Afghan Drug War

ERADICATING OPIUM PROVES A TOUGH ROW

JALALABAD, Afghanistan - Over the objections of farmers, heavily armed
Afghan soldiers and police have begun chopping down tens of thousands of
acres of poppy plants, challenging the opium trade in what is proving the
biggest test yet for Afghanistan's beleaguered interim government.

The government's ambitious poppy eradication program got off to a rocky
start here in Nangahar Province last week. Furious authorities in this key
poppy-growing region threatened to call it off unless aid workers lugging
sacks of compensation money paid up as soon as fields were destroyed.

During the past decade, Afghanistan became the world's biggest supplier of
opium, producing as much as 70 percent of the narcotic that is the raw
material for heroin. Opium became the country's biggest source of income.

The Taliban, who had tolerated poppy cultivation despite Islam's
prohibition of narcotics, finally banned it before the planting season in
2000. Farmers terrified of the regime's harsh justice complied, and the
poppy harvest last year fell virtually to nothing.

But with the Taliban's grip loosened after the US-led war began last fall,
farmers replanted. A United Nations survey found that up to 168,000 acres,
or 84 percent of the old fields, are being cultivated again, and this
year's harvest was expected to rival that of some of the peak years in the
late 1990s.

Under pressure from the international community, the first decree of the
post-Taliban government was to ban poppy cultivation. But the edict came in
mid-January, after seeds were already planted.

Eradicating the plants threatens the livelihood of tens of thousands of
subsistence farmers and harvest laborers, who say the compensation being
offered doesn't even cover debts to drug dealers for cash borrowed at
planting time. The campaign could spark a violent backlash not only from
farmers but from the powerful drug mafia and local commanders who have
profited handsomely from the plants.

Interim leader Hamid Karzai faces a dilemma: To get aid for a bankrupt
country, he must cut off the supply of opium - a virtual quid pro quo for
the release of $4 billion promised at a donors' conference in Tokyo three
months ago. But with farmers up in arms and local authorities under
pressure to break ranks with him, destroying the crops could undercut his
tenuous hold on power and his chances of getting elected in June.

The first day of eradication here in Nangahar Province offers a window to
an array of obstacles facing a fledging administration, from a lack of
resources and poor coordination, to the problems of dealing with an
illiterate and distrustful population that has been burned before by broken
promises of assistance.

As the sun rose over the governor's arching, colonial palace Thursday, more
than 100 emotional farmers were gathered outside the white walls, demanding
a meeting with Governor Haji Abdul Qadir. Throughout the morning, as dozens
of pickup trucks overflowing with soldiers rolled up awaiting their orders,
the murmurs from the cluster of farmers became increasingly agitated.

What if nearby fields are targeted for show, they asked, while remote or
more powerful people's farms are left alone? What if compensation is paid
to local commanders but not to farmers?

"If they had told us more than three months ago, we never would have
planted these poppies. Now we have already been paid by the dealers, and we
have spent that money," complained Haji Shafiullah Arab, 37, of Behsood, a
major poppy-growing area at the edge of the provincial capital of Jalalabad.

Reminded that the post-Taliban government took office in December and
issued the decree shortly thereafter, Arab frowned and retorted, "It didn't
sound like a strict order; it didn't sound like we'd have to eradicate."

With their beards, skullcaps, and prayer beads, the farmers of Beh Sud
looked like observant Muslims. Arab acknowledged that Islam prohibits
narcotics, but countered, "We are very poor, we owe people a lot of money,
our houses were destroyed by war, and our lives are miserable." He
acknowledged that he expected his 15 acres of poppy to yield $144,000 worth
of opium.

The governor dismissed the farmers, saying no one would be spared,
including his own 37 acres that he said he hadn't known about. But the
strain of dealing with angry constituents showed on his face.

At 10 a.m., the go-ahead was given, and teams split up to destroy the
fields. "We have decided, and now it must be done," declared police chief
Haji Zaman Ghamsharik, marching hastily to his car. Trailed by 30 pickup
trucks carrying 300 heavily-armed police, Zaman arrived at a field on the
outskirts of the city, and ordered his gunmen to leave their rockets in the
cars and find sticks to cut the poppies. "Remember what I told you," he
called out. "Do not shoot at anyone unless they shoot at you."

Without bulldozers, the results were spotty. "Come back and start from the
beginning," he called out, motioning toward the bulbs that remained on the
plants. A week shy of harvest, a few bulbs had already been scored with
blades by farmers hoping to get some opium sap out of them before they were
cut down.

As he passed gaping villagers, Zaman explained he would be followed by an
observation team and a compensation team, and urged a stiff upper lip: "We
are sacrificing to remove Afghanistan from the blacklist of the world."

Most were too shocked to reply, and in the face of such firepower, even the
most emotional ones could do nothing. Mistaking the only reporter observing
the first day of eradication for an aid worker, farmers in each village
tried to give their names and plot sizes, in hopes of immediate compensation.

"My heart is bursting," said Lal Gul, 35, of Shamuk village. "I thought it
was a free country now, so we could do whatever we wanted. I heard about
the ban, but I didn't think they'd come" to eradicate.

Following a clash in southern Helmand Province last Sunday in which eight
protesting farmers were killed by police - and a false rumor of farmers
shooting four authorities in Nangahar, the government on Wednesday raised
the compensation rate to $350 per jirib, an Afghan land measure equivalent
to about half an acre - or more than farmers would have gotten for
cultivating wheat.

The compensation is being funded by the British government, the World Bank,
the US Agency for International Development, and the European Union, said
Wahiullah Ghulam, head of the Afghan aid agency in charge of distributing
the money in four eastern provinces.

But with each half-acre of poppies yielding 53 pounds of opium, and every
pound commanding a whopping $180 in Nangahar now because of the ban, the
payment is just 7 percent of what they would get for opium. And by 1 p.m.,
not one farmer had been paid the promised compensation.

One desperate man threw himself in front of the governor's car, shouting,
"You've destroyed my crop and not paid, so you might as well kill me!"

Ghulam's team was given two weeks to survey all poppy fields in four
provinces. One in five farmers refused to register, believing the
government might eradicate only those who were listed. In the end, the team
surveyed 80,000 acres of 63,000 owners.

Carrying $340,000 in cash, his team was accompanied by nine vehicles of
soldiers as it proceeded from one village to another. But it became clear
that the survey was flawed and that paying up immediately would be
impossible. Many villages had registered fake names or not at all, and when
the payment team arrived, chaos broke out when their names weren't on the
list. Many farmers claimed their holdings were larger than surveyed. And
most weren't even home when the team visited.

At a meeting Thursday night, the governor, chief justice, and local
commanders vowed to stop the eradication if farmers aren't paid within a
day of their fields being destroyed.

"Why don't they pay on the spot?" demanded a furious Qadir, as the chief
justice nodded in assent. "We were told they would have 100 compensation
teams, and I saw one. If they don't pay, I will stop the eradication, pay
people from my own pocket, and next year, I will ask farmers to cultivate
not only in the fields, but on the rooftops of their houses as well."