CANADIAN SOLDIERS WALK FINE LINE ON AFGHANISTAN'S POPPY CROPS

Nearly a century since the humble poppy first blossomed as an
enduring symbol of military sacrifice, Canada's soldiers find
themselves shoulder-deep in flowers of a very different colour,
striking a delicate diplomatic balance between policy and practicality.

The opium poppies that blanket Afghanistan in spring are far
different and a great deal more treacherous than the red Remembrance
Day variety that bloom on city streets in November.

As Canadian soldiers patrol the vibrant pink opium fields of southern
Afghanistan, they walk a narrow bridge of neutral territory that
divides the Afghan government's U.S.-backed program to rid the
country of poppies from the interests of dirt-poor growers whose help
keeps coalition soldiers alive.

"We walk through fields all the time; every time we were patrolling
through the towns, we'd walk through all kinds of (opium) poppy
fields, everywhere," said Maj. Steve Graham, a squadron commander
with the Royal Canadian Dragoons, just back from two months in the
volatile Zhari district west of Kandahar.

Graham and his soldiers took pains to distance themselves from the
poppy-eradication teams of President Hamid Karzai, even as they
worked alongside members of the Afghan National Police - the same
agency that provides security for the crews tasked with destroying the crops.

"Our line is we have nothing to do with poppy eradication," Graham
said Tuesday in an interview. "But even though we want nothing to do
with it and we stay away from it, it can't help but have an impact on us."

For Graham, it's simple self-preservation. Local farmers who depend
on the poppy crop for their livelihood are a critical source of
invaluable intelligence, such as the movements of local Taliban
insurgents and where improvised explosive devices - or IEDs - are planted.

"They were telling me where the IEDs were, they were telling me when
guys were moving through there that they didn't recognize, and they
were pointing out a lot of good information for us," Graham said.

"Anything that damages that relationship is detrimental to what we're
doing, and there's no doubt that poppy eradication damages that relationship."

It gets even stickier when poppy-eradication teams come under attack
from the Taliban. No less an authority than Brig.-Gen. Tim Grant, the
commander of Canadian forces in Afghanistan, decides whether to
intervene if a request for help comes in, Graham said.

For the Canadian government and NATO, the equilibrium is more subtle.

Though Canadian soldiers play no role in poppy eradication, Canada
supports the program as one of the pillars of the Afghan national
drug-control strategy, said Gavin Buchan, the political director of
the provincial reconstruction base in Kandahar.

Other pillars of the strategy include programs to encourage farmers
to grow different commodity crops, developing alternative sources of
income for locals, treatment for opium addicts and improved
interdiction and law enforcement.

Perhaps the most compelling anti-poppy message is written on the
faces of the local Afghans who are addicted to the drugs that make
the flower so valuable and controversial.

Khan Mohammad, sitting crouched over his pipe in a Kandahar street,
said he discovered opium 10 years ago when a friend introduced him to
it, and hasn't been able to stop using it since.

"Slowly and gradually my condition was getting worse day by day,"
said Mohammad, whose wife kicked him out of the house. He hasn't seen
his six children in years.

"I miss my children a lot. And I feel hopelessness and helplessness,"
he said. "While begging, I earn some money and I buy (drugs). I don't
have any future; I am just waiting for my death to get rid of this life."

Messages like Mohammad's might ultimately prove to be the most
powerful weapon in Afghanistan's nascent war on drugs, said Buchan.

"The key point of it is to explain to the farmers why it is they
should not grow poppies," he said.

"They understand that it destroys the lives of those who use (opium),
oftentimes including those in their own community."

One farmer in Kandahar, who gave his name only as Abdullah, said he
earns about US$3,330 each season from just two hectares of land which
produces 45 kilograms of poppies a year. With wheat, Abdullah said he
would earn only US$1,000 during the same six-month season.