TERROR OR DRUGS? WE CAN'T WAGE WAR ON BOTH

Buried in the back pages of Thursday's newspapers, behind tales of anthrax
in the United States and woe in Afghanistan, was news that Britain may soon
decriminalize marijuana. Under a proposal offered by David Blunkett, the
country's Home Secretary, the drug would remain a controlled substance, but
police would no longer arrest people who smoke or possess it. It is only a
matter of time before Canada follows Mr. Blunkett's lead. Marijuana is not
addictive and there does not exist a single documented instance of a death
resulting from overdose. Yet 100 Canadians a day are arrested on simple
marijuana possession charges -- an absurd waste of police resources. Once
marijuana is decriminalized, perhaps Ottawa will take a serious look at its
policies on harder drugs. Outright legalization may not be appropriate in
all cases, but a rethinking of our criminal law certainly is.

Even as our policies stand, however, Canada's Justice Department is miles
ahead of the White House Office of National Drug Control Policy, whose
campaign proceeds, despite endless failures, according to a military model.
Every year, more than 600,000 Americans are arrested for simple marijuana
possession. Under U.S. federal law, pot is classified as a "Schedule One"
drug -- just like heroin and LSD. In 2000, the war on drugs cost the United
States $35-billion -- more than three times what the federal government
spent on programs to combat terrorism.

War has always been a poor metaphor where the fight against drugs is
concerned. For one thing, it invites lawmakers to pour billions into SWAT
teams and prisons -- despite the fact drug treatment has been proven to be
many times more cost-effective than enforcement and interdiction in
reducing usage. Secondly, it dilutes the meaning of "war" by turning the
word into a political abstraction. How foolish does all the chest-thumping
about the "war on drugs" sound now that the United States has suffered
massive casualties in a real war against a real military enemy?

But the war on drugs is like a real war in at least one respect: It
attracts an army of eager profiteers. Many of them are the terrorists and
insurgents we are now watching on CNN. It is easy to whip uneducated
teenagers into a righteous frenzy with fiery Marxist or Islamist rhetoric,
but to keep them armed and fed you need cash. Afghanistan and Colombia, the
world's leading producers of, respectively, heroin and cocaine, provide
excellent examples. Both the Taliban regime and the Revolutionary Armed
Forces of Colombia would have been extinguished long ago if it were not for
the revenues they have raised by taxing local drug farmers.

Western abolitionism means criminals have a monopoly on the distribution of
drugs, so profit margins in the industry are enormous. According to the
United Nations, South Asian heroin producers sell their crop for about $150
per kilogram. The local wholesale price is about $5,000. Much of the
difference goes into the coffers of terrorist protection rackets. Though
the Taliban's mullahs decided, somewhat mysteriously, to outlaw the opium
trade recently, Osama bin Laden himself is reputed to have accumulated
millions by collaborating with drug runners. Mohamed Atta and his crew
spent about US$500,000 on the Sept. 11 attack. Chances are a lot of that
money originated with Western heroin addicts. In Colombia, the situation is
similar: U.S. Blackhawk helicopters and military advisors have been sent to
fight a FARC force that is financed by U.S. cokeheads.

In other words, the U.S. war on drugs is not only unwinnable in its own
right, the campaign is also undermining a war against terrorism that we can
win.

Privately, many politicians in Washington admit the drug war is a miserable
failure. Drugs are in such abundant supply that retail prices have actually
dropped since George Bush Sr. announced his all-out war on drugs 12 years
ago. According to the Office of National Drug Control Policy's own numbers,
the price of cocaine has decreased, in real terms, by 25% since 1989; the
price of heroin by 67%. Few politicians are willing to admit defeat
publicly for fear of appearing "weak on drugs." But the battle against
terrorism perhaps supplies them with a unique opportunity finally to speak
their mind without suffering political damage. What is worse -- to be "weak
on drugs" or to be "weak on terror"?

Will U.S. politicians take advantage of this opportunity? Probably not.
During a briefing last Monday, General Richard B. Myers, chairman of the
Joint Chiefs of Staff, was asked about the U.S. fight against terrorism.
"It includes almost every agency and department in this government," he
said. "We're all interconnected in ways that we probably haven't been. The
closest analogy would be the drug war."

The "closest analogy" he can think of is a war that costs the United States
tens of billions of dollars annually, has proceeded fruitlessly for decades
and has yielded nothing except overstuffed prisons? Please, Gen. Myers, say
it isn't so.