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UK: Column: The War Our Leaders Are Happy To Forget

Simon Jenkins

The Times

Thursday 20 Sep 2001

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Remember, there is a war on. I refer not to one war but
to two. The British and American Governments are fighting
two wars, openly declared by both over the past decade.
One is in response to the American air disasters of last
week. The other, against drugs, was declared by America
in 1990 and by Britain in 1994. Both wars are in response
to assaults on the integrity of Western society. Both
have been called "total" and "long-term", demanding the
global projection of military, diplomatic and economic
power. Both are fought against shadowy foes mostly
operating in regions where anarchy and poverty march hand
in hand. In each case the rhetoric of violence has been
easier to deploy than that of reason.

The War on Drugs has been lost but defeat is not admitted.
Its battle plans still lie on dusty shelves, its ships are
mothballed, its generals cashiered. Yet the two wars are
closely linked. They finance each other. Just as the IRA
was recently arrested talking to FARC guerrillas in coca-
growing Colombia, so 95 per cent of Europe's heroin came
last year from Afghanistan. The Taleban regime would not
exist were it not for opium. Part of its rage against
America is at Washington's failure to send aid after the
Taleban agreed to eradicate this year's crop.

The War on Drugs is not fought in the open, any more than
is that on terror. Aircraft carriers and Tomahawk missiles
are no help against mobile cells, agents, sleepers and
mules. The lumbering weapons of military might are what a
Middle East diplomat of my acquaintance calls "enemy-
makers". They send potential allies running for cover and
make police action near impossible. That is why
warmongering rhetoric is so absurd. The cry to "Do
something violent even if it's stupid" merely enslaves
strategy to emotion.

Richard Nixon declared the first War on Drugs in 1969.
Operation Intercept was launched and troops deployed to
search 100,000 cars at the Mexican border. Elvis Presley
offered his support and held a celebrated "hugging
meeting" with Mr Nixon. The war lasted three weeks. It
was revived by Ronald Reagan with "zero tolerance" and
a futile "45-day war" in 1986. The first George Bush
declared the current War on Drugs in 1990, demanding the
execution of all drug dealers. He sent a carrier task
force to the Caribbean to "interdict supply". The hills
of Colombia were sprayed with defoliant and napalm in
the belief that this would somehow stop New York
stockbrokers snorting cocaine. Bill Clinton did not dare
withdraw this armada (or cancel its $2 billion a year
cost) for fear of having to admit defeat.

In 1994 John Major joined in. He declared a three-year
nationwide War on Drugs, "a battle we cannot afford to
lose". He appointed a Cabinet minister to lead the
campaign. The prison population soared, cocaine consumption
doubled and heroin consumption trebled. Undaunted, Tony
Blair signed up to the same crusade. A drugs czar, Keith
Hellawell, was appointed with much fanfare. Cabinet units
and task forces leapt into being. Ministers trooped
through the sitting rooms of the British Embassy in
Bogota, baffled and bemused.

Drug dealers are not terrorists. They are supplying a
worldwide demand for drugs which governments persistently
refuse to regulate, tax or restrain. Terrorists offer
something for which there is no demand. They offer mayhem
and death. But the deployment of terror against civilians
is no less hallowed by history. Its goals may be political
not commercial. But it too feeds on social alienation and
human misery. The terrorist has his reasons. As with the
drug dealer, those who would combat him must understand
those reasons or get beaten.

I know of nobody involved in the War on Drugs who believes
it has been won, despite a quarter-century in the waging.
Since the warmongering of the early 1990s, the world drugs
trade has soared, now surpassing in estimated value that
of motorcars and oil. Since the trade is by definition
confined to criminals, it has become the prime sponsor of
conflict and terror. Whether in Chechnya or Burma,
Colombia or Iraq, Afghanistan or Northern Ireland, look
for the cash and you will find drugs. Never in modern
history can one industry have underpinned so much sheer
evil. Governments declare war on it, but seem careless
of defeat.

In his recent book Ending the War on Drugs, Ronald
Reagan's one-time adviser Dirk Eldredge concluded that
it was policy-makers, not drug users, who are "locked
up in Alcatraz for 50 years". The repeal of inter-war
alcohol prohibition had been a testament to American
democracy's ability to admit and rectify mistakes.
Democracy appears to have regressed. Rather than have
the courage to admit that the criminalisation of a
staple world product is now counter-productive to
social stability and world peace, the American
Government sticks to a failed policy and asserts that
victory is just round the corner.

Britain is no different. Its War on Drugs was still
couched in the same military terminology that is being
deployed against world terrorism. Symptoms are attacked
rather than causes. Supply is targeted rather than
demand. The reason is depressingly simple: enforcement
is sexier than social work. Any politician prefers to
be photographed with his boot on a trafficker's neck
than helping to detoxify an addict.

The war has failed. The drugs czar has been sacked.
The enemy may be packing the prisons, but drugs are
plentiful and cheap. Heroin addiction, the greatest
harm of all, is rising and penetrating ever younger
age groups. I find it hard to imagine a more
catastrophic outcome of war, a more devastating
symbol of defeat, than that.

An astonishing example of the collapse of British
drugs policy landed on my desk this week. It is a
proposal from Alan Milburn's Health Department that
will bring about the closure of roughly half the
drug rehabilitation centres in Britain. These units,
most of them run by charities at a fraction of the
cost of prison, have proved by far the most effective
way of combating drug addiction. Mr Milburn is said
to want to ingratiate himself with the Genghis Khan
of drugs policy, Mr Blair's Alastair Campbell. The
new rules are pure nanny statedom. They lay down how
everyone should run a residential home for young
people. They order no more room-sharing, insist that
rooms be private and lockable, allow unrestricted
private visits and install a mass of "health and
safety" devices. The cost of implementing the regime
will drive many homes into bankruptcy and force
all to reduce capacity by some 50 per cent.

More to the point, the rules undermine the essence of
drugs treatment. The European Association for the
Treatment of Addiction, representing half of all
rehabilitation units, simply cannot believe what is
about to happen. It pointed out this week that the
rules will "increase self-harm and suicide among
people in treatment", especially in denying 24-hour
monitoring of addicts. The rules are bureaucratic
meddling at its most destructive.

The essence of public administration should be to
make links. I imagine some tunnel-visioned health
official will have pushed the rules past Mr Milburn
with a reassuring murmur that they "look tough".
That they cut off the legs of the only institutions
struggling to rectify the Government's failure on
drugs is of no account. The logical outcome of the
new policy will be to drive thousands of heroin
addicts back on to the streets or into prison (where
addiction is endemic).

It will increase heroin consumption and push up the
world price of opium. This will fund global crime
and help the Taleban to protect terrorists. Is that
government policy? Such linkage must blow the
intellectual fuses in Mr Blair's "joined-up" Cabinet
Office. The policy on care homes means another
avoidable defeat in the War on Drugs. But that war
is embarrassing and forgotten. It ripples no political
muscles. It floats no frigates and fires no missiles.
It is the wrong war. Today's politician thinks terrorist.

The Government's conduct of the War on Drugs has had
all the subtlety of a Taleban conclave. Hundreds of
young people are still dying in that war, but the
Government is bored. Instead it is bringing us the
War on Terror. I wonder for how long.


 

 

 

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