I ran into Omar Jabara, spokesman for Denver-based Newmont Mining Corp., in the lobby of the Denver Marriott City Center on Thursday evening.
He wore a three-piece tux and talked on his cellphone, as about 100 protesters chanted outside. He asked if I could help him find my colleague, John Ingold, who was writing a story for the next day’s Denver Post.
“Sure,” I smiled, pointing to the ranting, sign-waving, megaphone-wielding throng. “He’s right out there.”
“Let’s go,” said Jabara, accepting my dare.
“Omar, you really don’t want to go out there.”
“Sure, I do. I know these people. They’re peaceful.”
Jabara, 40, is a former anti-war activist turned flack for one of the world’s largest gold-mining companies. He is one of most complex and intriguing PR guys I have ever met. No, I don’t buy everything he says, primarily because he’s a paid spokesman for Newmont — but whatever they are paying him, it isn’t enough.
Jabara grew up in Canada, the son of a Lebanese immigrant, and helped local Muslims open a dialogue with Colorado lawmakers in the aftermath of 9/11. He supported the war in Afghanistan, but opposes the war in Iraq. He was press secretary for former Colorado first lady Dottie Lamm’s unsuccessful 1998 U.S. Senate bid.
Right then, I didn’t care how smart or accomplished Jabara was.
Having just walked through the gantlet of protesters in my pin- striped suit, I did not think it wise to walk out there with Jabara.
Sure, 98 percent of them looked peaceful. But I worried about the 2 percent who did not. I had already witnessed a Denver cop threatening arrests. And several of the protesters had given me menacing stares, or outright hassled me, until I told them that I was just a guy from The Denver Post.
And then there were people like Carrie Dann, a Western Shoshone elder, with a litany of allegations regarding Newmont’s human-rights violations on her tribal lands in Nevada. How does a representative of one of the world’s largest gold- mining companies look her in the face?
All of the protesters were rife with accusations, which ranged from ripping apart mountains and dumping cyanide into bays to destroying the economies of indigenous people.
What they were most upset about was the University of Denver’s decision to give former Newmont CEO Wayne Murdy the “International Bridge Builder’s Award” at a fundraising dinner that pays lip-service to the ideals of humanitarianism.
Inside, some of Denver’s wealthiest and most powerful people were having cocktails, and taking their seats in a finely appointed ballroom, oblivious to the protesters, and waiting to hear a keynote address from former Secretary of State Madeleine Albright.
“I’m ready,” Jabara said. So I reluctantly helped Jabara find Ingold.
Within minutes, someone with a megaphone began chanting “Omar Jabara. Corporate whore!” The crowd surrounded us.
Protesters fired off questions. Why did Jabara leave the war movement? What did he get paid at Newmont? How could he do this horrible job?
Most of it was peaceful. Some of it was not. A heavy-set Native American with braids, tattoos and dark sunglasses repeatedly leaned into Jabara and at one point threatened him with bodily harm.
Jabara, however, calmly addressed questions that came his way, even as activists shouted over him, taking photos and recording videos for their websites.
Newmont, Jabara conceded, is involved in a destructive but necessary activity. It does the best it can to mitigate the ill effects and bring economic opportunities to people in the developing world.
“That cellphone you are using there,” said Jabara, “that camera, and that (video) camera — they all have gold in them.”
Zoe Williams, a 21-year-old activist who used to march with Jabara, ripped into him: “Now you are working for a multibillion- dollar mining company, supporting war and genocide and environmental destruction, everything you used to oppose.”
“You’re making a lot of assumptions,” Jabara responded.
“How can you not see the connection between the imperialism of the military and the imperialism of a mining company? How is that different to what’s happening to your relatives in the Arab world right now, Omar?”
“Last I checked, we were a mining company, not an oil company.”
“You’ve got blood on your hands, brother. Don’t expect to be accepted back in this movement ever again.”
Jabara endured for more than 45 minutes. The protesters eventually tired of him and returned to their program. I’m not sure what good came of it all, but I was impressed, knowing what weenies many PR people can be.
I walked back inside the hotel and bought Jabara a drink.
“Did you plan this whole thing?” I asked.
He swore he did not: “We talk to our critics all around the world.”
Al Lewis’ column appears Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays. Respond to Lewis at , 303-954-1967 or alewis@denverpost.com.
