ONE WAY OUT: CABBAGE, NOT COCA

Some Colombians are turning their backs on coca and returning to traditional
crops. But they are getting little help.

LOWER PATO, Colombia -- German Agudelo has been running from the cocaine
trade for two decades.

But it is hard to escape in the remote jungles of southern Colombia.
Agudelo, 39, has lost many friends and family members to the drug business
that has plagued rural life, tearing apart once quiet peasant communities.

Now, together with 60 other peasants families, he has retreated to an
isolated hillside in the southern state of Caqueta. Here, high up in the
cloud-covered rain forest, they are making a courageous stand against
cocaine.

"Coca has never been my business," said Agudelo, as he led the way on
horseback along a muddy track through the forest. "But I have been its
witness, and I have been its victim."

Barely anyone in Colombia has heard of Agudelo, or the coca-free community
of Nueva Floresta where he is a respected peasant leader.

That's hardly surprising. The three tiny hamlets that make up the Nueva
Floresta Corp. for Progress and the Prevention of Illicit Crops are three
hours on horseback from the nearest road. None of the homes have
electricity, telephones or running water.

What they do have -- at least for the time being -- is a degree of peace and
tranquility that has been lacking since the coca leaf was introduced to
these parts 25 years ago.

But cooperative leaders don't want to remain anonymous anymore: They want
the world to know what they are doing at Nueva Floresta, and they want help.

Ever since the 1980s, Colombian officials and aid workers have been looking
for a solution to the drug problem. Most of the focus, including the Clinton
administration's latest $1.3-billion aid plan for Colombia, has been on
aerial eradication of coca plants. But little effort has been paid to the
peasants who actually grow the coca and depend upon it for their livelihood.

Producing the tons of coca paste that is refined into cocaine provides a
steady income of sorts, but many peasants would rather be growing
traditional crops.

"In the rest of Colombia people think the farmers in Caqueta are all
cocaleros (coca growers)," said Carlos Julio Cardenas, a legal adviser to
the regional municipality of San Vicente del Caguan. "We have to let the
rest of the country know that these are people who are contributing to
peace."

Agudelo and the peasants at Nueva Floresta believe they hold the answer to
the coca problem. Instead of spending millions of dollars to buy helicopters
and train counter-drug battalions, the money would be better spent helping
peasant farmers voluntarily abandon growing coca, development activists say.

Agudelo left his home farther north in the Cauca Valley when the drug
cartels moved in. At first he resettled in Putumayo, in the remote southwest
of Colombia, close the border with Ecuador. For a while he made a living
growing corn, plantains and rice.

But then, as the Colombian police and military increased their pressure on
coca growers elsewhere, strangers began showing up in Putumayo with new
seeds.

It was coca. Soon everyone -- except Agudelo -- was growing it. Then the
problems began.

The man who sold the seeds was murdered. Many fell victim to greed. They
fought over land and crops. Those who tried to fool the traffickers by
diluting their coca paste to make more money paid dearly for it.

"I saw so many die," said Agudelo. "I saw friends and family consumed by it,
and fall into ruin."

As coca took over, the market for traditional crops dried up. To make
matters worse, the government chose that moment to embark on an economic
opening, allowing the country to be flooded by cheap food imports. Soon
there was no alternative to coca.

So, Agudelo moved again. This time he went east, to the Lower Pato region of
Caqueta state. Coca was being grown in the region, and anti- government
guerrillas from the Armed Revolutionary Forces of Colombia, or FARC, also
had a strong presence. But he and the other peasants formed a pact: no coca,
no trouble.

Then last year, in an effort to jump-start peace talks, the government ceded
the region entirely to the FARC. Agudelo saw problems looming again.

With no government control in the area, one farmer started growing coca on
25 acres. When Agudelo protested he found himself denounced as being
anti-guerrilla, a virtual death sentence.

With nowhere left to run, Agudelo decided to make his case directly to the
FARC. He sought out a top FARC comandante, Jorge Briceno. After he had
explained the concept of Nueva Floresta, he was pleasantly surprised by the
response.

"They promised to leave us alone. They said they supported any effort to
improve the life of the peasants."

Since then the farmers have been clearing land to grow a mixture of corn,
cassava and even carrots and cabbage.

Last week the cooperative members met in a wooden hilltop school house in
the hamlet of Honduras. Wearing cowboy hats and spurs strapped onto rubber
boots, they discused financing for their project with Javier Munera,
director of CEUDES, a private Colombian development agency working with poor
rural communities.

They listened intently to new ideas about generating employment and making
more productive use of the land.

"In Caqueta, violence and coca have taken land away from legal forms of
production," said Munera. "This was jungle before. It's not great land."

But bulldozers were preparing to open a road into the area, he added, which
would mean farmers could get produce to market. "You have to look for what
the market demands," he advised, suggesting the farmers concentrate on
producing cheese and milk.

"The people know how to work," said Munera, "but they are also aware that
the knowledge they have is insufficient." The cooperative also needs
$350,000 in funding over four years, including $50,000 for cows and young
bulls.

Whether the farmers will get the help is uncertain. The local municipality
of San Vicente is broke. The state capital in Florencia is controlled by
right-wing paramilitaries, enemies of the FARC-controlled zone.

Munera thinks some of the U.S. military aid destined for aerial spraying
should be redirected to helping the farmers at Nueva Floresta. He estimates
it costs $2,000 to spray an acre of coca. Were the farmers growing coca on
their 14,000 acres, it would cost $2.8-million to eradicate the crops.

"There they are," said Munera. "Voluntarily opting not to grow coca. We have
to work with them. Instead of declaring war on the peasants who grow coca,
the government should be making allies of those who aren't doing it."

Nueva Floresta is not alone. Other peasant groups are following suit,
eagerly searching for funding to return to traditional farming methods.

But so far few resources are being made available. Meanwhile, military plans
are going ahead to intensify the spraying of the coca fields.

Munera notes that it was in the region of the Pato that the FARC was born in
1964, founded by peasant leaders who fled violence elsewhere in the country.
Attempts to establish better peasant living conditions were largely ignored
by the central government, which fueled support for the guerrillas.

Now farmers are asking once again that their needs be met.

If they are not, the farmers at Nueva Floresta may be left with no option
but coca. And next time a guerrilla patrol passes by the reception they get
might be warmer.