Campbell's Soup

2006-06-06T10:36:00.000-07:00

COPE Classic Allies Fry Bass

By Charlie Smith
Georgia Straight
February 10, 2005

Two of COPE Coun. Fred Bass's allies on council have criticized his blunt address to Mayor Larry Campbell at a February 6 party-members' meeting. So-called COPE Classic councillors Ellen Woods-worth and Anne Roberts each told the Georgia Straight that they disagreed with Bass's decision to use the meeting as a forum to criticize Campbell. In the past, Roberts and Woodsworth have voted with Bass and against the mayor in opposition to both the Olympic bid and slot machines at Hastings Park.

Bass began his February 6 speech by listing the COPE council's "accomplishments". He highlighted the new ethical-purchasing policy, the redesign of the Woodward's building, North America's first safe-injection site, and legalization of secondary suites. Bass then prefaced his remarks about Campbell by describing himself as a "true friend", adding that as a "true friend", he was telling the mayor he was "off course". Bass went on to accuse Campbell of turning his back on COPE's debt and "doing something unethical" by creating a "splinter caucus" and raising funds separately. Bass also asked Campbell "not to be a Trojan horse" and "to stop your factional war within COPE".

Woodsworth said she felt it was "extremely inappropriate" for Bass to make these comments at a meeting convened for members to ask questions of elected officials. "I thought it was a personal attack, and he left the mayor in an impossible situation to respond to the concepts," Woodsworth said.

Roberts said she didn't think the way Bass spoke was "helpful", adding that she conveyed her views to Campbell. "It was a choice that Fred made about how he did that and what he did," Roberts said. "Just to clarify, it wasn't what I would have done."

Bass told the Straight that some media outlets have overlooked the speech's key point that diversity and dissent are "very important ingredients for solving complex political problems". At the end of his February 6 address, he told the media that it would be "easy" to report his comments as dissension within COPE rather than an attempt to build unity. On the two following days, the Vancouver Sun characterized Bass's comments in large type as a "personal attack" on the mayor.

"To describe it as a personal attack on the mayor is a distortion of what I said," Bass said. "I very clearly said, 'I want you, Larry Campbell, to be leader of a united COPE caucus.' "

Near the beginning of his speech, Bass praised the mayor for "a quick and profound wit, a high capacity for work, and the capacity to relate to a wide variety of people". Bass also claimed that Campbell sometimes demonstrated an "intolerance of dissent" and "disrespect for those who do not share your point of view".

"No councillor should ever have to choose between loyalty to the mayor or loyalty to the platform on which he or she ran," Bass said at the meeting. "I challenge you to show true political leadership by promoting teamwork that allows for democratic differences, rather than insisting on chain-of-command obedience and conformity."

At a February 7 news conference, Campbell claimed that he has kept every promise in the COPE platform except one: ensuring that tax increases stayed below inflation. "You can chalk that up to stupidity or ignorance on my part," Campbell said. "Other than that, everything else that we ran for we have done one way or the other. That includes the Olympics. That includes RAV. And that includes downsizing the number of casinos in the city."

Campbell didn't mention that as a TransLink director, he voted in favour of transit-fare increases even though his party promised a freeze. COPE candidates also told the WestEnder newspaper in a preelection survey that they opposed the introduction of slot machines, yet Campbell's faction voted last year to lift the city's moratorium.

At the end of his news conference, Campbell said that he has invited COPE Classic councillors to attend meetings of his independent caucus, which includes Jim Green, Raymond Louie, and Tim Stevenson. When asked if any had accepted the offer, Campbell said "no".

Roberts, however, claimed that she has never received an invitation to attend independent COPE caucus meetings. Roberts also alleged that her group "consistently" invites Campbell and his allies to its meetings, and none has ever accepted.

2006-06-06T10:35:00.000-07:00

Fundraiser bypassing COPE

By Allen Garr
Vancouver Courier
November 29, 2004

You may want to think of the COPE fundraiser last week as Larry Campbell's Last Supper. It could well be the last time the mayor is the front man for the party he led to a landslide victory.

You will see the possible beginning of the end Dec. 11, but more on that in a moment.

As regular readers know, Campbell started muttering about running as an independent candidate a nanosecond after his election victory. That's when the first fight broke out between him and the COPE Classics.

He continues to plumb public opinion on the possibility and now is making plans.

Last Tuesday night, Campbell looked across the crowd, which he called "a coalition that spans all sides of the political spectrum." Beyond the usual pack of trade unionists, he saw a sea of developers, architects, casino owners and barkeepers. He figures he can count on them all to back him when he makes his next run. They certainly did their share to support the event.

(Let's see if the same guys turn up at the NPA dinner next week.)

The yummy food was served from "food stations" each named after a neighbourhood in the city, obviously planned before COPE got its butt kicked in the ward plebiscite. Each station was supported by a developer who kicked in $5,000 for the privilege. The music by the delightful Zubot and Dawson, who were joined later by Jim Byrnes, was bankrolled by Bruno Wall, the former co-owner of the Hastings Racetrack.

Campbell's speech, which seemed to drag on for hours as his speeches do, prompted one developer to quip: "Why doesn't he just tell a few jokes and get off the stage?"

But the mayor was clearly laying the groundwork for his next move. The front end was weighted down with individual recognition of each developer and casino owner who ponied up extra bucks. In the whole ramble, I only counted one reference to COPE and it was cutting.

Campbell then set out a platform he plans to run on that would please most people in an NPA crowd; there were promises of more cops, a speedier development permit process and continued support for the 2010 Olympics.

Which brings us to Dec. 11, the date much rumoured as the time Campbell will announce he's running as the mayoral candidate for a new party. Not quite. But there will be a fundraiser that night in Richmond. And the money raised will be the beginning of a war chest for Campbell and his pals to run on as the wheels fall off COPE.

The event is sponsored by Chinese business people to support one of Campbell's closest political allies, COPE Coun. Raymond Louie. Campbell will attend as a bit of soy sauce on the rice. Louie has confirmed the money collected will not go into COPE coffers, which in itself is extraordinary. It gives new meaning to the phrase the buck stops here. It will be money he will hang onto until the COPE Classics decide to reach an accommodation with Louie, Campbell and the COPE Lites including Jim Green and Tim Stevenson.

But don't hold your breath.

Meanwhile, as long as Campbell and his pals are in play, both COPE and the NPA have a big chunk of their election plans on hold.

As long as he can keep his inner bully under control he will be hard to beat.

Given the way the at-large system works, a party has to run a mayoral candidate just to get decent media coverage. The NPA will have to run someone knowing it will lose, even though it will likely gain council seats.

COPE is in a bigger pickle. It can't even consider the issue until Campbell makes up his mind. It is too internally fractured to force the issue and set a deadline for him to decide.

2006-06-06T10:29:00.000-07:00

COPE Council Stays True to NPA Vision

By Charlie Smith
Georgia Straight
November 25, 2003

Sometimes if I'm looking for a cheap laugh in the Vancouver council chamber, I'll ask the person next to me: "What's the difference between the COPE council led by Mayor Larry Campbell, and the previous NPA council headed by former mayor Philip Owen?"

When I'm greeted with silence, I'll reply, "Very little, except COPE wants to put hundreds of slot machines in a park."

Perhaps it's not fair to characterize the new council as a mutant clone of the NPA. However, after COPE's first full year, there are sufficient similarities to disturb citizens who thought they were voting for new policies.

Sometimes those similarities are obscured by the stylistic differences between the bumbling, inarticulate Owen and COPE's Campbell, a brash raconteur.

COPE has also been friendlier to the arts community, gone a little easier on the unions, and done a few things that reinforce an impression of significant change.

For example, the former NPA majority never would have endorsed COPE Coun. Jim Green's push to purchase the Woodward's Building. The NPA also would have vetoed Green's imposition of a $5,000-per-suite fee on downtown flophouse owners who want to convert units to other uses.

In addition, an NPA majority never would have sanctioned former B.C. Supreme Court Justice Tom Berger's commission on electoral reform. COPE also created a peace-and-justice committee, extended library hours, introduced live music in the council chamber, and unveiled a city food policy.

But in COPE's first full year in power, Mayor Campbell and a majority on council have dealt with the biggest issues in the same way as their predecessors.

For example, on the city's largest megaproject to date--the rapid-transit line linking downtown, the airport, and Richmond--both the NPA and COPE councils endorsed the most expensive ($1.5 billion to $1.7 billion) underground option along Cambie Street. This occurred despite repeated warnings that it will cannibalize the bus system.

Mayor Campbell also pursued the previous NPA policy of shifting part of the property-tax load from the commercial to the residential sector. This came despite COPE's claim in a pre-election Georgia Straight questionnaire that it would not offset reduced commercial taxes with higher residential property taxes.

In the same questionnaire, COPE also promised a safe-injection site within three months of taking office, even without the permission of senior levels of government. In the end, Mayor Campbell decided to do exactly what his NPA opponent advocated, and waited several more months for these approvals.

Meanwhile, COPE Coun. Tim Stevenson has seized credit for allowing downtown bars to remain open until 4 a.m. Prior to the election, however, seven NPA council candidates told the Straight that they also supported the 4 a.m. closings, which means the policy would have been approved no matter who was elected.

The mayor, the COPE controlled park board, and four COPE councillors endorsed the city's Olympic bid along with NPA councillors Sam Sullivan and Peter Ladner. No change there, apart from a $600,000 citywide Olympic plebiscite.

Other things haven't changed either. The city planning department continues processing a rezoning application for a Wal-Mart store, even though while the NPA was in control, the two COPE councillors voted against this.

COPE even made a mockery of its pre-election promise to introduce "more rigorous campaign funding disclosure rules" by refusing to release its list of postelection contributors.

COPE councillors Tim Louis, Anne Roberts, Ellen Woodsworth, Fred Bass, and David Cadman have voted against the mayor on several motions. On issues of keen interest to the business community, they've frequently lost to the two NPA councillors joining with the four business-minded COPE politicians, led by Mayor Campbell and Coun. Green.

After his first full year in office, Campbell is showing similarities not only to his NPA predecessors, but also in some strange ways to legendary former Chicago mayor Richard J. Daley, who controlled his city for two decades.

In an uncanny coincidence, Campbell and Daley both wanted to head police departments before becoming mayors of their cities. Campbell unsuccessfully applied to become Vancouver's police chief in 2002; Daley lost an election for Cook County sheriff before he was elected mayor in 1955.

Like Campbell, Daley headed the city's progressive party, but in office aggressively defended his police department against accusations of excessive brutality. Daley also relentlessly promoted construction megaprojects, such as the expansion of O'Hare International Airport, forging a powerful political coalition of labour and business interests.

Campbell has embraced a similar strategy in Vancouver, supporting the RAV project, the Convention and Exhibition Centre expansion, and the Olympic bid.

During his 21-year tenure, Daley was constantly in the media, holding morning news conferences almost every day. Campbell is frequently in the media, too, thanks to his spin doctor, Geoff Meggs.

Some commentators criticized Daley's intellect, but he fought back with a bullying tenacity that wore down his political opponents. Campbell also has a tendency to bully his opponents.

That's not to say there aren't significant differences between the two men. Daley was clever with city finances, shrewdly centralizing control and then offloading costs onto the state government.

Campbell, on the other hand, hasn't demonstrated the same aptitude, failing dismally in his first attempt to limit property-tax increases to the level of inflation.

It's too early to say if Campbell, Green, and Meggs have the requisite ruthlessness to create a Richard Daleystyle political machine in Vancouver. One thing is clear, however. During their first year, they've already shown that they have no appetite to alter most of the previous NPA council's business-friendly policies.

2006-06-06T10:18:00.000-07:00

TransLink shuffle likely after COPE punch-up

By Allen Garr
Vancouver Courier
November 26, 2003

Here's the story on Fred Bass. If the COPE city councillor survives as a TransLink director it will be a miracle. Larry Campbell wants Bass's head. And it looks like he's going to get it.

This assault on Bass is the latest and biggest punch-up so far in the fractious COPE caucus. What makes this different is the fact that, along with Jim Green, Raymond Louie and Tim Stevenson, COPE caucus chairman David Cadman is playing on the mayor's side this time.

The origins of this particular battle go back to the beginning of November. The day before the TransLink long-term funding plan came to council for approval, there was a COPE caucus meeting. Campbell and Cadman - two of the three TransLink directors who, along with Bass, represent Vancouver - wanted this plan passed.

Others in the region will oppose the plan. They figure they can use Vancouver's support as a bargaining chip.

They want a freeze on fare increases at least until transit service improves. They also want to change TransLink's proposed parking tax increase so it doesn't just hit downtown Vancouver businesses but is spread more evenly across the region.

But there was resistance from the left: Tim Louis, Anne Roberts, Ellen Woodsworth and Bass, still bent out of shape over the RAV line.

A raft of compromise amendments was worked out at the caucus meeting. Cadman figured a deal was reached. He was away for the following day's council session, but was stunned when he returned to discover Bass and the other three voted against the plan, which ultimately passed 6-4.

What was more amazing was a letter Bass wrote the day after the vote to TransLink directors and senior staff, in which he outlined why, even though the plan passed at Vancouver council, he was going to oppose it at the TransLink board.

When the mayor got his copy of the letter, his inner bully took full flight. He was on the phone to Bass, turning the air blue at full volume.

He was going to hoist Bass off the TransLink board and replace him with someone he could count on - Raymond Louie.

When Bass suggested a flesh meet so he could explain himself, Larry slammed down the phone. Bass wrote Larry a note of explanation and sent it down the hallway to the mayor's office.

Within minutes Larry, by now red-faced and raging, barreled down to see Bass, armed with the note and his two-word response scrawled across it: "Utter bullshit."

Larry threw down the note on Bass's desk, repeated that phrase and a few others, turned on his heel and headed back to his cave, um, office.

By the time Bass went public with his concerns about the TransLink plan, and the possibility it would cost him his spot on TransLink, his COPE allies were in a deep funk. Woodsworth, no stranger to the mayor's wrath, found his treatment of Bass "appalling."

In a remarkable demonstration of understatement, Bass told one reporter: "I think the mayor was unhappy that I took this position."

That prompted a flood of phone calls to city hall supporting the councillor who topped the polls in the last election, and attacking Campbell for pushing Bass around.

By then, though, Campbell and Cadman had discussed the possibility of getting rid of Bass and replacing him with Louie. Louie actually wants the spot. The extra dough it brings in doesn't hurt and he professes a longstanding interest in transportation.

The crunch will come in the next few weeks when the COPE caucus has to decide which three people will be nominated by Vancouver to the GVRD board, and then voted onto the TransLink board. With Cadman in Campbell's camp, the mayor has the majority. He just has to decide what hit, if any, COPE will take when he dumps the city's most popular councillor.

2006-06-05T13:56:00.000-07:00

Sullivan wonders about chief's timing

By Mike Howell
Vancouver Courier
November 30, 2005

Mayor-elect Sam Sullivan says retiring Mayor Larry Campbell is the inspiration behind an RCMP probe of his well-publicized admissions that he supplied money to drug addicts more than three years ago.

Sullivan said Campbell has admitted in the media that he wrote a letter several weeks ago to B.C. Solicitor-General John Les over concerns related to Sullivan supplying money to a drug addict and addicted prostitute.

The letter was sent during the municipal election campaign in which Campbell endorsed Sullivan's opponent, Jim Green of Vision Vancouver. Sullivan was elected Nov. 19.

"He was out speaking to the public about how awful I was and how useless I was as a councillor and how wonderful Jim Green was," Sullivan told the Courier yesterday morning. "At the same time, he was writing a letter asking for a criminal investigation against me. I think this was an unfortunate use of his office as chair of the police board."

The Courier left messages with Campbell's office and executive assistant yesterday, but they were not returned before deadline. Campbell's last council meeting was yesterday.

When Sullivan is sworn in as mayor Dec. 5, he will automatically assume the position as chair of the Vancouver Police Board.

In an Oct. 5 story in the Courier, Sullivan admitted he gave money to three drug addicts to buy drugs to help them "manage" their addictions. The recipients of Sullivan's money were a crack addict in his 30s living in the Downtown Eastside, a young heroin-addicted prostitute working in Collingwood and a close friend of the Sullivan family.

Sullivan pointed out yesterday that two of the three incidents were previously reported in the media, including a front page story in the Vancouver Sun in December 2000.

Because the incidents occurred several years ago, and were widely publicized, Sullivan is wondering why police didn't investigate then.

"It was on the front page of the Vancouver Sun at a time when both Larry and the police chief were in town," he said, adding that Jamie Graham wasn't chief at the time but believed he was aware of the story. "I don't fault the police chief. The police chief surely has to respond to the hysteria of the chair of the police board, if that's what's happening."

Police Chief Jamie Graham asked the RCMP to investigate Sullivan after he consulted with the Office of the Conflict of Interest Commissioner, said Const. Howard Chow, VPD media liaison officer.

Graham pursued the matter after stories regarding Sullivan's involvement with drug addicts surfaced in the media during the 2005 election campaign, Chow said.

"Given that the election was going on at the time, we chose not to make any comment about it for fear of influencing the decision of voters one way or the other," he said.

The conflict commissioner recommended Graham ask a separate police agency-in this case, the RCMP-to review the department's concerns over Sullivan's actions.

When asked why police didn't investigate Sullivan when stories reported his actions several years ago, Chow said "the big distinction here is that he would eventually be the head of the police board."

Added Chow: "It really came into our radar during this election. Comments were made by a number of citizens, it was reported in the media as well."

Chow said Campbell's letter to the Solicitor-General was independent of the police chief's decision to ask the RCMP to investigate Sullivan.

Sullivan said he doesn't believe the issue will affect his relationship with the chief. The RCMP probe comes one week after Vision Vancouver asked for an inquiry into allegations that Sullivan helped independent mayoral candidate James Green in his campaign.

"Larry Campbell's honeymoon lasted two-and-a-half years. Mine lasted two-and-a-half days. And people said I would be a boring mayor."

2006-06-05T13:55:00.000-07:00

Time for an Inquest of Da Vinci
Did Larry Campbell have the Red Chamber on his mind when he defended Paul Martin?

By Darryl Greer
Terminal City
August 11, 2005

Not too long ago in a galaxy not too far away, Vancouver Mayor Larry Campbell was hell bent on warning the electorate about the dangers of the Conservative party as well as the dangers of a premature federal election.

“Calling an election—I’d consider it extremely stupid,” Campbell told the media back in mid-April after his sewer tour with Prime Minister Paul Martin. “My attitude is let’s hear what Mr. Justice Gomery has got to say and then figure out what we have to do about it.”

But now, with his recent appointment to the senate, it’s increasingly clear what he actually meant about letting Gomery run its course before heading back to the polls. His diatribe against the Conservatives is easily translated into: “Calling an election would be extremely stupid because it would put my senate appointment in jeopardy.”

He dragged his feet about whether he was going to run for mayor again likely because he didn’t know if his future boss in Ottawa had a future himself, given all the corruption and such within his party. Belinda Stronach secured that future, however, when she broke up with Peter MacKay and left the Conservatives heart-broken, bitter, and jealous.

Campbell owes a debt of gratitude to the billionaire blonde as well as several others. The media, for one, typically preceded Campbell’s name with the ubiquitous label of “popular,” although who he was actually popular with remains a mystery. He sure as hell wasn’t popular with many within COPE and, not surprisingly, the NPA—who commonly referred to him as a domineering, arrogant bully. Arrogance seems to reveal its ugly head whenever a white-haired white guy named Campbell sits in the mayor’s chair in this city for some odd reason.

But he did write scripts for that show Da Vinci’s Inquest, he championed the safe injection site and the four pillars drug strategy, and saved the world from a massive comet that would’ve seen the destruction of life on this planet, didn’t he?

Well, the comet part isn’t true and the script writing part is, but the safe injection site and the four pillars approach have been misguidedly attributed to Larry Campbell and Larry Campbell alone. With very little mention of his predecessors in the mayor’s office (Philip Owen) and the coroner’s office (Vince Cain), Campbell has been built up into a hard-nosed, tongue-in-cheek, sarcastic sound-bite machine that fought hard for the people of the Downtown Eastside making it the pleasant, family-friendly place it is now.

However, it was Vince Cain way back in 1994, who characterized the rampant drug abuse in Vancouver as a health issue rather than a criminal justice issue. It was Philip Owen in 2000 who advocated the implementation of the four pillars drug strategy—not to mention the hundreds of other social workers, health officers, and activists who lobbied policy makers long before Larry Campbell became a household name.

Campbell and his COPE entourage deserve much credit, certainly, but Campbell himself has been given a free ride into Ottawa with guaranteed employment to the ripe old age of 75, likely to the dismay of his senate-unfriendly NDP friends with whom he surrounds himself.

So it’s off to Ottawa for Vancouver’s so-called “popular” mayor, fedora intact, and perhaps it would have been extremely stupid to call an election prematurely because it very well could’ve kept him in the mayor’s chair for another few years—a move that would likely prove unpopular as the city encountered new problems that not even Dominic Da Vinci could solve.

2006-06-05T13:53:00.000-07:00

Senator Larry Campbell? Oh, please

By Barbara Yaffe
Vancouver Sun
August 3, 2005

Jobs for life were handed out Tuesday to five lucky Canadians who will scoop $120,000 annually to age 75 for possibly part-time jobs, plus free airfare hither and yon and other perks to die for.

Prime Minister Paul Martin announced these Senate appointments in the dead of summer, hoping taxpayers will be too busy wind-surfing or lawn mowing to take note.

For those paying attention, there can be only frustration and resignation at watching appointments go to the politically connected and, in some cases, undeserving.

The current crop of Senate newbies constitutes a mixed bag.

Among the more interesting is Hugh Segal, a respected red Tory who, as president of the Institute for Research on Public Policy, has contributed to national policy discourse for years.

Segal, former chief of staff to Brian Mulroney, who himself has run several times, unsuccessfully, will represent Ontario.

Rod Zimmer, a community leader in Winnipeg, former president of the Royal Winnipeg Ballet and former board member of the Winnipeg Blue Bombers, along with former actor and pianist Andree Champagne, a one-time Quebec MP, are other at least culturally interesting appointees who will sit in the red velvet seats as Liberals.

After these folks, things go downhill. Thinking Canadians will view the appointment of Dennis Dawson and Larry Campbell as provocations.

Dawson was a Quebec Liberal MP from 1977 to 1984, a longtime Martinite who ran last year against the Bloc's Christian Simard and lost. Dawson is also a lobbyist -- and the recent subject of a complaint by Democracy Watch, an Ottawa-based group concerned with government ethics.

The group complained to Ethics Commissioner Bernard Shapiro about Dawson lobbying government so soon after toiling for the Liberals; he'd worked on Martin's transition team when he first became PM in 2003.

As for Larry Campbell, the appointment stinks.

Campbell, Vancouver's mayor of 2 1/2 years, who has said of himself "I'm not a politician," is not a politician.

How much more enlightened would have been a senator Gordon Gibson or Gail Sparrow.

Early on, Campbell got tagged by a few reporters as colourful and likeable. In fact, he's a foul-mouthed, testy man who wasn't at all receptive to anyone who didn't share his views.

He alienated half of his own caucus -- the Committee of Progressive Electors -- and gave the back of his hand to community groups who brought legitimate concerns to him. He has behaved belligerently toward fellow politicians with whom he disagreed, childishly calling public figures like Councillor Fred Bass and MLA Lorne Mayencourt nasty names.

Moreover, he's not someone inclined to studiously review Commons legislation. It's well known hefty reports and lengthy municipal meetings bored him silly.

Sitting as a Liberal, he'll doubtless do little more than the government's bidding, which is of course what the prime minister desires of the Liberal contingent in the upper chamber.

It's difficult to cite anything Mayor Campbell has achieved to deserve this lifetime sinecure.

Former mayor Philip Owen, a distinguished and innovative public servant -- who, by the way, could easily be talked into again running for the top municipal job this November -- deserves full credit for the highly touted four-pillar drug strategy. He did the heavy lifting, selling this brave approach to Vancouverites.

Under Campbell, the plan was implemented as a one-pillar strategy, making it easier for the addicted to maintain their high. The education, enforcement and addiction-treatment components have barely been advanced.

Campbell's big idea -- legalizing pot. How would that help deal with Vancouver's drug problem?

Have the city's onerous traffic woes eased under his leadership? Have head offices been attracted to Vancouver? Has the Downtown Eastside changed one iota?

On the fiscal side, the mayor disappointed again, increasing the city's budget 6.2 per cent -- way beyond the two per-cent rate of inflation at which he promised to keep spending.

The only reason Campbell was named to the Senate this week is Martin believes the myth about this mayor being popular and aspires to sweep Vancouver in a federal vote expected in early 2006.

The PM owes us a big, fat apology.

2006-06-05T13:50:00.000-07:00

How Larry Campbell got his groove back

By Allen Garr
Vancouver Courier
November 22, 2003

In the middle of B.C.'s endless drought, Mayor Larry Campbell was making his way back from his annual pilgrimage to his in-laws' farm in Saskatchewan.

The plan was to get his "inner bully" under control and recover from the longest nine months of his life: the election, the Olympic referendum, COPE's first city budget, the RAV line debate.

His trips to the prairies were usually a tonic, even though this summer, grasshoppers wiped out the flax crops. He dipped down into the States and was heading west and about to cross the Missouri River at Williston, North Dakota when the engine on his Jeep blew up. Amtrak brought him the rest of the way back to the coast.

To his staff, if anything, he seemed more tired than when he set out on holidays. But over the summer, Campbell had decided to back away from ideological battles and just get stuff done.

Within weeks of his returning, the safe-shooting site opened on East Hastings. Finally. He would consider it his greatest accomplishment.

His passion for his work was rekindled and, for the first time since he stumbled into the job as Vancouver's accidental mayor, he thought about running again.

It may seem hard to believe a year has passed since Campbell and COPE swept into power, capturing every seat they contested on council, school board and parks board.

At city hall, the staff first held its breath waiting to see if the new government would cut a swath through their senior ranks to put its own stamp on the bureaucracy. But not one head rolled, although it was anything but business as usual. Forced by a council with more energy and ideas than experience, the bureaucrats were yarded out of a decade of relative lethargy and driven forward.

Yet for every staffer who grumbles about an onerous workload, there's another who rejoices that new ideas are encouraged like never before.

Much of that has been going on beyond our view. What we did see was a shocking amount of public brawling. Not between the political parties on council, but within the governing COPE caucus. It was COPE Classic versus COPE Lite.

They fought over the RAV line, the Olympics, squatters. Larry led the forces of Lite, including Jim Green, Raymond Louis and Tim Stevenson, all of whom took shots openly and behind closed doors at their Classic comrades: Fred Bass, David Cadman, Tim Louis, Anne Roberts and Ellen Woodsworth. The two NPA councillors were on the Lite side more often than not.

Yet in spite of frequent skirmishes, things got done. Lots of things. They resolved the squat at Woodwards after months of intransigence by the NPA, and went on to buy the building, then begin a development project that will dramatically change the face of the city.

The war with the Chinese community over the city's drug policy and a kind of benign neglect over Chinatown's economic plight has ended. There is an accord. Campbell and Louie did most of the work there.

Like it or not, there is a bylaw protecting low-cost housing in the Downtown Eastside. And the RAV project has hopped through all the hoops the city has so far put up. It will fail or succeed all on its own now.

Daycare was subsidized in the face of provincial cuts. A child and youth advocate was appointed. And, for better or worse, they got control of the PNE. There will be more late-night buses, more bicycle paths, legal skateboarding and even, possibly, a ward system, depending on the outcome of the electoral reform commission that was created a few weeks ago.

As for Larry Campbell, folks love him even though his inner bully rears its ugly head. The safe-shooting site has prevented 25 possible overdose deaths. And in his better moments, he still figures he'll run again.

2006-06-05T13:41:00.000-07:00

Vancouverite of the Year: Larry Campbell
Who's our new mayor? He's a lot of things to a lot of people.

By David Beers
Vancouver Magazine
January 2003

Scene: Election night, 2002, 7 p.m. Larry Campbell needs to shake reporters chasing him around. He wants an intimate moment with his soon-to-be-predecessor, Philip Owen, who is dining with a small circle of friends and family in the restaurant of the Four Seasons Hotel. So Campbell pulls a floppy fedora low over his eyes, melts into the crowd, and pops up all alone at Owen's table. He lingers long enough to enjoy a glass of wine and a warm exchange. "I worked undercover for seven years," Campbell says. "I know how to blend in."

That's Vancouver's new mayor. The man of the moment who is Everyman. The shining star who can wink himself invisible. Is there a more post-modern politician than Larry Campbell?

He is, after all, the candidate whose campaign buttons urged ŒDaVinci for Mayor.'

He is the TV character voters found more authentic than his real-life opponents, the dandy dresser who identifies with the ragged poor, the former drug cop who wants to make it safer for addicts to do drugs. A famous joker, he's the one the voters took seriously - even after he misheard a question about leaky condos, and told a church hall full of voters: "Leaky condoms! What a disaster!"

Mayor Campbell, the lawman who waxes nostalgic for dens of sin. Mayor Campbell, the Olympics enthusiast whose referendum may sink the Olympics.

He's the avuncular speechifier who - when out of sight during the election - was said to seethe with anger at NPA tactics. He is a "bully," says a former underling at the coroner's office. He is a "cowboy" according to Jennifer Clarke. He is "a great, great man and a total collaborator" says a colleague on DaVinci's Inquest, "and he knows how to give a great gift. He gave me a bath bomb from Lush. Chocolate. He told me chocolate was his favorite bath bomb."

He makes his home in toney, lightly populated Point Grey. He vows a more densely developed Vancouver including Point Grey - which makes him the people's mayor whom a developer might love even more than the NPA.

He is the pragmatic populist who's surrounded himself with staunch ideologues. He is, says one political advisor, "a natural born leader type who seems like Venus springing fully born out of the seashell." And yet, says the same advisor, "everything he's done has led up to being mayor."

He is the seasoned pro who ran a tight council meeting first time out, ousting a sign-waving protester and daring to cut fellow COPE councillor Jim Green off in mid-attack on the Olympic bid corporation. He is the newby who marvels that his office has a shower. "Looks like it's been used three times!"

He is the outsider Jennifer Clarke never saw at a City Hall meeting. He is the king of the West whose meeting schedule, on a December visit to Ottawa, filled to overflowing with Liberal ministers eager to meet the new national celebrity.

Scene (well known to all by now, like a famous shot in a feel-good flick), Election night, the moment of victory:

Larry Campbell, thronged by ecstatic supporters, draws a roar of approval by shouting, "I don't know about you, but suddenly Vancouver seems like a much more fun place to be!"

That's Vancouver's new mayor. The guy who studied dead people. The guy who charmed his city to life.

2006-06-05T13:32:00.000-07:00

Larry's Party
"The former chief coroner tries to take COPE to the centre, and Jennifer Clarke tries to keep city hall"

By Chris Nuttall-Smith
Vancouver Magazine
November 2002

Clarke wants to take a walk. She slides her mini van into a spot on Cordova Street, steps up to the curb, around a corner and left onto Hastings, smack into Vancouver’s ugliest urban neighbourhood. Jennifer Clarke, city councillor, lightning-rod candidate for this fall’s mayoral race, private-school girl, Shaughnessy money and the woman who referred, quite famously now, to this very neighbourhood as a “ghetto,” wants to walk through the Downtown Eastside. She strolls past the old Woodward’s department store and the squatters fighting there for social housing. Past the boarded-up buildings, past the junkies and past the Save-on-Meat and the Central American crack dealers who always seem to lurk outside. Before long, a blue mini van slows down alongside us. The man at the wheel, a thin white guy with a dirty blonde beard, is staring. He’s recognized her. He doesn’t look happy. “This is no ghetto!” he yells. “This is not a ghetto!” Clarke waves, looks down at the sidewalk. She keeps on walking.

Clarke wants you to know she cares about this neighbourhood. “When I was a girl, I used to shop at Woodward’s with my mom,” she begins. “And when I was a girl, I used to take the bus down to Chinatown for lunch with my girlfriends starting when I was 12 or 13. There were lots of little shops as well as Woodward’s. There were lots of working-class people here.” She doesn’t want to push anybody away, she says. There’s plenty of space for everyone, look at all the empty buildings. She says that Portland, Oregon, “reclaimed” its version of the Downtown Eastside by going in with a comprehensive health plan. “The police and law enforcement officials gave the necessary push to sort of push the addicts into—toward medical care.”

We stop at Hastings and Columbia at a coffee shop, and not long after we sit down another bearded man walks in. He’s dirty and unshaven, and he’s carrying something in his arms. He walks over to our table. “Would you guys be interested in an Emerson microwave oven? It’s brand new.” Clarke takes no time to compose herself; maybe she does not need to. “No thanks,” Clarke says, with a smile and a tone that manages to sound as if she truly appreciates the offer.

Just then I can’t help but feel sorry for her. I picture her as a little girl in knee high socks and a gingham dress, wandering through here with her mom, all wide eyes and innocence. Clarke could not have known then that this long-decaying strip would be her political Achilles’ heel; that she would stand accused of undermining the current mayor—her party’s leader—over his support of the bold “four pillars” plan to fix this very neighbourhood. That accusation has resonated through Clarke’s own party, the Non-Partisan Association. But at least Clarke and the NPA share a common ideology: they are and—with a few notable exceptions—they always have been the party of the west side, of business and boosterism, the crème de la crème keeping the socialists at bay.

Clarke’s rival from the left, the Coalition of Progressive Electors’ Larry Campbell, doesn’t have it so easy. His party constituents and his colleagues don’t share such a singular ideology. Take Tim Louis, the COPE city councillor who holds up Cuba as a model of fiscal responsibility. (“You know Tim Louis has a picture of Che Guevara on the back of his wheelchair?” Clarke informed me after our walk.)

Campbell is a lot of things: a former drug cop, former chief provincial coroner, owner of a successful consulting company and the basis for an award-winning television drama about a crusading coroner. He’s a media darling, and he just might do what COPE hasn’t been able to do in its 34-year history. Campbell might well make it to the mayor’s office. But he’ll have to take his party with him.

His new-found party’s stripes—Campbell only signed on a few months ago—were in evidence at its candidate selection meeting recently. For all the young couples there, the activist pensioners and the prepped-out students, there were just as many members from the anti-globalization crowd or from the labour movement. One young woman sold buttons with slogans like “Canada is ALL Native Land,” and “Detox on Demand.” Another of her wares bore the words “Class War,” underscored by a Nike swoosh and the tag-line “Just Do It.”

Up at the microphone one candidate for COPE’s city-council slate pledged that a COPE majority would keep Vancouver a Wal-Mart-free zone. She got the party’s nod. It felt like half the speakers began their speeches with “Brothers and sisters.” And at the back of the room, Ian Waddell, variously environment minister and tourism minister with the former provincial New Democratic Party government, and one of a few dozen NDP politicians and functionaries in attendance, was overheard saying, “Jesus, I remember when COPE used to meet in the community hall, hey?”

Somehow, Larry Campbell, the man in the dark suit, the dark shoes and the tie, the man with the silver hair brushed back off his forehead in a tidy wave, has to embrace all those parts of his party. But the thousand-odd faithful at the meeting that night can’t bring Campbell to power with their votes alone. He’s also got to look sharp for the voters who wouldn’t be caught dead wearing an “I Love Commie Dykes” button—the west-side, middle-class voters, the small-business people and the socially conscious yuppies who just could vote for COPE this year. Meet Larry Campbell, the man who can’t bend too far left, who mustn’t sway too far right, who mustn’t frighten either. Meet Larry Campbell, political androgyne.

All of this makes more sense when David Cadman explains it. Cadman was the party’s mayoral candidate last time around, and he’s been working to build COPE ever since. He uses the language of branding to describe it. “There’s COPE classic and there’s the new COPE,” he says. “The new COPE is about broadening that group of people who want to see good civic government.”

A moment later: “I think people are beginning to realize that if you want to be elected and serve this community, you’ve got to serve all the citizens. You’ve got to have a broader tent. That’s a transformation we’ve gone through.” Cadman says that transformation only grew more driven in the days of last year’s bus strike, when small-business owners, frustrated with NPA councillors’ refusal to intervene, turned to COPE for sympathy. Then, this summer Philip Owen went public with his claim of being pushed out by his own party. Jennifer Clarke shouldered much of the blame. And Cadman and his colleagues saw an opportunity to scoop up some of the NPA’s now disenchanted supporters. So what better man to do that than Campbell?

Cadman says he courted Larry Campbell, asked him to join the party. And he was a good choice. Campbell talks the free-enterprise talk. He lives in Point Grey. He and his wife own two homes in Saskatchewan. Which, it should be said, is not the same as owning a couple homes in Whistler. They’re both in Dubuc, a tiny agricultural town where houses go for $5,000, Campbell says, with three lots. But he owns three homes all the same.

It doesn’t seem too jarring, then, when Campbell suggests a meeting at Starbucks, though some in his party might find it an unfortunate choice of venues. Campbell is scheduled to introduce Naomi Klein, the anti-globalization, anti-branding crusader, at a COPE-sponsored event a few days after this meeting. As we settle over grande coffees, Campbell, who says he’s never belonged to a political party, acknowledges that some of his friends were surprised he chose COPE. “There is a certain segment that wanted me to run independent,” he says. “I didn’t think it was very realistic. It was a huge amount of money that I would have to raise, but more importantly, I would be fighting both ends of the [political] scale. And I actually felt very comfortable with COPE once I went there and we talked.”

But what about the party’s left wing? They sang the “Internationale” at COPE founder Harry Rankin’s funeral last spring. “Obviously I’m closer to the centre.” He searches for a few seconds, looking for words. “But I think if you look at our platform, we are fairly centre-left. And the ideas that we have are workable, they’re practical, and they aren’t pie in the sky.” Take business. Campbell says he’s pro-business and pro-development. He suggests that the city’s residents should have more say in development questions, and he wonders whether enough low-income housing is being built as a percentage of higher-income housing. But on the whole, Campbell has no major complaints. “I think the city is doing well for the most part on large-scale development.”

At a second Starbucks interview a few weeks later, Campbell seems more at ease with his party, and he’s happy to talk about some of COPE’s issues. “If you want to place me in this coalition, you can place me as centre-left,” he says. “Not far left, but centre-left. Anybody who watched me as chief coroner, who watched my recommendations, who saw my involvement in the four pillars can recognize that that’s where I am, and I’m a fiscal conservative.” It might be taking things a little too far to declare the city a Wal-Mart-free zone, he says, adding that the question of whether to allow Wal-Mart should be up to the neighbourhoods where they are proposed. He likes Starbucks, he says, no apologies.

When I mention Tim Louis’ fondness for Cuba’s fiscal restraint, Campbell chuckles and says he’s happy to hear Louis out. Same with the NDP politicos and the squatters occupying the Woodward’s building. “This is not a group that walks lockstep with each other,” Campbell says. “There’s a variety of people with different opinions, and I’ll tell you they bring up ideas that I would never have thought of. We all bring something to the table, and that’s what’s so interesting about the coalition.”

So everybody loves Larry? Not quite. There’s one other thing about Campbell. It takes a diplomat, sometimes, to hold a party together—particularly one with as disparate a membership as COPE. And if you ask some of Larry Campbell’s colleagues from his days at the coroner’s service, Larry Campbell is not a diplomat. Peter Gordon, a former part-time coroner under Campbell who now works as a consultant, describes Campbell’s style as something akin to Pontius Pilate’s: Campbell belittled people and used “bombastic rhetoric.”

“However, let me say this,” Gordon adds. “Larry is a capable person in many ways. His desire to defend the down-and-outers on the Downtown Eastside is commendable....[He] will definitely add some spice and colour to the election. ”

But in general, says Gordon, “I don’t believe that he is a consultative type of person that can get together with his fellow elected council and get down to the root causes, get down to the solutions. I think that he would not have the ability to build consensus on these people’s behalf. I think that he would just keep using that style and that kind of language, and he would get people’s back up.”

There’s more. According to Gordon, the provincial ombudsman launched an investigation because of complaints—including Gordon’s—about Campbell’s behaviour. Maybe it’s nothing.

Maybe it’s something. Campbell doesn’t really say. But questions about what really happened on his watch make Campbell’s face, rosy at the best of times, turn a deep red. At that second Starbucks interview, Campbell says there was never any ombudsman’s investigation of his service. He would not allow it. “The ombudsman wanted, I believe, to investigate the coroner’s service on a particular case, but let’s just say that the ombudsman, in my opinion, was delving into areas that in my opinion were simply not part of the ombudsman’s job,” Campbell says, adding that the issue in question was not about Gordon. So instead, the deputy attorney general conducted an investigation, according to Campbell. About what, specifically, Campbell can’t recall. He says he does not have a copy of the investigation’s report. He sits leaning against the Starbucks wall, his hand fixed on the rim of his coffee cup. “Where are you trying to go with this?” he asks. He asks again. The current ombudsman, Howard Kushner, says he can’t say whether his office ever investigated complaints about the coroner’s office or Campbell.

Dr. Robert Stevenson, a former regional coroner in Nanaimo who is now retired, says he wants to leave his old job behind him; however, Stevenson confirms another coroner’s service story about a memorable Campbell incident. According to that story, at a meeting of coroners, then Chief Coroner Campbell tore a strip off of Stevenson, belittling him in front of his colleagues. It later became clear that Stevenson had been in the right, but Campbell never acknowledged his error. When asked if that version of events was correct, Stevenson answers, “Yep, big time. Big time.”

Another senior staffer—who has left the coroner’s service and spoke only on condition of anonymity—says that Campbell was a bully. “I frankly worry about the administration of the city of Vancouver if he gets in.”

But Lil Premack, a former deputy regional coroner in Kelowna and investigating coroner in Vancouver, interprets Campbell’s mannerisms and management style much more positively. “I liked him because he was very straightforward, for one thing; he didn’t pull any punches,” she says. “He’s a no-nonsense kind of guy. And I respect that in a person who’s in the position he was in.

“I worked for Larry for many, many years and Larry never did me any wrong and I saw he did a lot of good for the city of Vancouver, for one thing. And to me, if I needed management, and Larry was in management, I got management.”

In his own defence, Campbell says personality conflicts are normal in any organization, as are reviews of how an organization is working. He often defended his staff, he says. He’s adamant that he was no bully. “Am I a manager who lets things slide and is wishy-washy? No, I’m not. I’m decisive, I make decisions, and we move on with it.”

Like Jennifer Clarke, Larry Campbell wants to go for a walk. We turn right out of Starbucks and head down 10th Avenue toward his home. Campbell belongs to this community and he’s proud of it. As we go past an old man with a walker, Campbell marvels that the man doesn’t have his bucket and squeegee with him—that same old man cleans windows along this strip each morning, Campbell says. He stops to greet the owner of Bean Around The World, a coffee shop down the street. “Max. Hey, Max. Good morning. Don’t say anything bad. I’m being interviewed, okay?” We walk past the clothing store where he shops and past the public library, closed this Monday morning. He calls it a “crying shame” and pledges that the city’s libraries should stay open every day for at least eight hours.

We head up Trimble Street now, then we turn right a little way along. Campbell stops at a modest Arts and Crafts number. Campbell’s wife, pathologist Enid Edwards, ripped up the lawn long ago and planted their yard full of rhododendrons and heather. The garden and the home behind it are an urban dream. “It’s just your old trades house,” Campbell says.

The most famous picture of Larry Campbell shows him standing in a morgue in a trench coat with a grim look on his face, surrounded by the dead. A few toe tags poke out from the gurneys. For all his years as a coroner, Campbell is most closely associated with the junkies and the overdoses of the Downtown Eastside. It feels like he wants to show he’s about more than just that, that he lives in a normal place with a deck and lawn chairs and a doghouse in the yard.

It seems fitting that Valerie MacLean, former RCMP officer, face of the B.C. mainland Better Business Bureau and newly conscripted mayoral candidate for the Vancouver Civic Action Team, also takes me for a walk. This happens because Stuart Backerman, MacLean’s handler, wants to give me some party bumf he’s left in his car. So we need to get from Library Square to Burrard Street. The walk proves illuminating.

MacLean seems about as new at this as they come. She actually says that win or lose, she just wants to go out there for this campaign and make it fun. She’s just finished a radio interview with Rafe Mair, too, so she’s going through an understandable decompression. She’s speaking at hyperspeed. And just about every time she tries to make a point or answer a question, Backerman cuts in and answers for her, waxing about how their party is the city’s true political centre, about how COPE is too far left, how the NPA is too far right, how the VCA Team is just right. He can’t seem to keep quiet. So as we walk toward Burrard, Backerman starts talking about the Downtown Eastside. He and MacLean just walked through there the other day, he says, and they seem hardly to believe what they saw.

Backerman grew up in the Bronx, then moved here in the 1970s. He still speaks with a thick New York accent, and he still holds his native city as a point of reference against which all others are measured. So he says the Hastings strip reminds him of how Times Square was when he was a kid. “I couldn’t believe it,” he says. “We walked through there from one end to the other, and people were whacked out on drugs, and people were panhandling, intimidating the tourists—degenerates everywhere, and we didn’t see one cop. Middle of the day, and there’s not a single cop.”

Now MacLean nods her agreement. Backerman wonders aloud how Rudolph Giuliani, the former New York mayor, managed to clean his city up. Then he keys in on the words “zero tolerance.” “Zero tolerance!” MacLean repeats after him, in a tone that says “Eureka!” She’s talking over the traffic on Georgia Street, she’s walking briskly, negotiating a crosswalk packed with office drones out for lunch, smiling a constant candidate’s smile. And she sounds excited.

“Zero tolerance?” I ask. “Is that going to be part of your platform?”

“It very well could be,” MacLean says. The new centrist candidate and her handler are forming policies on the fly, out loud, as they walk down Georgia Street, and they’re using loaded words like “degenerate” and “zero tolerance”—words that not even this race’s supposed right-wing monster, Jennifer Clarke, would use; words the city’s left would undoubtedly deplore.

“Zero tolerance for what?” I push.

“For illegal activity,” MacLean says.

“Well, drug using is illegal,” I say. “Do you mean zero tolerance for that?”

She seems to have to think about this one. It takes her a few steps to answer. “For the pushers,” MacLean says. “For the dealing.”

But in this city, the drug users and the drug dealers are very often the same people. Right about now, that distinction seems lost on these two from this party that would sneak up the centre.

Back out on Hastings Street, Jennifer Clarke is walking again. It’s still hard to say just how much of an impact the fight for this neighbourhood will have on this election’s final result, whether this neighbourhood that has for so long played Vancouver’s strung-out and embarrassing cousin might now play its kingmaker.

Clarke’s strategy, much as it might defy the facts, is to minimize the political differences over the Downtown Eastside, to maximize the differences elsewhere. She’s tired of the debate over semantics, she says, tired of the partisan attacks. “It seems that Valerie MacLean and Larry Campbell agree with the four-pillar approach,” she says. “It is an NPA-developed policy which we initiated, supported and are moving forward on. So we all agree, and that’s a good thing.”

Larry Campbell’s strategy, it seems, is to maximize the parties’ differences over the drug problem and minimize many (but certainly not all) of the differences elsewhere. And somehow Valerie MacLean hopes to stroll up the middle, wherever that may be. But for now, Clarke is headed back past the old Woodward’s building where she used to go as a child, and past the squatters, past the boarded-up blocks, past the junkies with their Emerson microwaves. This is Jennifer Clarke’s election to lose, after all. And for this moment, nobody is giving her grief.