Canadian Lawyer

of aboriginal law, when Woodward, 60, isn't battling the Crown to protect land and habitat for Canada's First Nations, you'll likely find him in the garden behind the Harbour House Hotel he had no intention of buying (but did in 2004) on Salt Spring Island. All he wanted was the parcel of land, adjacent to land previously owned by his father. It seemed the perfect place to re-create a flourishing farm garden that had his- torically graced the site. The owner wouldn't sell them separately. He credits both his grandfathers for teaching him about respecting the sacred nature of land and about bee- keeping. They owned farmland in B.C.'s fertile Fraser Valley and while the Great Depression wrestled it from the fam- ily, the land's mythology left a lasting impression on a young Woodward. "In no way am I comparing my family's loss to that of First Nations peoples," he says on the phone from his Victoria office, "but it has given me some insight into their losses." Respect, patience, and civility are what, he says, First Nations peoples have taught him. Woodward's legal journeys began in 1978 when he graduated from the University of British Columbia with a BA in philosophy and political science. He'd also packed in some unconven- tional occupations: blueberry picker; railroader (on the crew placing railroad ties); construction worker; commercial fisherman (he owned and captained his own boat); and Vancouver street vendor selling hair dryers while wear- ing a Viking outfit. After graduation from the University of Victoria's inau- gural law class in 1978, he clerked for the Supreme Court of B.C., then articled for Ian Waddell, following him to Ottawa when Waddell was elect- ed to Parliament. It's how Woodward had a hand in drafting s. 35 of the Constitution Act. Upon returning to B.C., he joined the legal team that stopped clear-cut logging on Meares Island in Clayoquot Sound with the much-publicized 1985 injunction. "Meares Island is famous to the public," he says, "but the issue is the same in dozens and dozens of aboriginal communities." In recent years, he won the first aboriginal title claim in B.C. since the landmark 1997 Delgamuukw decision. In 2007's Tsilhqot'in Nation v. British Columbia, the Supreme Court of B.C. ruled that aboriginal land title for 2,000 square kilometres in the Tsilhqot'in (Chilcotin) district exists in law. Woodward managed 37 lawyers and 59 law students as lead counsel in the case, which lasted 339 days over five years. Because of its significance to Canada, a unique advanced-costs order was issued requiring the Canadian and B.C. governments to pay a portion of the legal fees. "It's what I'm most proud of," he says. "It took a certain amount of perseverance to see that through." Eighteen years to be exact. He describes himself as optimistic as he awaits the B.C. Court of Appeal decisions on the case any day now. "One way or another, it will be a landmark decision." Currently, he's focused on anoth- seemingly insurmountable chal- er lenge. He's pitting aboriginal treaty rights against tarsand expansion plans by the governments of Canada and Alberta. The crux of the legal fight? The Beaver Lake Cree Nation's ability to access "meaningful opportunities to hunt and fish" as promised in Treaty 6. According to the claim, the tarsands have encroached on such huge tracts of land in the past two decades that there is now a conflict between the viabil- ity of the treaty rights and the Crown's right to continue to alienate land. In a hefty statement of claim, Woodward listed 17,000 permits issued by the Crown to private oil companies from around the world. He's set to argue, on behalf of the Cree, that those permits are illegal. Although he's no longer teaching, he continues to speak, across North America and beyond, about the tar- sands as "the last Wild West." He's also been quoted as an expert in The Tipping Point, a documentary about the tarsands that aired on The Nature of Things. Off camera, support for the Cree's case trickles in as well. When U.K.- based The Co-operative Credit Union polled its members, they voted Canada's tarsands the world's biggest climate threat. One afternoon, Woodward received an unsolicited call from Colin Baines, The Co-operative's toxic fuels campaign manager, offering unsolicited financial support for the Beaver Lake Cree case. Woodward has also received offers of pro bono work from the U.K.'s Michael Mansfield's social justice Tooks Chambers. "Environmental pro- tection," he says, "depends on finding a legal objection to industrial practices. The constitutional angle is the only place left to fight." He credits his UVic professors for steering him toward aboriginal law "when it was considered a fringe area" in the '70s. He wrote Native Law, the first Canadian text on the subject pub- lished in 1989, now two volumes thick and updated six times a year. Add 19 years as an adjunct professor at UVic, where he developed and taught the first credit course on aboriginal law. His amazing energy level is summed up by partner Eamon Murphy: "Jack's passion for the practice of law is equaled by his enthusiasm and dedication to the edu- cation and mentorship of law students and new lawyers. To know Jack is to know that he's as optimistic and enthu- siastic a person as you will ever find." Establishing Woodward & Co. in 1988, the firm now has 19 lawyers and a Whitehorse office that opened last September. When it's time to relax, he'll retreat with his wife to Salt Spring Island. The garden's produce, 100 yards from the kitchen, is the highlight of the res- taurant meals and his dedicated farm staff managed a clean sweep of the agricultural trophies at the fall fair. He has breakfast, steps into his beekeeper's suit and surveys his very own piece of paradise: organic, abundant, and title secure. No constitutional arguments required! Do you know someone who deserves to be Cross Examined? Tell us about the interest- ing people you know in the legal profession by e-mailing the editor at gail.cohen@ thomsonreuters.com. www.CANADIAN Lawyermag.com M A RCH 2012 19

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