OUR NEW BEST FRIEND AND DRUGS

On Nov. 9 at a villa outside Rome, Rep. Jim Ryun of Kansas asked the exiled
king of Afghanistan whether he would commit a future government in his
country to outlawing the opium trade. When Mohammad Zahir Shah did not
clearly say yes or no, Ryun asked again. The king was still unresponsive.

''I did not get a commitment,'' Ryun told me. No wonder. Producing heroin
for the European continent, especially Britain, comprises 80 percent of the
gross domestic product in a pitifully poor country. Afghanistan is the
world's leading producer, accounting for 70 percent of all opium. The
Northern Alliance, now the principal U.S. surrogate in combat, long has
competed with the Taliban for narcotics.

The rapid Taliban retreat has underlined problems of U.S. nation-building
in a foreboding country that for centuries has hosted fierce warfare. While
the U.S. goal in Afghanistan has been to protect Americans by removing
Osama bin Laden and destroying al-Qaida, the Americans also plan to install
a successor government in Kabul. This task's magnitude is shown by King
Zahir's equivocation and the Northern Alliance's involvement when it comes
to illegal drugs.

Because Afghanistan's heroin goes to Europe instead of North America,
Washington's interest was minimal--until Sept. 11.

U.S. officials noted that the Taliban were financed mainly by opium
production, including a tax levied on sales. Chairman Henry Hyde of the
House International Relations Committee, addressing the House Oct. 3, cited
reports that ''bin Laden's advisers whisper in his ear that these illicit
drugs are yet another way to poison the hated West.''

On Oct. 12, Hyde amended the anti-terrorist bill by authorizing $5 million
for drug enforcement police training in South and Central Asia. His
argument mentioned only the Taliban, but the annual United Nations report
on opium poppy production released last month shows most of this year's
harvest in Afghanistan came from the 10 percent of the country then
controlled by the Northern Alliance.

That was the background when three Republican congressmen, members of the
speaker's Drug Task Force, visited King Zahir at his heavily guarded
Italian home located on a private golf course. They were encouraged that
reports of the 87-year-old long-exiled monarch's senility were greatly
exaggerated. Zahir crisply declared his contempt for the Taliban and
al-Qaida, and expressed his willingness to help establish a new government.

The trouble came when Ryun asked whether the king opposed cultivation of
opium, and he replied that Afghanistan is not the only country producing
drugs. Ryun persisted, asking Zahir's personal opinion of opium. Annoyed,
the king replied, ''I smoke cigars.''

Drugs are not the only sin of Washington's new best friends. Human Rights
Watch, while conceding that abuses are a way of life in Afghanistan, last
month issued a serious indictment of the Northern Alliance. It noted
reports of ''summary executions, burning of houses and looting, principally
targeting ethnic Pashtuns and others suspected of supporting the Taliban.''

Human Rights Watch called on the anti-terrorism coalition not to support
military commanders with brutal records--such as Gen. Abdul Rashid Dostum,
the famous Uzbek warlord who has changed sides repeatedly during the Afghan
wars. Last week, Dostum's troops were in the vanguard of the U.S.-supported
offensive.

Retired Maj. Andrew Messing, executive director of the National Defense
Council Foundation, has parted company with fellow conservatives by
opposing unsavory allies in the Philippines, El Salvador and Nicaragua, and
is suspicious of the Afghan allies. ''We always end up with the scum,''
Messing told me, adding that it ''is not in the American interest.''

In the earlier Afghan war, Messing refused to join conservatives in
supporting the mujaheddin against Soviet forces because they were
anti-Christian and anti-Jewish. Challenged by colleagues, he replied, ''I
root for both sides, because the more of each other they murder, the less
my son will have to do.'' The hope was unfulfilled. Messing's son, Erick,
is a Navy lieutenant about to join the carrier George Washington in the war
zone.