Montreal Gazette

WEB OF INTRIGUE

Ottawa’s revised position on chrysotile, of which Canada used to be a major exporter, is expected to be among the talking points at the Rotterdam Convention conference now underway in Geneva. So, too, is the strange case of Robert Moore, who faces legal a

- Michelle Lalonde reports. mlalonde@postmedia.com

As Canada joins other nations in Geneva to push for action against asbestos, a corporate-espionage case with a Montreal connection is unfolding in Britain. Michelle Lalonde untangles the threads.

This week in Geneva, delegates to a conference of the parties to the Rotterdam Convention are again discussing whether chrysotile asbestos should be put on the list of hazardous substances.

One hot topic is sure to be Canada, which until 2012 was a major exporter of chrysotile — the most common form of asbestos — and opposed its inclusion on the hazardous list.

However, Ottawa has recently and dramatical­ly changed its tune.

“When it comes to asbestos, the scientific evidence is clear,” Science Minister Kirsty Duncan said in an April 21 statement, just days before the conference got underway.

“Irrefutabl­e evidence has led us to take concrete action to swiftly ban asbestos and to support the listing of chrysotile asbestos to the Rotterdam Convention.”

The listing of asbestos would mean countries that export it would have to get prior informed consent from importing countries, which could block or set conditions on such imports.

But perhaps an even hotter topic at the conference is the case of Robert Moore, who is being sued in Britain on allegation­s he spied on members of the anti-asbestos movement for four years.

Moore attended the last meeting of the Rotterdam Convention, in 2015, under false pretences. As his case unfolds in the High Court of Justice in London, details about who he might have been working for are coming to light.

And there is a curious Canadian connection.

Maybe it was his friendly face, his polite and helpful manner, the disarmingl­y candid way he had of sharing bits of his personal life.

In emails, he’d chat about the recent retreat he’d just come back from, or a new diet he was trying.

He might offer to take minutes at a meeting.

Maybe it was the zeal he expressed for the anti-asbestos cause.

Somehow, for four years, Robert Moore managed to win and keep the confidence of leaders of the anti-asbestos movement around the world, including several in Canada and the U.S.

Using his legitimate credential­s as a filmmaker, Moore posed as a passionate anti-asbestos crusader working on a documentar­y to support their cause.

It’s alleged he managed to infiltrate private meetings, gather data on movement leaders and attend conference­s, sometimes as a representa­tive of one of the organizati­ons he was spying on.

“By attending our conference­s, Rob Moore was able to mingle with the leading asbestos experts in the world,” said Linda Reinstein, cofounder of the Washington, D.C.based Asbestos Disease Awareness Organizati­on.

Reinstein lost her husband in 2006 to mesothelio­ma caused by occupation­al asbestos exposure. She told the Montreal Gazette her organizati­on paid Moore’s travel expenses to attend two ADAO conference­s in 2013 and 2015.

“ADAO is out thousands of dollars as a result of inviting and paying for Rob Moore’s expenses,” she said in a phone interview.

But worse than the financial cost, she said, is the feeling of betrayal.

“It is shocking and unforgivab­le to see this happen at an asbestos victims conference. Haven’t we suffered enough?”

Reinstein said she is following Moore’s court case closely and hopes he will be punished “to the full extent of the law.”

The legal action in Britain was taken by five anti-asbestos campaigner­s who say they were deceived by Moore. Reinstein said she is considerin­g launching a similar lawsuit in the U.S.

Kathleen Ruff, a leading Canadian anti-asbestos campaigner, is considerin­g the same. She first met Moore at a 2012 conference in Thailand.

“He presented himself as a journalist and seemed very committed to our efforts and said he wanted to make a documentar­y,” Ruff said in a phone interview from her home in Smithers, B.C.

“He had already gained credibilit­y with the IBAS (Internatio­nal Ban Asbestos Secretaria­t) in London. He sounded credible and I had no reason to believe otherwise.”

Ruff subsequent­ly put him in touch with Canadian scientists, activists and journalist­s.

“Over a period of four years I spoke to him often by email and phone. He became totally embedded in our activities.”

Ruff eventually helped Moore get accreditat­ion to attend the 2015 Rotterdam Convention conference as a representa­tive of the Rotterdam Convention Alliance, of which she is founder and coordinato­r.

She said he seemed very curious about the issue of funding.

“He would ask, ‘Who do you know in Canada who funds anti-asbestos work?’ He would say, ‘This documentar­y is really important, where can I get funding?’

“I said, ‘I have no idea. I have no contact with funders. I pay for my advocacy work out of my retirement savings, out of my own pocket.’

“I believe what he was doing was desperatel­y trying to get informatio­n about money behind anti-asbestos advocacy.”

Ruff said Moore asked her to put him in touch with Canadian government officials sympatheti­c to the anti-asbestos cause, but she refused because “it was a sensitive time when we were hoping the government would make a decision to ban asbestos.”

Moore apparently blew his cover last June when, according to the claimants in the British case, he met with representa­tives of Global Witness, an anti-corruption charity.

In September, the charity informed lawyers at Leigh Day, a London law firm that specialize­s in asbestos cases, that Moore was spying on the anti-asbestos campaign.

Leigh Day lawyer Harminder Bains and four other anti-asbestos campaigner­s are suing Moore and the corporate intelligen­ce-gathering firm K2 Intelligen­ce Ltd. for breach of privacy and unlawful use of personal data under Britain’s Data Protection Act.

Among the claimants is Laurie Kazan-Allen, founder of the Internatio­nal Ban Asbestos Secretaria­t. Moore and K2 have yet to file their defence.

Ruff said she was horrified when she heard the news about Moore.

“Here was someone who really seemed to care,” she said. “To find out he was being paid by a secret entity to defeat our efforts was just extremely hard to hear. It was like a kick in the gut. It has caused me great distress.”

The “secret entity” that contracted K2 Intelligen­ce, which in turn hired Moore, was protected by a publicatio­n ban — until recently.

In newly unsealed court documents obtained by the Montreal Gazette, lawyers for the defendants say K2 Intelligen­ce contracted Moore to gather informatio­n about anti-asbestos campaigner­s at the request of Nurlan Omarov, a Kazakh consultant to a chrysotile mine in Kazakhstan.

Omarov is an official lobbyist at the Rotterdam Convention. He is also listed in Quebec’s business registry as one of 10 directors of the Montreal-based Internatio­nal Chrysotile Associatio­n.

The ICA is a private, not-forprofit organizati­on whose aim is to promote the use of chrysotile asbestos globally.

The group was founded in the U.K. as the Asbestos Internatio­nal Associatio­n in 1976. It moved to Montreal in 1997, at a time when Canada was a major exporter of asbestos, and subsequent­ly changed its name.

Ruff wonders whether the ICA had anything to do with Moore’s intelligen­ce-gathering activities.

“Was Omarov acting as a representa­tive of the ICA or as a consultant to a mine?” she asks.

The Gazette tried to contact Omarov as well as ICA president JeanMarc Leblond to pose that very question. Calls were not returned.

The Gazette then sent a message asking whether Omarov was acting for the ICA in hiring Moore, and whether it condones such strategies for acquiring informatio­n on the anti-asbestos movement.

A response was received from communicat­ions consultant Catherine Escojido:

“At the request of Mr. Jean-Marc Leblond, I am informing you that the ICA will not comment concerning the Rotterdam Convention or the chrysotile file. The associatio­n’s position can be consulted on our website.”

The website bears no mention of the spying scandal, but brochures on the site summarize the reasons the industry opposes inclusion of chrysotile on the Rotterdam Convention’s hazardous substance list.

The United Nations Rotterdam Convention requires that countries obtain prior informed consent from any country to which they wish to export a hazardous substance.

The convention’s scientific committee has repeatedly recommende­d that chrysotile be put on the Prior Informed Consent list because it meets the criteria.

The world has known for decades that exposure to asbestos, including chrysotile, causes several forms of cancer and other deadly illnesses. More than 50 countries have banned all forms of asbestos.

Still, the asbestos industry has found new markets in developing countries, particular­ly in Asia.

The World Health Organizati­on estimates that 107,000 workers die from asbestos exposure every year. It is the top cause of workplacer­elated deaths in Canada.

The industry likes to stress that other forms of asbestos are more dangerous than chrysotile. It says 95 per cent of the asbestos sold in the past century was chrysotile, and it is the only form of asbestos that has been traded in the past 30 years.

At every Rotterdam Convention conference since 2006, a small number of countries that mine and sell the fibre — such as Russia, Kazakhstan and, until recently, Canada — have objected to its listing or lobbied behind the scenes to get other countries to object.

Because the Rotterdam Convention works by consensus, any country that is party to it and doesn’t want a substance listed has, in effect, a veto.

Health Minister Jane Philpott made Canada’s new position clear a few days before the start of the April 24 to May 5 conference: “Breathing in asbestos fibres is known to cause cancer and other devastatin­g illnesses. The government of Canada is committed to reducing exposure to asbestos, and that’s why we are developing regulation­s to ban asbestos, as well as supporting the listing of chrysotile asbestos to the Rotterdam Convention.”

For its part, the ICA’s position paper states that if chrysotile is placed on the Prior Informed Consent list, it will cause chrysotile to be “blackliste­d” and to “experience discrimina­tion in internatio­nal trade up to ban of import.”

“Any country could just refuse to import a substance or demand additional requiremen­ts” such as additional insurance or packing, the documents states, which would increase prices.

“Exporters will face declining volumes of shipments on internatio­nal markets because of these restrictio­ns.”

This is, of course, exactly what the anti-asbestos movement hopes will happen.

However, observers predict Russia and Kazakhstan will likely succeed in breaking consensus again.

A coalition of African countries has filed a motion to change the rules so that a substance could be listed with the support of 75 per cent of nations party to the convention, if consensus is not reached.

Ruff said the amendment is controvers­ial and not a shoo-in to pass, but it might be the only hope for using the Rotterdam Convention to protect people in developing countries from the ravages of asbestos exposure.

Still, for those who want to see an end to asbestos use, these developmen­ts are good news. The U.K. court case alleging dirty tactics by the industry, coupled with Canada’s newly tough stance, won’t help the global chrysotile trade.

 ?? RICH PEDRONCELL­I /THE ASSOCIATED PRESS ?? The fibres of an asbestos rock. Canada has stopped mining and exporting asbestos because of its health risks.
RICH PEDRONCELL­I /THE ASSOCIATED PRESS The fibres of an asbestos rock. Canada has stopped mining and exporting asbestos because of its health risks.
 ?? SAURABH DAS /THE ASSOCIATED PRESS FILES ?? Children play on farmland destroyed by asbestos sediments in Roro, India, in 2014. More than 50 countries have banned all forms of asbestos, but the industry has found new markets in developing countries, particular­ly in Asia.
SAURABH DAS /THE ASSOCIATED PRESS FILES Children play on farmland destroyed by asbestos sediments in Roro, India, in 2014. More than 50 countries have banned all forms of asbestos, but the industry has found new markets in developing countries, particular­ly in Asia.
 ?? CHRIS GAREAU/FILES ?? Activist Kathleen Ruff, a leading Canadian anti-asbestos campaigner, at her home in Smithers, B.C. “It was like a kick in the gut,” she says of the revelation­s about Robert Moore.
CHRIS GAREAU/FILES Activist Kathleen Ruff, a leading Canadian anti-asbestos campaigner, at her home in Smithers, B.C. “It was like a kick in the gut,” she says of the revelation­s about Robert Moore.
 ?? T. RICH/ COURTESY OF ASBESTOS DISEASE AWARENESS ORGANIZATI­ON. ?? Robert Moore, who is being sued by anti-asbestos campaigner­s, is seen at an Asbestos Disease Awareness Organizati­on conference.
T. RICH/ COURTESY OF ASBESTOS DISEASE AWARENESS ORGANIZATI­ON. Robert Moore, who is being sued by anti-asbestos campaigner­s, is seen at an Asbestos Disease Awareness Organizati­on conference.

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