COKE AND THE CONSERVATIVE

A Leading Contender To Head Britain's Tory Party Probably Wishes He Were
Running Here Instead

LONDON - To smoke cannabis or not to smoke cannabis? To snort cocaine or to
abstain? For politically minded students in Britain, these are, most
certainly, the questions.

One day they may decide to run for office and inevitably a journalist will
ask them a question they hoped they would never face: "Did you take drugs?"
Answer yes, and come across as an honest but jaded figure who is, perhaps,
unfit for office. Answer no, and be labelled a politician. It is a very
British dilemma.

Last week, the leading contender to take over the British Conservative
party, David Cameron, was the latest up-and-comer to be put up for public
roasting. It is a shame for the Tories, really. The party had just
completed its most successful annual conference in years, Cameron had
delivered a rousing speech and looked ready to storm from last place to
first place in the contest to lead his party. He promised a new future for
young conservatives. Then, naturally, someone had to empty an ashtray in
his soup. The culprit was a the host of a Sunday morning news program. "Did
you ever take drugs, Mr Cameron?" he asked.

"I don't have to answer that question," replied Cameron. "Tony Blair has
not answered that question. I did not lead my life as a student not doing
things because I thought I was going to be a politician. I didn't know I
was going to be a politician."

"So you smoked pot then, didn't you?" the host snapped back.

And so the contest went. The interviewer failed to get a decisive answer,
but he did manage to ignite the issue. The next day, Mr Cameron's most
dangerous opponent for the Conservative leadership, former finance minister
Ken Clark, had an altogether different answer when asked the same question.
"Well, for the record, I never took cocaine," he said.

So what did he take then, and who was he suggesting did take cocaine?
Cameron? Was Clark admitting that he had smoked a little reefer but had not
snorted cocaine, so all was good? Was this just a smokescreen or a snorty
shot at a younger political opponent?

Cameron hoped his answer would settle the issue and the question would go
away. It's a naive hope considering the tabloid media circus British
politicians are forced to navigate compared with the far tamer Canadian media.

In Britain, stories about public figures and drug use, however soft, are
not the type of stories that go away. It seems ironic that here, a country
where alcohol abuse, alcohol-related crime and binge drinking are worse
than anywhere in Europe, there would be so much fuss over occasional drug
use during a politician's student days.

It is OK, it seems, for politicians to have spent their entire student
years bingeing on alcohol, vomiting in the street and punching out rival
football supporters, but smoke a bowl of pot and forget about leading your
country, matey, you are tarnished.

William Hague, the first Conservative leader to face the newly crowned
British Prime Minister Tony Blair in an election, was so keen to show his
countrymen how much he could hold his drink, he apparently exaggerated
stories about how many pints he used to slam back while making soft-drink
deliveries to pubs as a teenager.

Hague claimed that he drank at least 10 pints during the day, went home for
dinner and then out to the pub for another four. But when the truck driver
who allegedly witnessed Hague's manly consumption was tracked down by
tabloid newspapers and asked about it, he replied the true amount was
closer to six. What a lightweight, Hague could never be leader now, the guy
cannot even hold his drink.

Broach the topic of drugs, however, and it is career-ending. Strange people
these Brits, to opt for a drug that makes you vomit in the road and cause
punch-ups outside the pub while turning with heated scorn against another
drug that makes you into a quiet, potato-chip-eating television addict.

In Canada, the attitude towards drugs and alcohol seem to be completely
reversed. When Ralph Klein rolled up to a homeless shelter to shout drunken
abuse at the destitute, it almost cost him his job. But when Andre
Boisclair admits to snorting cocaine while a Quebec cabinet minister, he
seems a shoo-in to become the next leader of the Parti Quebecois.

What is it, I wonder, that is so horrendous about smoking a joint while
scarfing down a pound of Smarties that worries the political establishment
in Britain so seriously? Similarly, why is it so worrisome for a politician
to admit he may have dabbled in cocaine at an all-night party in his
misguided youth?

Still, the attitude towards drugs is very much tied to public perception.
In Britain, if you read the tabloid newspapers -- and every day about 10
million people do -- you learn that cannabis leads to psychotic behaviour
and mental illness. Yet in Canada, the government grows it and gives it to
people with back pain. They may become psychotic, but they will not be able
to move fast enough to be a real threat.

Eventually, the attitude towards drug use in Britain has to change. Britain
is far too liberal a nation, far too geographically and politically close
to even more liberal European countries, to perpetuate its scorn of drugs.

There are plenty of ways the Tories could make right-wing arguments for
liberalization of drugs. After all, drug laws are just another nanny-state
law meddling in the lives of the ordinary citizen, or so they could argue.

When, eventually, the first British politician does come out of the smoking
room with a glazed look in his eyes, pining for a box of Black Magic
chocolates, it will not be long before cabinet ministers are lining up to
brag about how many joints they smoked in their wild student days.

Until then, of course, Mr. Cameron must face the possibility that this
issue could sink him. For now, public figures just cannot admit to drug
use. It is a shame, but thank goodness that same standard doesn't apply to
journalists.