Millions of dollars in U.S. aid to Colombia has certainly
succeded in destroying thousands of acres of rain forest and made the already
difficult lives of Colombian farmers more so but has it reduced the flow of
cocaine into the U.S? The following article from the Houston Chronicle brings us
up-to-date on "Plan Colombia".
U.S. aid can't fix drug war
setbacks
LAS TRES BOCANAS, Colombia -- A little more
pruning, a little more patience.
That's all these chest-high coca shrubs
require before their emerald-green
leaves can be harvested, infused with
chemicals and turned into cocaine.
But time has run out for the coca crop
of Edwar Moreno, who, like many
Colombian peasants, helps feed the drug
habits of users in the United
States.
A Colombian army unit trained
with U.S. tax dollars has spotted Moreno's
field in southern Putumayo state
and told the farmer that spray planes will
soon douse his three-acre plot
with poisonous herbicide.
Such crop-dusting sorties are one of the
linchpins of an aggressive U.S.
campaign to roll back Colombia's illegal drug
industry and prop up a Bogota
government debilitated by a 38-year guerrilla
war.
But after two years and nearly $2 billion in assistance,
Washington's
strategy appears to be foundering.
Even though thousands
of acres of drug crops have been destroyed, Colombian
peasants like Moreno
still produce tons of cocaine and heroin each year.
Marxist rebels and
right-wing paramilitary fighters continue to finance
their war efforts with
millions of dollars reaped from the narcotics trade.
The illegal armies
control more of the countryside than ever.
Yet America's role in this
nation's multifront war, an endeavor widely known
as Plan Colombia, is set to
escalate.
Already the third-leading recipient of American largesse after
Israel and
Egypt, Colombia is expected to get another $658 million in U.S.
assistance
next year.
What's more, in the aftermath of the attacks on
the World Trade Center and
the Pentagon, the Bush administration has recast
the Colombian conflict as
part of the global war against terrorism. For the
first time, Washington has
authorized Colombia to use some of the aid
directly for counterinsurgency
operations.
Drawing parallels with
Vietnam, critics claim that the United States is
marching farther down a
South American road to perdition.
"What began as mission creep has now
turned into mission gallop," says Sanho
Tree, a Colombia expert at the
Institute for Policy Studies in Washington.
"We have no definition of success
and no logical stopping point."
This summer, the U.S. Senate
Appropriations Committee released a report
concluding that the results of
Plan Colombia have "fallen far short of
expectations."
The attitude of
Moreno, the coca grower caught red-handed by the soldiers,
may help explain
why.
His crop doomed, his investment lost, it might seem that Moreno's
world is
coming undone. But the skinny 20-year-old wearing a Bugs Bunny
baseball cap
takes the long view. Like most drug farmers, he keeps a plastic
bag full of
bright red coca seeds on hand for future plantings.
"Just
about everyone has his own supply," says Moreno, as a scarecrow at the
far
end of the field sways in the wind. "You can't get rid of coca."
Bush
administration officials point out that much of the promised
military
assistance was slow to arrive. Now, they note, just about all of
the
hardware is in place and Colombia's new president, Alvaro Uribe, backs
a
more vigorous war against rebels and drugs.
Plan Colombia, they say,
demands a little more patience.
"Although we have been talking about Plan
Colombia for what seems like
years, we have actually only been implementing
our support for the plan for
14 or 15 months," says Marc Grossman, U.S.
undersecretary of state for
political affairs. "I think our money has been
spent very responsibly and we
are beginning to get substantial
results."
* * *
American-sponsored anti-drug operations
have been under way here since the 1970s,
but Washington began wading deeper into Colombia's quagmire two
years
ago.
By then, coca production was exploding and guerrilla groups
that had been
battling the government since the 1960s had become deeply
involved in the
narcotics trade.
Trying to turn the tables,
then-President Andres Pastrana unveiled plans to
upgrade the armed forces,
target drug traffickers, negotiate a peace treaty
with the rebels and extend
government services to rural areas.
To make that happen, Pastrana pleaded
for international help. The United
States responded with the lion's share of
the support. In 2000, the U.S.
Congress approved a $1.3 billion aid package
and added another $426 million
this year.
American lawmakers justified
their support by pointing out that 90 percent
of the cocaine and most of the
heroin sold on U.S. streets comes from
Colombia.
"Pastrana's greatest
success," writes Julia E. Sweig in the
September/October issue of Foreign
Affairs, "was in conditioning the United
States to see Colombia's peril as
its own."
Nearly 80 percent of the U.S. aid has come in the form of
military hardware
and training. The army and police have received 18
Blackhawk and 42
reconditioned Huey helicopters as well as high-performance
crop-dusting
planes.
The helicopters are used to protect the spray
planes during fumigation runs.
In addition, the choppers have provided a
vital boost to the Colombian
military, allowing it to deploy troops quickly
throughout this Andean nation
divided by three mountain ranges.
U.S.
advisers have also trained three elite anti-drug battalions, which
have
destroyed scores of jungle cocaine laboratories and confiscated
drug
shipments.
"Our combat capacity is so much better" than normal
army units, says Lt.
Col. Dario Diaz, an officer in one of the counterdrug
battalions based in
Putumayo state.
The rest of the U.S. aid, about
$364 million, has been earmarked for
humanitarian projects, including
alternative development programs that help
drug farmers switch to legal
crops. Other programs have helped resettle
330,000 Colombians displaced by
the war and protect labor leaders and
journalists threatened by rebels and
paramilitaries.
But neither the Colombian government nor European nations
have come through
with all their promised funding. The last of the U.S.
helicopters arrived in
December, and the Colombian army has been slow to
train crews for them.
Pilots are still waiting for the delivery of six spray
planes from the
United States, which will bring the size of the fumigation
fleet to 22
aircraft.
"We recognize that change is not easy and that
it is too soon to reach
definitive conclusions," says Tim Rieser, an aide to
Sen. Patrick Leahy,
D-Vt., the chairman of the Appropriations Committee's
foreign operations
subcommittee.
Even so, he says, "So far, Plan
Colombia has accomplished very little."
The Appropriations Committee
report questioned the Bush administration's
overall strategy in Colombia and
pointed out that the aerial-eradication
program seems to be running in
place.
Last year, for instance, spray planes laid waste to 232,000 acres
of coca.
But partly because so many drug farmers replanted, the size of
Colombia's
coca crop, measured in acres, jumped by about 25 percent compared
with the
previous year, according to CIA estimates. By contrast, the United
Nations
believes, based on surveillance photographs, the size of the crop
dropped by
11 percent.
Either way, "there is no reason to feel
euphoric," said Klaus Nyholm,
director of the U.N. Drug Control Program in
Colombia.
Nyholm pointed out at a news conference last month that the
amount of
cocaine produced per acre has jumped, because growers are planting
more
potent strains of coca and irrigating their fields. In another
alarming
trend, coca cultivation has spread to 22 of Colombia's 32 states, up
from 12
states in 1997.
"Fumigation kills coca, but the peasants go
deeper into the jungle to cut
down more forest and to continue planting drug
crops," Nyholm said. The
region's overall production of cocaine, he added,
remained fairly steady
last year at about 800 metric tons, as coca acreage
increased slightly in
nearby Bolivia and Peru.
And in spite of
stepped-up air, land and sea interdiction efforts, Colombian
authorities have
managed to seize just 20 percent of all drugs leaving the
country, President
Uribe says.
Drug profits, according to many experts, are one of the main
reasons that
the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia, the nation's largest
rebel group
known as the FARC, has shown little interest in negotiating a
peace treaty.
In February, three years of peace talks with the Bogota
government broke
down. And in what could signal a new focus on urban warfare,
the FARC
launched a mortar attack on the National Palace last month that
killed 21
people as Uribe took the oath of office.
"Colombia became
much weaker under Pastrana and the guerrillas became
stronger," says a senior
Republican congressional aide who tracks Colombia.
"Now we've got an even
bigger problem, and we have to figure out what to do
about
it."
* * *
By any normal criteria, many critics say,
the bleak scenario would prompt an
overhaul of the U.S. aid
program.
Instead, the Sept. 11 terrorist attacks have convinced many in
Washington
that the stakes in Colombia should be raised.
Until
recently, most U.S. lawmakers firmly opposed funding
counterinsurgency
operations here, mainly because the civil war was widely
viewed as
unwinnable.
But amid the global crackdown on terrorism,
attitudes have hardened. Even
before the Sept. 11 attacks, the State
Department had placed the FARC and
the paramilitaries on its list of
terrorist groups, because both had
increasingly resorted to killing and
kidnapping civilians.
Now, there is a growing belief in the U.S. Congress
that military aid, which
had previously been restricted to counterdrug
operations, should also be
used to help the Colombian army attack rebel and
paramilitary units and
establish government control in war-torn rural areas,
says a high-ranking
Bush administration official.
Last month,
President Bush signed the paperwork authorizing such a policy
change for
military aid already committed to Colombia. Congress is widely
expected to
adopt similar measures for future assistance.
One example of the dual
strategy is a $98 million proposal for U.S. advisers
to train 500 to 1,000
Colombian troops and provide them with helicopters to
guard a strategic oil
pipeline. Jointly run by Colombia's state-owned oil
company and Occidental
Petroleum of Los Angeles, the 481-mile-long pipeline
was bombed 166 times by
guerrillas last year.
"Clearly there is a better understanding of what's
really at stake here and
that (U.S. policy) has to be more far-reaching,"
says Luis Alberto Moreno,
Colombia's ambassador to Washington. "A lot of it
has to do with Sept. 11."
A lot of it also stems from the election last
May of Uribe, a hard-liner who
calls himself "Colombia's No. 1
soldier."
Five days after taking office, Uribe declared a state of
emergency and
promised a huge increase in military spending. Unlike former
President
Pastrana, who suspended the fumigation program in some areas to
give
crop-substitution programs a chance, Uribe has pledged to spray every
last
acre.
"He's a man who told the people of his country that he
would work to
eradicate terrorism, narco-trafficking," Bush said last week at
a Washington
news conference with Uribe. "The Colombian people believe him,
and so do I."
A U.S. Embassy official in Bogota insists that Colombia's
drug
infrastructure will remain the principal target of American military
aid. He
says that only if rebels and paramilitaries are spotted in or around
zones
where anti-drug operations are already under way will American
officials
authorize the use of U.S. helicopters to go after them.
To
some extent, that's been the case all along. In the heat of battle,
Colombian
military officials say, it's often impossible to distinguish
between drug
traffickers, guerrillas and paramilitaries.
"When we go after a drug lab,
there might be 50 guerrillas guarding it,"
says Diaz, the officer in the
counternarcotics battalion.
The U.S. Embassy official insists that
America's strategy will soon pay off.
If it does not, Washington's enthusiasm
and funding for Plan Colombia could
evaporate.
"The Congress will
continue to support Colombia through next year," says
Rieser, the aide to
Sen. Leahy. "By then, we will have spent over $2 billion
and people will ask:
`What's there to show for it?'
"
* * *
--
Photos:
Page 1, above the fold, color -- caption:
Edwar Moreno inspects his coca
crop in southwest Colombia.
Page 26A,
black & white -- caption: Colombian peasants walk through a
coca
field left barren by aerial fumigation in Betas, a small town near
the
Venezuelan border.
Page 26A, black & white -- caption:
Coca pickers unload their crop in
Betas, Colombia. Despite stepped-up
air, land and sea interdiction efforts,
Colombian authorities have managed to
seize just 20 percent of all drugs
leaving the country, says President Alvaro
Uribe.
-- Graphics:
Page 26A, black
& white -- map of Colombia
Page 26A, black & white -- pie chart
showing U.S. aid to Colombia from 2000
to 2002:
Military/police
assistance: $1.37 billion, 79%
Humanitarian aid: $242
million, 14%
Alternative development: $122 million, 7%
Total: $1.73 billion, 100%
-- Text
box:
The drug war in Colombia
· Since 2000, the
United States has given Colombia $1.73 billion in mostly
military aid to
fight the drug war.
· In 2001, the size of the coca crop, the raw
material for cocaine, was
estimated at 417,430 acres, up from 302,575 acres
in 1999.*
· In 2001, the size of the opium poppy crop, the raw material
for heroin,
was estimated at 16,055 acres, up from 12,350 in 1999.*
·
Coca is now grown in 22 of Colombia's 32 states, up from 12 states
in
1997.**
· Left-wing guerrillas and right-wing paramilitaries
continue to earn
millions of dollars a year from the narcotics
trade.
* Source: CIA; 2001 is the latest year for which statistics are
available.
** Source: the United
Nations.
======================================
Some critics
doubt link between terrorism, drugs
Eradication efforts
often wind up pitting government against poor
BOGOTA, Colombia
-- Washington has tried to fuse the war on drugs in
Colombia with the fight
against terrorism, but some analysts maintain that
the two crusades work at
cross purposes.
U.S. officials say counterdrug operations help deprive
the country's leftist
guerrillas and illegal right-wing paramilitary forces
of millions of
narco-dollars. Both groups, which have been blacklisted by the
State
Department as terrorist organizations, levy taxes on drug crops
and
collaborate with narcotics cartels.
"There is a direct link
between drugs and terrorism," says a U.S. Embassy
official in Bogota. "The
AK-47s, the mortars and everything else are funded
by cocaine and
heroin."
But Matthew Briggs, research director of the Drug Policy
Alliance in New
York, argues that part of the reason Colombia's 38-year
insurgency continues
to drag on is the war on narcotics itself.
Law
enforcement crackdowns drive up the value of cocaine and heroin, he
says,
resulting in outlandish earnings for rebels, paramilitaries and
drug
cartels.
"It creates illegal markets that divert profits into the
hands of some of
the worst people on earth," Briggs says.
Others fear
that the U.S.-funded aerial eradication program targeting coca
and opium
poppy fields, which provide the raw material for cocaine and
heroin, could
backfire.
Rather than winning hearts and minds, targeting small-scale
drug farmers
could turn them against the state, says Klaus Nyholm, director
of the United
Nations Drug Control Program in Colombia.
"It doesn't
work, it's unjust, and, what's more, it distances the peasants
from the
government," Nyholm said at a news conference last month.
"There are
areas in the country where peasants have never seen a doctor, a
teacher or a
state agricultural technician, but they have seen -- and
felt -- the work of
the crop-duster pilots. This is no way to make the state
popular," he
said.
When their fields get sprayed, some destitute coca and opium poppy
growers
see no other choice but to join the rebels or paramilitaries, whose
ranks
are filled with down-and-out country people, says Manuel Alzate, mayor
of
Puerto Asis in southern Putumayo state.
"There are no alternatives
for peasants," says Alzate, pointing out that
rural unemployment in Colombia
tops 50 percent. "The situation is getting
more critical by the
day."