AFGHANISTAN'S FARMERS DEPEND ON THE POPPY

The opium poppies used to make heroin grow with one-fifth the water
needed for grain, provide a yield three times greater, and bring in a
price few Afghan families can afford to turn down, writes Matthew
Fisher in Kabul.

The Amanulla brothers grow opium poppies to make heroin. As the chief
of the criminal branch of the Kabul police, Gen. Abdul Jameel is
responsible for arresting men such as the Amanullas. Yet the brothers
and the police general were in complete agreement earlier this week
about how to stop the opium trade.

"The fault is not with the farmers," said the older of the Amanulla
brothers, a tall man with a grey beard and the splayed feet of a
farmer, as he and his brother sat crosslegged on a rug offering plates
of apples and grapes to two visitors. "The farmers must support their
families. The fault is with the government for not providing work."

Across Kabul, in a large, Soviet-style office on one of the city's few
quiet boulevards, Gen. Jameel said almost the same thing.

"Drugs are the greatest challenge in Afghanistan today," the general
said. "They are a big disease. If we continue to grow poppy it could
destroy the entire nation. But don't just take poppy away from a
farmer. Give him a job."

Gen. Jameel took great pains to explain opium was Afghanistan's
shame.

"First of all, the people of Afghanistan don't like drugs," the
general said. "We are Muslim and from the Muslim point-of-view drugs
are haram (not allowed). But different regimes brought opium into the
economy.

"During the Taliban regime some big businessmen went to farmers who,
say, had five hectares of land on which they grew, say, two tonnes of
wheat for 100,000 Afghanis. These big businessmen would say, 'If you
grow poppy I will give you 200,000 Afghanis.'"

Once again, the general's words were echoed by the Amanullas.

"We feel regret when the U.S. and foreign countries call Afghanistan
the greatest grower of opium in the world. If we had not had 23 years
of war, we would not be accused of this," said the younger brother.
"Using heroin causes a sickness that is harmful to youngsters so
obviously we feel bad. They are human beings like us. They are the
next generation. So it is very sad, but we have no alternative. The
normal economy in Afghanistan is zero."

His brother added matter-of-factly: "A businessman comes and fixes a
price. If we agree, there is a sale. It's easy."

It was not always this way in Afghanistan, said the Amanullas, who
grew up on a three-hectare farm that still belongs to the family in
Kunar province near the Pakistan border.

"When we were children only five per cent of the farmers were involved
in the opium trade and there was no real difference between opium and
other crops," the older brother, who spent 24 years in the army,
remembered. "We had water and lots of rain and everything was OK. But
then came 20 years of war and 20 years of drought."

Farmers learned the poppy would grow with one-fifth of the water
required for grain, and would provide a yield about three times
greater than grain.

"The real difference was this," the older brother continued. "If we
grew wheat we would get between $200 and $250 for our harvest. If we
grew poppy we would get about $1,000. Soon all the families were
growing poppy to support their children."

Although western diplomats were skeptical, Gen. Jameel said his force
arrested anyone they found to be involved in heroin trafficking. The
Amanullas gave mixed answers on this question. They and their
neighbours all still had opium to sell from last year's bumper crop,
but they had not sold it because of police checkpoints.

"Everybody has opium for sale in their homes now because the
government has been taking measures to stop us from selling it," the
younger of the Amannula brothers said. "It is hard to get out. If they
find you with it, you go to jail."

Members of the Edmonton-based Lord Strathconas Horse said when driving
on patrol through villages near Kabul they sometimes smelled the
bitter scent of dried opium hanging in the air. U.S. army pilots
report seeing entire high-mountain valleys of red poppy flowers.

The Amanullas said the opium they succeeded in selling usually went to
Europe via the former Soviet Union or Iran.

But the only way to deal with what was Afghanistan's only successful
industry was to give Afghans an alternative, Gen. Jameel said,
returning to his favourite theme.

"We need the UN's help to rebuild our factories and we need help with
agriculture. We need to change the economy so that people will want to
grow wheat again. The international community should take part in
every field of Afghan life to help us overcome our problems."

With Afghanistan at or near the bottom of every global economic index,
and the West unlikely to donate the billions of dollars required to
lift the Afghan economy even a little, it is highly likely the
Amanullas will continue growing poppies and that Gen. Jameel's men
will continue hunting them down.

"We only desire to live like everyone else. If the government would
get us water for other crops, the poppy would be eradicated very
quickly. If we had water, we would not need to grow poppy."

As he saw his visitors to the door, the 48-year old farmer added: "If
you stopped the market for heroin in your countries, nobody would pay
a rupee for it here."