accepted.
I was released with bail and a court case pending. We made it to the concert!
A few months later my court case came up and I was back on the road to the good ol' US of A. We decided to leave the night before since my case was first thing in the morning. I just wanted to get it over with, in and out and back to my life as usual. We arrived at the border crossing nearing 2300 hrs. Typical questioning began, starting with the welcoming committee and then, of course, the officer at the counter.
The officer at the counter asked my reason for entering to which I replied with the truth, " I'm entering for my court case tomorrow."
I then handed the paperwork which the sheriff at Point Roberts instructed me to show upon entry, he assured I would have no problem.
The mature lady officer studied the paperwork and sternly replied "Aren't you a bit early?"
"I don't want to arrive late. We'll stay the night near the courts and that way I'll have no problem."
She went off to ask a few questions and returned. "You'll have to come back tomorrow and try then. We don't want criminals such as yourself entering our country."
Alright, alright, alright. Excuuuuuusssse me! I have a clear criminal record. I've never committed, nor felt the need, nor want, to commit antisocial behavior in my life. I'm not that type of person. I'm non violent, I don't steal, and treat people how I expect to be treated. Not once in this conversation was I disrespectful, nor was I once cheeky. Where in the hell did this arrogance come from?
My response was unreserved. "Look here lady! I have come here out of need. I have a court date! I have not one inkling of a desire to enter YOUR country nor do I want to set foot in YOUR country. I only enter YOUR country for ONE thing, to go to YOUR courts, to do what is ordered of me and to leave when all is said and done. So what you're saying is I have to return tomorrow!?"
"I'm sorry sir, you'll have to return tomorrow."
At least the Old Hag included a "sorry" in her reply, even if she didn't feel it.
I returned the day after to be rejected for not having the right paper work and I had to return weeks later after receiving the correct paper work. I returned the second time with no problems. Entered early in the morning and arrived on time.
I sat in the court room sharing it with about 20 people more, Each standing at the order of the judge, hearing the charges against them, declaring and sitting back down to await sentencing or to broaden on the conditions of their defense and case. It reminded me of McDonald’s, um…..very efficient. I went with firm mind to enter, comply and leave with little or no problems as to go on with my life, I pleaded guilty.
Once again it was my turn to stand up this time for sentencing. He read out what, where and why of my charges, confirmed my declaration and gave me my opportunity to speak, to which I asked that I the courts give me the minimum of sentencing due to the small quantity of pot and good conduct as I have important commitments back home."
Of course, the judge doesn't modify laws but as it was a first conviction, the minimum in sentencing was applied in all cases, a $1200 fine and 24 hours in jail.
I sat back down. Out of the blue the person sitting in front of me, a well dressed Mexican man with brief case, turned around and said,
"You should have pleaded "not guilty". Rest assured that they've already smoked the evidence."
That same day I paid my fine, went to jail and did my time. I also picked up the paper work for the waiver in order to enter the US in the future. It slowly came into realization that without a waiver I can NEVER set foot into the US. The waiver is for one year, which you must pay, upon application, $120 (? a decade ago) with NO guarantee that you'll be accepted. If you are denied you have to pay $120 again for another attempt. But that didn't really bother me. What really bothered me was that I had to voluntarily "inform" the RCMP on my waiver attempt and receive a written reply! Am I "informing" the RCMP or am I registering myself and voluntarily giving myself a criminal record in my own country on the behalf of the US of A? I'm sorry I refuse to do so, therefore I refuse to enter the US of A. They have enough criminals over there they don't need one more.
I have since managed to live a full and happy life without setting foot in the US, for the last decade since this incident and I hope to do so for the years to come. I have since quit tobacco several times but this time I have managed to keep away from drug laced cigarettes for the last 4 months. I do plan a relapse in the future but with a top quality Havana cigar, the ones that last for 2 hours or more, not the poor quality, additive ridden, drug laced tobacco in legal, tailor made cigarettes that the government has allowed to be modified and unchecked over the decades under the ideals of the "purist capitalist spirit".
As for Ganja, I've just plain stopped smoking it regularly several years ago. I very rarely take a puff and find no real want to, nor do I especially want to deal with its after effects but find no offense in doing so if I do please. I regularly opt for a lovely beer, good quality wine and or a lovely glass of straight single malt scotch whiskey, all examples of a drug that does infinitely more damage to other people and families than marijuana.
I agree that Canada has been converted into America's lackey by our greedy non imaginative politicians. If Americans ever had a politician even close to likes of the crap that Canadians have needed to support over the years, including the most recent, Harper, they would never had passed into presidency alive. They would have been shot before they had a chance to reach the position and lead the country into subservience. Hopefully those Canadian nationalists that are never given a chance to be heard will not fade away into obscurity and Canadians will be given a chance to try to build a free and sovereign nation.