SHAPING THE DRUG POLICIES OF A COUNTRY KNOWN FOR ITS LIBERAL APPROACH

ROTTERDAM, THE NETHERLANDS

At the Green House coffee shop, you can buy marijuana and hashish in little
plastic bags for $12 at the bar. Or you can get a joint from the
wall-mounted "Reefer" dispensing machine. Across the street, the Laughing
Pope shop sells "organic drugs" -- psychedelic mushrooms and two dozen
varieties of cannabis. It's all legal.

With his shoulder-length hair and baggy cotton pants, Peter Blanken looks
at home in this Haight-Ashbury-ish neighborhood in the Netherlands'
second-biggest city. In fact, he runs an unusual research project, which
gathers data on the city's hard-drug subculture in its native setting. He
works for the Addiction Research Institute of Rotterdam, a cooperative
effort of Erasmus University, the city health service, and two foundations.

A tall man with tousled black hair rides by on an old bicycle. His name is
Sjaak, pronounced like "Jacques." He sees Mr. Blanken and stops. Is there
any work for him?

"Not yet," Mr. Blanken answers.

Sjaak, who has been using heroin and amphetamines for years, performs paid
fieldwork for Mr. Blanken. "He's a really good fieldworker," the researcher
says. "He picks up on all the methodological things that are important to
us, like the random choice of subjects, and why we pose questions in a
certain way."

Through its research and advocacy, the Addiction Research Institute plays
an important role in shaping drug policies in a nation known -- and often
criticized -- for its liberal drug laws. In 1976, the parliament authorized
coffee shops like the Green House to sell marijuana as a way to separate
that market from the one for hard drugs, such as heroin and amphetamines,
which cannot be legally sold here. Dutch researchers say the policy has
worked: Hard-drug use in the Netherlands is one of the lowest in Europe;
marijuana use is average.

The Dutch are stubbornly proud of their unique, pragmatic approach. But for
researchers like Mr. Blanken, convincing other nations of the wisdom of
that approach is a constant battle. Other European countries are angry with
the Netherlands. France in particular has pressured Dutch officials to
conform to the more hard-line approach toward drugs that is common
elsewhere in Europe. Paris wants the Hague to close the drug-selling coffee
shops, as well as drop-in centers where addicts can bring their heroin and
shoot up with clean needles under the watchful eye of a doctor or nurse.

Dutch policy also stresses prevention and the reduction of harm.
Information on the dangers of drugs is provided at schools, discotheques,
and at "rave" dances, where the drug Ecstasy is part of the culture. After
several European rave-dancers took a fatal combination of drugs and
alcohol, some of the events here have included mini-laboratories, where
dancers can find out whether their drugs have been adulterated with
dangerous substances.

Rotterdam has been a leader among Dutch cities in experimenting with
unconventional remedies to drug abuse. The research project directed by Mr.
Blanken, which began in 1994, gathers data on drug use and addicts. It
tracks their health problems and determines whether they hold jobs or
support their habits by stealing. Among other things, information collected
by fieldworkers like Sjaak has helped to show that treatment programs
offering one-on-one counseling are the most successful.

Rotterdam also tolerates so-called "house dealers" -- heroin sellers who
operate out of their homes. In exchange, they must make sure their clients
use clean hypodermic needles to prevent the spread of AIDS, and don't cause
a nuisance in the neighborhood.

With a growing number of foreign addicts passing through, however, the
police in recent years have shut down some house dealers and drop-in
centers. One unintended side effect of the closures, Mr. Blanken says, has
been an increase in infections among addicts.

The Addiction Research Institute and its staff of 15 occupy a white-brick
townhouse across the street from a small canal bordered by birches and
weeping willows. Mr. Blanken joined the institute, as an alternative to
military service, more than a decade ago. He has also worked for the
University of Amsterdam's drug-abuse center, which emphasizes clinical
research. One of his current duties is lecturing medical students on drug
abuse. "They're not very interested," he concedes. "Most dream of becoming
famous heart surgeons or brain surgeons."

The institute's director, Henk F.L. Garretsen, is a professor of addiction
on the Erasmus medical faculty, as well as head of health promotion for the
city health service. He argues that the research shows that Dutch hard-drug
users face far fewer health problems and are less likely to become involved
in drug-related crime than are users elsewhere.

"Our prime minister put the research results on the table of the French
president," he says, barely concealing his outrage. "You can show all the
research you want. They don't want to listen."

What most worries France, says Paul Lafargue, a toxicologist who serves as
the French government's national drug expert, is "drug tourism" -- young
French people visit several Dutch coffee shops, buy a small quantity of
marijuana in each one, and then resell it in France. "We demand that
Holland follow a policy that doesn't cause problems in neighboring states,"
he says.

Yet he applauds the Netherlands for its extensive efforts to counsel users
and educate young people about the risks of drugs. "We haven't been very
good at that in France," where police interceptions have been the thrust of
national policy, he says. "But we're moving toward a middle way."

At the same time, the constant criticism from France and other European
countries is having some effect here. The Netherlands recently reduced the
quantity of marijuana and hashish that can be sold in coffee shops from 30
grams to 5 grams per customer. It is also considering reducing the number
of coffee shops allowed to sell marijuana.

The "drug tourism" that the French complain about irritates the Dutch, too.
In some drug-selling neighborhoods here, local residents have overturned
parked cars with foreign license plates.

Outside the Green House coffee shop, night has fallen, and it's getting
cold. At the nearby St. Paul's Church, drug addicts with time on their
hands congregate in a warm lounge, waiting for the evening's free meal.

A visitor who sees their drawn faces can't help but wonder whether Mr.
Blanken's opinions about drug policy would change if his own daughter, who
is 5 years old, one day wanted to use drugs.

He answers without hesitating. "I'd talk to her about the good and bad
effects of different drugs, about the risks of compulsive behavior, about
the importance of the circumstances in which you consume the drug."

And if she were underage? "I'd discourage her very strongly from using any
drugs. But if she insisted, I'd encourage her to do it in a relaxed, normal
setting -- at home, with friends, not at a bar.

"It's better finding a constructive way to cope," he says. "Simply
prohibiting often doesn't work."

Copyright (c) 1998 by The Chronicle of Higher Education

Checked-by: (Joel W. Johnson)