MONTEGO BAY, Jamaica — Jamaica has long bemoaned its reputation as the land of ganja.
It
has enforced draconian drug laws and spent millions on public education
to stem its distinction as a pot mecca. But its role as a major supplier of illicit marijuana
to the United States and its international image — led by the likes of
Bob Marley, whose Rastafarian faith considers smoking up a religious act
— have been too strong to overcome.
Now, its leaders smell something else: opportunity.
Having
watched states like Colorado and California generate billions of
dollars from marijuana, Jamaica has decided to embrace its herbaceous
brand.
Rather than arresting and shunning the country’s Rasta population, the Jamaican authorities will leverage it. Beyond decriminalizing the possession of small amounts of marijuana last year, Jamaica has legalized the use of medical marijuana, with its ultimate sights set on “wellness tourism” and the font of money it could bring.
And for good reason: Jamaica has one of the lowest economic growth rates in the developing world, a striking contrast to the global success its citizens have enjoyed in the worlds of sports and music.
A marijuana farmer in central Jamaica in
2013. Jamaica has spent years prosecuting illegal marijuana growers, but
as it moves to legalize parts of the industry, small farmers worry they
will be left behind.
So,
having done just about everything experts say a stupendously indebted
nation should do — sticking to austere fiscal plans, adopting prudent
macroeconomic policies and creating a friendly climate for outside
investors — Jamaica is adding marijuana to its arsenal.
The
new world order has brought together an odd assortment of characters.
At a recent conference at a luxury hotel in Montego Bay, besuited
government officials and business leaders mingled with pot farmers and
Rastafarian leaders like First Man, who kicked off the conference with a
speech on the global benefits of ganja.
“We
are talking about a plant that bridges the gap between all of our
relationships,” First Man, barefoot with a Rasta scarf around his neck,
said to a packed room. “Our planet needs this relationship to happen.”
As the head of a Rastafarian village in Jamaica, First Man was speaking at the first CanEx conference,
a gathering of government and local leaders trying to figure out just
how the country can most effectively make this about-face, without
neglecting international law.
No one is really clear how the industry will evolve. Technically, the United Nations convention on drugs
— which requires nations to limit the production, trade, use and
possession of drugs — still prevails, meaning that outright federal
legalization is, well, illegal.
But with the United States and Canada edging toward permitting the drug’s use, Jamaica wants in, too.
“In
the past, the United States really left no room for maneuver,” said
Mark Golding, the former minister of justice who developed the
legislation to permit medical marijuana production in Jamaica. “But with
the Obama administration creating an opportunity for states to do what
they wanted to, it created a window for all of us.”
“Where the real market is, and where the real money is, remains to be seen,” he added. “We are all just preparing for it.”
For
some, society is at the beginning of a post-Prohibition era, much as it
was with alcohol decades ago, when global brands and untold billions
were still to be made.
That’s
still a long way off. Jamaica began legalizing the use of medical
marijuana last year, but has so far granted only a few licenses to
cultivate marijuana for research purposes. No one, as yet, has sold any
product legally, but the government is gearing up to meet whatever
market presents itself.
“Jamaica
for so long has been associated with this plant,” said the conference
organizer, Doug Gordon. “Now, it’s a business, an opportunity, one that
can change the future of this country through jobs and income, one that
can change our G.D.P.”
Of
course, all of this has stoked fears of inequality for poor rural
farmers, who have long been targeted for doing exactly what the country
is now trying to take advantage of. Many fear that big money will come
in, monopolize the industry and leave those on the margins exactly where
it found them.
Iyah
V, a Rastafarian leader who sits on the nation’s nascent licensing
authority, summed up concerns by pointing to the many suits and
relatively few Rastas at the conference.
“If
we are not organized, and are not helped, the possibility exists for
the ganja industry to become the next tourism, coffee or sugar industry,
where our people are used as common laborers and the wealth is confined
to a few,” he said.
Jamaican
leaders say they are trying to heed the warning. Most agree there
should be access to capital for small farmers, as well as breaks on
expensive licensing fees and other upfront costs. But those, too, are
yet to be determined. Even entrepreneurs agree that the playing field is
not a level one.
Varun
Baker, a well-traveled and educated entrepreneur, has started
Ganjagram, an application where users can read up on the laws regarding
marijuana in Jamaica. Ultimately, he hopes to make it something of an
Uber for marijuana smokers, allowing clients to order and select
products for delivery through their phones.
He is searching for partners and investors to help fund his ambitions, but the pitch remains difficult.
“There is lots of gray area,” Mr. Baker said. “People don’t really understand what the government is doing.”
Bali
Vaswani, by contrast, is a prominent businessman in Jamaica who has
created several brands, including Marley Brand Coffee on behalf of
Marley’s family. He is already working with a research license and last
month harvested the first crop of legal marijuana in Jamaica.
He
is not only clear on the rules in place now, but is in a position to
help shape those to come. He has ample capital to invest and business
know-how, specifically in the marijuana industry in Colorado, so it is
hard to imagine how he will not dominate the market here when it finally
does open up.
“I’m
trying to bring a corporate structure to this, and do my part to build
Brand Jamaica,” he said. “I’ve been given a set of rules, and all I do
is follow it. It’s not beneficial to knock the rules.”
To
date, there has been a lot of knocking of the rules. In fact, farmers,
Rastafarians and academics have joined forces to slow the transformation
underway, fearing small farmers will be railroaded.
Kadamawe
Knife, a Rastafarian academic, spent a significant portion of his
presentation at the conference bashing the Cannabis Licensing Authority,
the government’s regulatory apparatus for ganja.
“How
do we make money on this? What is the growth strategy?” he asked,
directing his questions to a member of the licensing authority who was
awkwardly sharing the stage with him. “I have asked, and I haven’t seen
anything.”
The
licensing authority member, Delano Seiveright, took the accusations and
jabs onstage with aplomb. Afterward, he said Dr. Knife had made some
good points. But it did not change the fact that Jamaica was desperate
for the funds that cannabis could provide.
To
claw its way back to prosperity and pay back one of the worst ratios of
debt to gross domestic product in the world, the country is adhering to
a strict austerity regime set out by the International Monetary Fund,
which has meant little public spending in the last few decades.
Now,
leaders are desperate to find any means to expand the economy. And for
some officials, earning the money quickly and efficiently means allowing
the market to determine the winners, a strategy that favors those with
resources.
“Ultimately
it’s going to be hard to stop it,” Mr. Seiveright said. “And we don’t
necessarily want to stop it. We have adopted the principles of
capitalism, but we also believe that small farmers should have a leg up
for a certain amount of time.”
Orville
Silvera, the head of an association that represents about 2,000
marijuana growers and was formed with the government’s blessing, worries
that big money will get concessions for huge amounts of acreage, boxing
out the smaller farmers toiling away on a few acres.
But
he is not opposed to survival of the fittest — so long as the farmers
who have been growing their ganja in the shadows for decades get a fair
shot.
“We want to build this from the ground up,” he said. “Let those among us who can do it expand.”
“The others,” he said, “can fail.”
