By Dirk Kurbjuweit
Outside Keshem, Afghanistan
As the town of Keshem draws near, Vogler-Wander, the unit commander, advises journalists traveling with the German troops to put on their bulletproof vests. The town is not known for its friendly welcome, as it survives, for the most part, from trafficking drugs. Soldiers' waves are not so readily here. Wooden sheds line the main street, where artisans are busy sawing and filing, sharpening their tools. Youths bring their customers hot bread, and spice traders proffer their sacks of red and yellow powder. The Bundeswehr troops are well aware that opium is being traded in large quantities at the end of the bazaar.
The convoy stops -- not to interfere with the dealers, but for a journalist to take photographs. Vogler-Wander had outlined the military strategy before the mission started out: "Don't look away, look closely and report anything suspicious to the local authorities." But nobody on the trip has reported anything resembling drug-related activity. The farmers no longer sow poppy seeds along the main roads. And first lieutenant's earlier conversation with the workers still rings true: "we are not looking for anything." The German commander in Kunduz has said that in the past two months, just a single poppy meadow had been reported to the Afghan authorities. German participation in drug interdiction here has been virtually non-existent.
Back in Keshem, a female petty officer has climbed onto the roof of a "Wolf" vehicle to sunbathe. She's blonde, and has been refreshing her lipstick at regular intervals. Around 50 Afghans have gathered around the vehicle to stare at this puzzling image.
Berlin / Kunduz
Speaking with Defense Minister Peter Struck about his troops and drug cultivation in Afghanistan is not unlike talking to a father about his sons -- while he's concerned for their welfare, he's also wary of them having too easy a time of it. He's said, for example, that he thinks the soldiers should be less preoccupied with themselves. This doesn't mean they should go looking for fights with poppy growers or traffickers. For the new mandate, Struck is pressing for 3,000 rather than 2,000 troops, as well as the green light to send specialists into regions not currently protected by the Bundeswehr. But he opposes altering the general political stance on drugs. He stresses this in an interview in his office, saying, "We do not want to destroy laboratories or burn fields." But he supports the idea that something must be done to combat opium. In Kunduz, the Bundeswehr is issuing a newspaper carrying the message that drugs are incompatible with the teachings of the Koran.
Struck flies regularly to Faizabad and Kunduz, and did so again in September 2004. Faizabad is a town that blends in easily with its clay-brown landscape, but once there an observer cannot fail to be impressed with its air of impenetrability. Houses are hidden behind high walls, and the men wear stone-like expressions when German delegations drive up the main street. Women here wear the burka.
Faizabad is also home to the Rabbani family. According to Bundeswehr intelligence, the Rabbanis command a force of 1,500 armed men. The bulk of the family's wealth is generated by opium. Large quantities of poppies are grown in the mountains around Faizabad. Security here is a constant concern for the Germans. During his last visit, Struck skipped a scheduled visit to a hospital on the advice of his soldiers.
In Kunduz itself, he met with General Mohammed Daud at the German camp. They sat on the terrace, their delegations opposite each other, and exchanged pleasantries while Daud asserted that he considered drug cultivation a great evil that he intended to fight. As the regional ruler and deputy minister of the interior, he's charged with taking the fight to the opium industry. Struck was well aware of the fact that Daud might be involved in the opium business himself. At the meeting, he knew for a fact that the police officer sitting next to Daud was involved in the opium trade. Income from poppy sales in Afghanistan amounts to $2.8 billion, around 60 percent of the country's total economic turnover.
Struck remained friendly, acting as if he really believed both men were committed to fighting the opium economy. Honesty is not the most essential attribute in diplomacy, but nevertheless, watching a German defense minister give two probable gangsters the impression that they were real partners of Germany is downright farcical.
The international community's plan for Afghanistan is dependant on having reliable partners. The British advise the government in combating drugs, the Germans assist in training the police force, and the Italians work on setting up a fair justice system. These are the key institutions designed to help the Afghans challenge drug cultivation and trafficking.
An Afghan drug detection squad was created in January 2004. Last year they destroyed 70 laboratories and confiscated 80 tons of opiates. Annual export figures of the drugs are estimated at 4,200 tons. In May, the Americans again complained that Karzai's government was not doing enough to fight opium. A major dispute broke out, then fizzled. The Afghans, it was said, are perfectly able to fight the drug problem by themselves. But clearly they are not, and they won't be anytime soon.
Would German troops be more capable?
During a flight to Afghanistan, Struck invited journalists on board to join him in his cabin. After a few harmless questions, a female journalist spoke up. "The Bundeswehr has been active overseas for a good ten years," she said. "In this time, only two people have been shot by German soldiers. Does that not suggest that they are lacking the fighting spirit?"
The question was followed by gaping silence, and red-faced embarrassment as the crowd looked down at the floor. With eyes lowered, one could notice that the journalist who had posed the question was wearing slippers with an angel embroidered on them. The angel was leaning on a cloud and smiling pleasantly. Struck was also wearing slippers for the long flight.
The German Defense minister twice began to speak, before stopping himself. The he managed to form a sentence. "No, I don't think that German soldiers are softies." Struck's press spokesman was quick to end the conversation.
Editor's note: This is the first of a three-part series on opium in Afghanistan that will be published this week.
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