Criminalized: How the War on Drugs Targeted LA's Cannabis Communities

The same communities that cultivated cannabis culture in Los Angeles became its greatest casualties. What began as a plant shared among neighbors transformed, through decades of policy, into a weapon used against them.

The Shift from Medicine to Menace

Cannabis wasn't always illegal in California. In fact, it was available in pharmacies and used medicinally well into the 20th century. The shift began in the 1930s, fueled by racist propaganda that explicitly linked cannabis to Mexican immigrants and Black jazz musicians.

Harry Anslinger, the first commissioner of the Federal Bureau of Narcotics, built his career on vilifying cannabis—and the communities associated with it. His campaigns traded in stereotypes, painting cannabis users as violent, dangerous, and fundamentally un-American.

By 1937, cannabis was effectively criminalized at the federal level. California had already banned it in 1913, making it one of the first states to do so. But enforcement remained inconsistent until the broader cultural panic of the mid-century took hold.

Nixon, Reagan, and the War Comes Home

The modern War on Drugs began in 1971 when President Nixon declared drug abuse "public enemy number one." But it was under President Reagan—a former California governor—that the war truly devastated Los Angeles.

The 1980s brought mandatory minimum sentences, three-strikes laws, and a massive expansion of policing in Black and Brown neighborhoods. South Central, Watts, Compton, East LA, and other communities saw their streets flooded with law enforcement. SWAT raids, stop-and-frisk policies, and gang injunctions became daily realities.

Cannabis possession, even in small amounts, became a gateway to the criminal justice system. A single arrest could mean lost jobs, lost housing, lost custody of children, and a permanent record that followed people for life.

The Numbers Tell the Story

The statistics are staggering. Despite similar rates of cannabis use across racial groups, Black Californians were arrested for cannabis offenses at nearly four times the rate of white Californians. In some LA neighborhoods, that disparity was even higher.

Between 1980 and 2010, tens of thousands of Angelenos were arrested, prosecuted, and incarcerated for cannabis-related offenses. Families were torn apart. Wealth that might have been built was instead extracted through fines, fees, and lost economic opportunity. Entire generations were marked as criminals for engaging in the same activity that would later make others millionaires.

Community Spaces Under Siege

The War on Drugs didn't just target individuals—it targeted the spaces that held communities together. Asset forfeiture laws allowed police to seize homes, businesses, and property with minimal evidence. Community gathering spots were surveilled and raided. Trust between neighbors eroded as informants were cultivated and suspicion spread.

The very networks of mutual aid that had sustained cannabis culture were systematically dismantled. What had been a source of community cohesion became a source of fear and division.

The Legacy We Inherit

By the time California began reconsidering its approach to cannabis in the 1990s, the damage was done. Communities had been hollowed out. Generations had been lost to incarceration. And the wealth generated by cannabis had been pushed further underground or into the hands of those who could afford the legal risks.

Understanding this history isn't just an academic exercise. It's essential context for anyone who wants to understand why social equity programs exist—and why they matter. The legal cannabis industry didn't emerge from nowhere. It was built on the backs of communities that paid an enormous price for the plant that now generates billions in legal revenue.