The Marijuana Policy Project in Nevada has a chance partly because it is far better organized than its scattered opposition. The project made a smart move in hiring Billy Rogers, a Democratic political consultant from Texas, to run the Nevada campaign. Rogers sends people door to door daily to target supporters he can call on Election Day and bus to voting booths. This could make the difference in what the polls show is an almost evenly split electorate. Rogers' office is situated in a Vegas strip mall, just above an Asian massage parlor, which is right next to a children's tutoring center, which is all you need to know to understand why the project is staging this fight in Nevada. The office looks more like a sorority fund drive than a '60s dorm room. Posters drawn by children depict images like a teddy bear with a heart labeled vote yes on 9. Rogers, wearing a collarless white shirt, is still at work at 1 a.m., editing a commercial. "In college we'd sit around and talk about this—that when we grew up we were going to change these laws. And now we're doing it," he says. Rogers, who says he hasn't smoked pot in 15 years, doesn't have a personal connection to the fight, but it's pretty easy to get him into a James Carville mood. When he talks about Walters' oft repeated claim (an assertion shared by the National Institute on Drug Abuse) that marijuana has much higher levels of tetrahydrocannabinol (THC) than it used to, that, in Walters' words, "it's not your father's marijuana," Rogers goes ballistic. "It's a plant. What—it's not your father's broccoli? Its genetic structure hasn't changed in 30 years," he says, eating steak for a late-night meal. "These guys will say anything. If I had a billion-dollar budget, I'd say anything to stay in business."

That's one of the major conspiracy theories of the pro-legalization movement—a rant right out of the Eisenhower era, that the government is keeping pot illegal so it can maintain its giant drug-war bureaucracy. Its advocates also believe—as put forth directly in the pro-medical marijuana commercials of billionaire independent New York gubernatorial candidate Tom Golisano—that politicians are in the pocket of the pharmaceutical companies, who fear marijuana is such good medicine that their own products will suffer. The pro-legalization forces also believe, more convincingly, that the right wing of the Republican Party connects drug use with sin and radicalism and the failure of the family. "I've known John Walters for about 10 years, and I don't think this is about drugs for him," says Ethan Nadelmann, head of the Drug Policy Alliance. "John is a reactionary ideologue. It's the broader battle about what we tell kids about life. It's a vehicle for promoting a tougher, meaner approach to life and government." Democratic Congressman Barney Frank of Massachusetts claims the war on drugs is really a war against the Other. "Alcohol does more damage in many areas of society than drugs, particularly marijuana, but we treat marijuana as much worse, and that's because it's associated with the counterculture."

Some Republicans, however, are ready to legalize medical marijuana. Texas Congressman Ron Paul, a doctor and onetime Libertarian Party presidential candidate, has been fighting for medical marijuana. "From a humanitarian standpoint, people should never be denied this kind of help," says Paul. But fellow Republican Hutchinson stands behind the decision to prosecute. "Why would they want to authorize behavior under state law that is still a violation of federal law?" he says. "It endangers a population, to me. It gives the green light on the one hand and a go-to-jail ticket on the other."

Among cops and other law enforcers, there are sharp divisions too. Some, like Joseph D. McNamara, a former San Jose police chief and now a Hoover Institution fellow, call for an end to the criminalization of marijuana. "Most of the police officers I hired during the 15 years I was police chief had tried it," says McNamara. Like many pot legalizers, he believes the system, which he says arrests more people for marijuana than for any other drug, is racist. "Ninety million Americans have tried marijuana. When you look at who's going to jail, it is overwhelmingly disproportionate—it's Latinos and blacks." Not surprisingly, the topic is radioactive in the police profession. Andy Anderson, who was head of his state's largest cop organization, the Nevada Conference of Police and Sheriffs, announced that his board members unanimously supported the pro-pot initiative so they could focus on more serious crimes. A few days later, Anderson was forced to resign. The voice for Nevada cops then became Gary Booker, deputy district attorney in charge of the vehicular-crimes unit, until he told members of the press he believed the wild claims of political extremist Lyndon LaRouche that Soros is pro-legalization because he bankrolls drug cartels. When talking to Time at the Elks lodge where he introduced the drug czar, Booker awkwardly tried to explain away his statement: "The word cartel was used, not drug. A cartel is a group of businessmen who control price, and that's what we've got here. Three or four guys are controlling the thing." He too stepped out of the role of Nevada police spokesman.

The pro-pot people feel that victory—even if it comes not this year and not in Nevada—is inevitable. Each year there are fewer members of the pre-boomer generation, who tend not to distinguish between heroin and pot. In 1983, only 31% of Americans surveyed had tried pot; the new Time/CNN poll puts the figure at 47%. And though pot use among teens is down from its '70s highs, parents sneaking joints when their kids are asleep is a fresh phenomenon. But the polls show that Americans still cling to pot's forbidden status, which is why the pro-pot people are working so hard. "You would think you would get a change, but you're not going to," says Charles Whitebread, a law professor at the University of Southern California who has written extensively on marijuana law. "Even though it did nothing to them, the fear that it will somehow pollute their children has made some of the people who used marijuana extremely freely now say, 'Oh, gee, I wouldn't be in favor of the change in the legal status of marijuana.'" It may be that the major dividing line between the pro- and anti-legalizers is not party affiliation but parental status. And even among parents, moms see more against pot than dads.

So, barring another wave of '60s-like radicalism or a lot more poorly thought-out co-op busts by the feds, Americans' complicated feelings about pot aren't going to be reconciled overnight. And recent studies showing that marijuana can have addictive properties, though in a small percentage of cases, is going to make some parents more nervous about their kids turning into potheads. While alcohol and cigarettes may be more dangerous, a lot of parents would rather smell beer on their kid's breath than have a 29-year-old living at home, eating Cheetos and watching SpongeBob.

—With reporting by Matt Baron/Chicago, Laura A. Locke/San Francisco, Viveca Novak/Washington and Sean Scully/Los Angeles

1 | 2 | 3

Get the Magazine — Try 4 Issues Free!

Waiting to Inhale: The Politics of Medical Marijuana By Alan W. Bock Barnes and Noble: $17.05

	NATION Sniper-Suspect's Military Record John Allen Muhammad was not a standout soldier, but he was a 90 percent marksman TECHNOLOGY Broadband Service Whether you're new to the Web or a wily veteran, we offer some tips on finding the best high-speed access for you  WORLD A Nation in the Dark Shortages of food and electricity leave North Korea desperate for aid and investment  ARTS High Art of Jackass Megastar masochist Johnny Knoxville creates a new kind of comedy, a movie all about hurting himself