Reading his contribution to the new book, "The New
Prohibition: Voices of Dissent Challenge the Drug War," I was intrigued to
learn that San Miguel County Sheriff Bill Masters once was an avid drug
warrior. It was, he indicates, simply part of what it meant to be a
Republican law enforcement official.
But after several years of approaching drug use as a criminal problem,
especially in free-spirited Telluride, he was frustrated by "the
increasing drug problems in the county." In other words, arresting and
jailing drug users, which he had accepted without question, simply didn't
work.
"One day I was out politicking,
talking to an old boy that I assumed would agree with me," Masters writes.
"... After listening to my tirade in silence for a few minutes, he slowly
turned to me and drawled, 'You know, Sheriff, I don't want to tell you
your business, but it sounds to me like you've been shoveling hay into the
wrong end of the horse.'"
To his credit, Masters drew the only sensible conclusion: "Obviously,
if we were handling the problem the correct way we would have a stronger,
safer, and healthier horse, but we aren't and we don't."
That's a compact summary of this volume of sensible, mostly libertarian
argument against the damaging, wasteful, unwinnable "war on drugs." And
no, it's not a "pro-drug" argument; most of the writers proclaim their
abhorrence for drugs, but they think the "drug war" is doing more harm
than good. And they make a strong case.
Written by police, a judge, a congressman, a mayor, and various
think-tank-types, with an introduction from former Minnesota Gov. Jesse
Ventura, this collection offers a sharp, detailed critique of the
money-sucking drug war. There's nothing particularly new here for those
inclined to agree, but it's nice to have all these facts, figures and a
few new alternative approaches between two covers.
The essays reveal in stark, practical terms how the government has
wasted billions of taxpayer dollars on the drug war only to drive up
prices — which then attracts new, profit-seeking daredevils to the
business. Supply and demand, remember? They show that the war's ammunition
falls disproportionately on minorities, and how prisons rife with drugs
may actually make addicts worse.
Meanwhile, write Mike Krause and Dave Kopel of Golden's Independence
Institute, the drug war has made a mess of U.S. foreign policy, especially
in Latin America.
"Before the United States government militarized the 'drug war' in the
Andes, a majority of coca was cultivated in neighboring Bolivia and Peru.
... (T)he success of the U.S. 'Airbridge Denial' program — the shooting
down of suspected drug flights ... — prompted traffickers to simply move
their growing operations into Colombia. ... Already the largest producer
of cocaine, Colombia became the largest coca-growing country as well,"
they write.
An essay by Fatema Gunja of the Drug Policy Forum of Massachusetts
describes how government officials have tried to conflate drugs — even
teenage pot smoking — and terrorism in the post-9/11 world.
"From television ads aired during the Super Bowl to full-page ads in
The New York Times, the government's campaign on the drug war has found a
new niche, one that rests on manipulating existing fear and anxiety over
national security matters to advance the drug war agenda," she writes.
In the closing section of the book, writers propose various approaches
to drugs that do not involve self-defeating, money-wasting, feel-good
campaigns, from "medicalizing" drug use and abuse to turning the whole
issue back to the states.
The book isn't identified as written by libertarians (and in some
cases, Libertarians), but their mark is charmingly unmistakable: "(T)he
U.S. Constitution grants Congress no authority to establish any kind of
criminal code, other than to punish treason and counterfeiting and crimes
committed at sea or on federal property."
Of course, on this issue, libertarians have a virtual corner on common
sense. Democrats and Republicans alike (with a few brave exceptions like
former Republican New Mexico Gov. Gary Johnson) are terrified to question
the drug war and risk being labeled as "soft on drugs" by an opponent,
then punished by a mindless electorate.
Strangely, President Bush got this backward. He sounded the right notes
on the campaign trail, calling for a treatment-based approach to drug
addiction, but once inaugurated appointed a drug czar, John Walters, and
attorney general, John Ashcroft, who ramped up the anti-drug rhetoric
immediately.
Issued by such a small press, it's unlikely that this fact-filled,
persuasive volume will find it into the hands of the majority of Americans
who remain stoned by the propaganda that "we're winning the drug war." But
every little bit helps.
