BUYING COCAINE IS 'GIVING MONEY TO WAR'

It seemed strange so many people finished their meals at the same time
as Colombia's former-president Cesar Gaviria.

We were seated next to him at a dinner in the Latin American nation
when he invited us outside to continue our conversation. We pushed
aside our plates and slowly rose.

So did another third of the room.

We walked out discussing Gaviria's role in the War on Drugs. He had
fought the powerful Medellin Cartel led by the infamous Pablo Escobar.
During his presidential campaign, candidates had a better chance of
being assassinated than elected. Gaviria felt that sting personally.
His sister was murdered in 2006.

That's when it became clear the people walking among us weren't a
coincidence - they were a security escort. That's also when Gaviria
explained the drug trade might be Latin America's issue, but it's
North America's problem.

From cocaine in Colombia to opium in Afghanistan to marijuana in West
Africa, the drug trade inhabits a dangerous world. Since mid-January,
we have felt this violence in British Columbia's 20 gang-related
murders. These incidents are rightly appalling but only a taste of
what Latin America and other war-torn nations have experienced for
decades.

Gaviria now advises Mexico on dealing with its 10,000 drug-related
murders since 2006. That's how he's come to the conclusion that the
only stability offered in this violent business comes from North
American demand.

Our strategy in the War on Drugs has traditionally been to cut off
supply. Aircrafts locate coca farms and drop a powerful herbicide on
the plants. This successfully kills it and everything else including
legal crops like bananas, coffee and other livelihoods of poor, rural
farmers.

Despite treating more than 130,000 hectares in 2005 alone, the CIA
says that growers began to aggressively replant new terrain, virtually
cancelling out earlier efforts.

It's the steady North American demand that makes this replanting so
lucrative. The annual profit for a hectare of coffee, one of
Colombia's main exports, is estimated at about $500 while coca will
bring in $5,000.

For one young woman, that price difference makes the decision of what
to plant a no-brainer.

"The farmers are thinking, 'My kids are starving,'" says Carolina
Arcila, a 26-year-old Colombian refugee. "If someone tells you to
plant a legal crop and get paid nothing, why would you?"

Unlike students in Canada or the United States, Arcila explained that
growing up in Colombia she never saw cocaine in her high school. She
did, however, see its effects.

As a teenager, she met returned child soldiers who told her about the
brainwashing tactics of the guerrilla armies. She also spoke with
individuals who had been kidnapped. One man was tied to a tree for
seven months and guarded by a group of soldiers her own age.

Two weeks before her family fled to Canada as refugees, three of
Arcila's school-aged friends were kidnapped.

All atrocities in the name of the drug trade. But, it wasn't until
Arcila got to Canada that she actually saw the narcotic.

That's when the bubbly young woman with a seemingly permanent smile
got mad.

"Do you understand that when you buy cocaine here, you're giving money
to war?" she asked. "It's the same as just handing them a gun."

But guns are exactly the strategy we've taken in the past - and it's
the strategy we're currently working with. In April, U.S. President
Barack Obama's requested $80 million for Black Hawk helicopters to
help Mexico fight its growing drug cartels.

As Gaviria stepped into his bullet-proof SUV, that's where his
exasperation came out. The man is understandably tired.

Tired of watching his people die. Tired of the negative portrayals of
his country. Tired of no one taking responsibility for our demand.

That's where the long-term solution lies. He's just tired of
waiting.

Marc and Craig Kielburger are children's rights activists and
co-founded Free The Children, which is active in the developing world.
Their column appears Mondays online at www.thestar.com/globalvoices