Whiteout

Home > Nonfiction > Whiteout > Page 32
Whiteout Page 32

by Alexander Cockburn


  Adams, Nina S., and Alfred McCoy, eds. Laos: War and Revolution. Random House, 1970.

  Adams, Sam. “Vietnam Cover-up: Playing War with Numbers.” Harper’s, May 1975.

  ——. War of Numbers: An Intelligence Memoir. Steerforth Press, 1994.

  Andrade, Dale. Ashes to Ashes: The Phoenix Program and the Vietnam War. Lexington Books, 1990.

  Ashley, Richard. Heroin: The Myth and Facts. St. Martin’s Press, 1972.

  Brecher, Edward. Licit and Illicit Drugs. Little, Brown, 1972.

  Branfman, Fred, ed. Voices from the Plain of Jars: Life Under an Air War. Harper & Row, 1972.

  Breckinridge, Scott. CIA and the Cold War: A Memoir. Praeger, 1993. Brun, Dan. Smoke and Mirrors. Little, Brown, 1996.

  Castle, Timothy. At War in the Shadow of Vietnam: United States Military Aid to the Royal Lao Government. Columbia Univ. Press, 1993.

  Cockburn, Andrew, and Leslie Cockburn. “Guns, Drugs and the CIA.” Transcript. Frontline, WGBH-Boston, 1988.

  Corn, David. Blond Ghost: Ted Shackley and the CIA’s Crusades. Simon and Schuster, 1994.

  Dai, Bingham. Opium Addiction in Chicago. Patterson Smith, 1970.

  DeSilva, Peer. Sub Rosa: The CIA and the Uses of Intelligence. Times Books, 1978.

  Dommen, Arthur J. Conflict in Laos: The Politics of Neutralization. Praeger, 1971.

  ——. Laos: Keystone of Indochina. Westview, 1985.

  Drury, Richard. My Secret War. St. Martin’s Press, 1986.

  Epstein, Edward Jay. “Against the Poppies.” Esquire, Dec. 1974.

  ——. Agency of Fear. Verso, 1990.

  Everingham, John. “Let Them Eat Bombs.” Washington Monthly, Sept. 1972.

  Haldeman, H. R. The Haldeman Diaries: Inside the Nixon White House. Putnam, 1994. Hamilton-Merritt, Jane. Tragic Mountains: The Hmong, the Americans and the Secret Wars for Laos, 1942–1992. Indiana Univ. Press, 1993.

  Hannah, Norman. The Key to Failure: Laos and the Vietnam War. Madison Books, 1987.

  Harris, David. “Ex-Narc Tells Tales.” Rolling Stone, Dec. 5, 1974.

  Hersh, Seymour. Cover-Up. Random House, 1972.

  ——.The Price of Power: Kissinger in the Nixon White House. Summit Books, 1983.

  Hood, Charles. “Vang Pao Guerilla General.” The Missoulian, Nov. 21, 1976.

  Isaacs, Arnold. Without Honor: Defeat in Vietnam and Cambodia. Johns Hopkins Univ. Press, 1983.

  Johnson, Lloyd. Drugs and American Youth. Institute for Social Research, 1973.

  Johnson, Ralph. Phoenix/Phung Hoang: Planned Assassination or Legitimate Conflict Management? American Univ. Press, 1982.

  Lamour, Catherine, and Michel Lamberti. The International Connection: Opium from Growers to Pushers. Pantheon, 1974.

  Lansdale, Edward. In the Midst of Wars: An American’s Mission to Southeast Asia. Harper & Row, 1972.

  Leary, William. Perilous Missions: Civil Air Transport and CIA Covert Operations in Asia. University of Alabama, 1986.

  McCoy, Alfred with Catherine Read and Leonard Adams II. The Politics of Heroin in Southeast Asia. Harper and Row, 1972.

  McCoy, Alfred. The Politics of Heroin: The Complicity of the CIA in the Global Drug Trade. Lawrence Hill, 1991.

  ——. “A Correspondence with the CIA.” New York Review of Books, Sept. 21, 1972.

  McGehee, Ralph. Deadly Deceits: My 25 Years in the CIA. Sheridan Square Publications, 1983.

  Musto, David. The American Disease. Yale Univ. Press, 1973.

  Nighswonger, William A. Rural Pacification in Vietnam. Praeger, 1966.

  Rantala, Judy. Laos: A Personal Portrait from the Mid-1970s. McFarland, 1993.

  Robbins, Christopher. Air America. Putnam, 1979.

  ——. The Ravens. Crown, 1987.

  Secord, Richard and Jay Wurtz. Honored and Betrayed. Wiley, 1992.

  Smith, Joseph. Portrait of a Cold Warrior. Putnam, 1976.

  Snepp, Frank. Decent Interval. Random House, 1987.

  Stieglitz, Perry. In a Little Kingdom. M. E. Sharpe, 1990.

  Stein, Jeffrey, and Michael Klare, “From the Ashes: Phoenix.” Commonweal, April 20, 1975.

  Thee, Marek. Notes of a Witness: Laos and the Second Indochina War. Random House, 1973.

  Valentine, Douglas. The Phoenix Program. Morrow, 1990.

  Warner, Roger. Backfire: The CIA’s Secret War in Laos and Its Link to the War in Vietnam. HarperCollins, 1995.

  Welch, David. “Pacification in Vietnam.” Ramparts, Oct. 1967.

  Yang Dao. Hmong at the Turning Point. Worldbridge, 1993.

  US Congress. House. Committee on International Relations. The Narcotics Situation in Southeast Asia: The Asian Connection. Government Printing Office, 1975.

  ——. Select Committee on Alcoholism and Narcotics. Staff Report on Drug Abuse in the Military. Government Printing Office, 1971.

  US Executive Office of the President. Office for Drug Abuse Prevention. The Vietnam Drug User Returns: Final Report. Government Printing Office, 1974.

  US Office of the Comptroller, General Accounting Office. Federal Efforts to Combat Drug Abuse. Government Printing Office, 1972.

  11

  Making Afghanistan Safe for Opium

  The first indelible image of the war in Afghanistan for many Americans was probably that of CBS anchorman Dan Rather, wrapped in the voluminous drapery of a mujahedin fighter, looking like a healthy relative of Lawrence of Arabia (albeit with hair that seemed freshly blow-dried, as some viewers were quick to point out). From his secret mountainside “somewhere in the Hindu Kush” Rather unloaded on his audience a barrowload of nonsense about the conflict. The Soviets, Rather confided portentiously, had put a bounty on his head “of many thousands of dollars.” He went on, “It was the best compliment they could have given me. And having a price put on my head was a small price to pay for the truths we told about Afghanistan.”

  Every one of these observations turned out to be entirely false. Rather described the government of Hafizullah Amin as a “Moscow-installed puppet regime in Kabul.” But Amin had closer ties to the CIA than he did to the KGB. Rather called the mujahedin the “Afghan freedom fighters … who were engaged in a deeply patriotic fight to the death for home and hearth.” The mujahedin were scarcely fighting for freedom, in any sense Rather would have been comfortable with, but instead to impose one of the most repressive brands of Islamic fundamentalism known to the world, barbarous, ignorant and notably cruel to women.

  It was a “fact,” Rather announced, that the Soviets had used chemical weapons against Afghan villagers. This was a claim promoted by the Reagan administration, which charged that the extraordinarily precise number of 3,042 Afghans had been killed by this yellow chemical rain, a substance that had won glorious propaganda victories in its manifestation in Laos a few years earlier, when the yellow rain turned out to be bee feces heavily loaded with pollen. As Frank Brodhead put it in the London Guardian, “Its composition: one part bee feces, plus many parts State Department disinformation mixed with media gullibility.”

  Rather claimed that the mujahedin were severely underequipped, doing their best with Kalashnikov rifles taken from dead Soviet soldiers. In fact the mujahedin were extremely well-equipped, being the recipients of CIA-furnished weapons in the most expensive covert war the Agency had ever mounted. They did carry Soviet weapons, but they came courtesy of the CIA. Rather also showed news footage that he claimed was of Soviet bombers strafing defenseless Afghan villages. This footage was staged, with the “Soviet bomber” actually a Pakistani air force plane on a training mission over northwest Pakistan.

  CBS claimed to have discovered in Soviet-bombed areas stuffed animals filled with Soviet explosives, designed to blow Afghan children to bits. These booby-trapped toys had in fact been manufactured by the mujahedin for the exclusive purpose of gulling CBS News, as an entertaining article in the New York Post later made clear.

  Rather made his heroically filmed way to Yunas Khalis, described as the leader of the Afghan warriors. In t
ones of awe he normally reserves for hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico, Rather recalls in his book, The Camera Never Blinks Twice, “Belief in ‘right’ makes ‘might’ may have been fading in other parts of the world. In Afghanistan it was alive and well, and beating the Soviets.” Khalis was a ruthless butcher, with his troops fondly boasting of their slaughter of 700 prisoners of war. He spent most of his time fighting, but the wars were not primarily with the Soviets. Instead, Khalis battled other Afghan rebel groups, the object of the conflicts being control of poppy fields and the roads and trails from them to his seven heroin labs near his headquarters in the town of Ribat al Ali. Sixty percent of Afghanistan’s opium crop was cultivated in the Helmand Valley, with an irrigation infrastructure underwritten by USAID.

  In his dispatches from the front Rather did mention the local opium trade, but in a remarkably disingenuous fashion. “Afghans,” he said, “had turned Darra into a boom town, selling their home-grown opium for the best available weapons, then going back into Afghanistan to fight.”

  Now Darra is a town in northwest Pakistan where the CIA had set up a factory to manufacture Soviet-style weapons that it was giving away to all Afghan comers. The weapons factory was run under contract to Pakistani Inter-Service Intelligence (ISI). Much of the opium trucked into Darra from Afghanistan by the mujahedin was sold to the Pakistani governor of the northwest territory, Lieutenant General Fazle Huq. From this opium the heroin was refined in labs in Darra, placed on Pakistani army trucks and transported to Karachi, then shipped to Europe and the United States.

  Rather belittled the Carter administration’s reaction to the Soviet-backed coup in 1979, charging that Carter’s response had been tepid and slow in coming. In fact, President Carter had reacted with a range of moves that should have been the envy of the Reagan hawks who, a couple of years later, were belaboring him for being a Cold War wimp. Not only did Carter withdraw the United States from the 1980 Olympics, he slashed grain sales to the Soviet Union, to the great distress of Midwestern farmers; put the SALT II treaty hold; pledged to increase the US defense budget by 5 percent a year until the Soviets pulled out of Afghanistan; and unveiled the Carter doctrine of containment in southern Asia, which CIA historian John Ranelagh says led Carter to approve “more secret CIA operations than Reagan later did.”

  Carter later confessed in his memoirs that he was more shaken by the invasion of Afghanistan than any other event of his presidency, including the Iranian revolution. Carter was convinced by the CIA that it could be the start of a push by the Soviets toward the Persian Gulf, a scenario that led the president to seriously consider the use of tactical nuclear weapons.

  Three weeks after Soviet tanks rolled into Kabul, Carter’s secretary of defense, Harold Brown, was in Beijing, arranging for a weapons transfer from the Chinese to the CIA-backed Afghani troops mustered in Pakistan. The Chinese, who were generously compensated for the deal, agreed and even consented to send military advisers. Brown worked out a similar arrangement with Egypt to buy $15 million worth of weapons. “The US contacted me,” Anwar Sadat recalled shortly before his assassination. “They told me, ‘Please open your stores for us so that we can give the Afghans the armaments they need to fight.’ And I gave them the armaments. The transport of arms to the Afghans started from Cairo on US planes.”

  But few in the Carter administration believed the rebels had any chance of toppling the Soviets. Under most scenarios, the war seemed destined to be a slaughter, with civilians and the rebels paying a heavy price. The objective of the Carter doctrine was more cynical. It was to bleed the Soviets, hoping to entrap them in a Vietnam-style quagmire. The high level of civilian casualties didn’t faze the architects of covert American intervention. “I decided I could live with that,” recalled Carter’s CIA director Stansfield Turner.

  Prior to the Soviet invasion, Afghanistan barely registered as a topic of interest for the national press, surfacing in only a handful of annual newspaper stories. In December 1973, when détente was near its zenith, the Wall Street Journal ran a rare front-page story on the country, titled “Do the Russians Covet Afghanistan? If so, It’s Hard to Figure Why.” Reporter Peter Kann, later to become the Journal’s chairman and publisher, wrote that “great power strategists tend to think of Afghanistan as a kind of fulcrum upon which the world balance of power tips. But from close up, Afghanistan tends to look less like a fulcrum or a domino or a stepping stone than like a vast expanse of desert waste with a few fly-ridden bazaars, a fair number of feuding tribes and a lot of miserably poor people.”

  After the Soviet Union invaded, this wasteland swiftly acquired the status of a precious geopolitical prize. A Journal editorial following the Soviet takeover said Afghanistan was “more serious than a mere stepping-stone” and, in response, called for stationing of US troops in the Middle East, increased military outlays, expanded covert operations and reinstatement of draft registration. Drew Middleton, then a New York Times Defense Department correspondent, filed a tremulous postinvasion analysis in January 1980: “The conventional wisdom in the Pentagon,” he wrote, “is that in purely military terms, the Russians are in a far better position vis-à-vis the United States than Hitler was against Britain and France in 1939.”

  The Pentagon and CIA agitprop machine went into high gear: on January 3, 1980, George Wilson of the Washington Post reported that military leaders hoped the invasion would “help cure the Vietnam ‘never again’ hangover of the American public.” Newsweek said the “Soviet thrust” represented “a severe threat” to US interests: “Control of Afghanistan would put the Russians within 350 miles of the Arabian Sea, the oil lifeline of the West and Japan. Soviet warplanes based in Afghanistan could cut the lifeline at will.” The New York Times endorsed Carter’s call for increased military spending and supported the Cruise and Trident missile programs, “faster research on the MX or some other mobile land missile,” and the creation of a rapid deployment force for Third World intervention, calling the latter an “investment in diplomacy.”

  In sum, Afghanistan proved to be a glorious campaign for both the CIA and Defense Department, a dazzling offensive in which waves of credulous and compliant journalists were dispatched to promulgate the ludicrous proposition that the United States was under military threat. By the time Reagan assumed office, he and his CIA director William Casey saw support for their own stepped-up Afghan plan from an unlikely source, the Democrat-controlled Congress, which was pushing to double spending on the war. “It was a windfall [for the Reagan administration],” a congressional staffer told the Washington Post. “They’d faced so much opposition to covert action in Central America and here comes the Congress helping and throwing money at them, putting money their way and they say, ‘Who are we to say no?’ ”

  As the CIA increased its backing of the mujahedin (the CIA budget for Afghanistan finally reached $3.2 billion, the most expensive secret operation in its history) a White House member of the president’s Strategic Council on Drug Abuse, David Musto, informed the administration that the decision to arm the mujahedin would misfire: “I told the Council that we were going into Afghanistan to support the opium growers in their rebellion against the Soviets. Shouldn’t we try to avoid what we’d done in Laos? Shouldn’t we try to pay the growers if they will eradicate their opium production? There was silence.”

  After issuing this warning, Musto and a colleague on the council, Joyce Lowinson, continued to question US policy, but found their queries blocked by the CIA and the State Department. Frustrated, they then turned to the New York Times op-ed page and wrote, on May 22, 1980: “We worry about the growing of opium in Afghanistan or Pakistan by rebel tribesmen who apparently are the chief adversaries of the Soviet troops in Afghanistan. Are we erring in befriending these tribes as we did in Laos when Air America (chartered by the Central Intelligence Agency) helped transport crude opium from certain tribal areas?” But Musto and Lowinson met with silence once again, not only from the administration but from the press. It was heresy to
question covert intervention in Afghanistan.

  Later in 1980, Hoag Levins, a writer for Philadelphia Magazine, interviewed a man he identified as a “high level” law enforcement official in the Carter administration’s Justice Department and quoted him thus: “You have the administration tiptoeing around this like it’s a land mine. The issue of opium and heroin in Afghanistan is explosive … In the State of the Union speech, the president mentioned drug abuse but he was very careful to avoid mentioning Afghanistan, even though Afghanistan is where things are really happening right now … Why aren’t we taking a more critical look at the arms we are now shipping into gangs of drug runners who are obviously going to use them to increase the efficiency of their drug-smuggling operation?”

  The DEA was well aware that the mujahedin rebels were deeply involved in the opium trade. The drug agency’s reports in 1980 showed that Afghan rebel incursions from their Pakistan bases into Soviet-held positions were “determined in part by opium planting and harvest seasons.” The numbers were stark and forbidding. Afghan opium production tripled between 1979 and 1982. There was evidence that by 1981 the Afghan heroin producers had captured 60 percent of the heroin market in Western Europe and the United States (these are UN and DEA figures).

  In 1971, during the height of the CIA’s involvement in Laos, there were about 500,000 heroin addicts in the United States. By the mid- to late 1970s this total had fallen to 200,000. But in 1981 with the new flood of Afghan heroin and consequent low prices, the heroin addict population rose to 450,000. In New York City in 1979 alone (the year that the flow of arms to the mujahedin began), heroin-related drug deaths increased by 77 percent. The only publicly acknowledged US casualties on the Afghan battlefields were some Black Muslims who journeyed to the Hindu Kush from the United States to fight on the Prophet’s behalf. But the drug casualties inside the US from the secret CIA war, particularly in the inner cities, numbered in the thousands, plus untold social blight and suffering.

 

‹ Prev