Cold turkey

by Kirsten Vance

“These people have been forced

to grow hash and be outlaws,

because this region has been

abandoned by the Lebanese

state and the regional and

international community,”

says Hamadan Dandash,

farmer from the Hermel district,

referring to those who

continue to grow illicit crops

despite the government’s

decade-long crackdown.

“If there weren’t patrols

everyone would grow it

because they are,

prisoners; the crisis

taken hold of them

more and more.” (,

Though still minute compared to what was grown during the war,

the last couple of years has seen an increasing number of farmers

in the Baalbek-Hermel region plant illicit crops, according

to the Internal Security Forces (ISF). “Each year the farmers try to

go back to planting hashish and poppies,” says colonel Michel

Chakkour, head of the ISF’s drug control unit, at his office in Ras

Beirut’s notorious Hobeiche building. “But we believe we destroy more

than 95% of the plantation.” Eradication of hashish crops this year was

slated to begin on July 24, but the plan was still delayed when

EXECUTIVE went to print. In mid-August there was a confrontation

between farmers and police on patrols to locate the fields. That’s not

an uncommon event, according to Chakkour, who estimates this

year has brought an increase in hash plantation. Last year the ISF

destroyed almost 8.2 million m2 (~18 hectares) of hashish and

24,520m’ of poppies. That’s up from 1998 figures of 3.3 million m’ and

2,000m’, respectively.

High on the Hermel plateau, much of which has been abandoned

and lies fallow, plots of swaying green cannabis dot the landscape.

On top of the high profits, the appeal of hashish is that it literally

grows like a weed with little care and no irrigation, while a market

is virtually guaranteed. And lines of credit are readily available

through dealers at better terms than the rare bank loans that are provided

for legitimate crops. That’s a pretty attractive combination

for an impoverished, underdeveloped region where water is scarce

and large swaths of land are not irrigated.

Emerging from the civil war, Lebanon came under intense US and

international pressure to crack down on what had become a highly

organized system of drug production and trafficking under militias,

although hashish plantation does predate the war. The eradication

program resulted in the area cultivated with illicit crops being

reduced from about 800 million m’ to 3 million m’ and Lebanon

being removed from the blacklist.

But the tragedy is that almost nothing has been done to help the region

and its farmers substitute what had been a lucrative source of income

despite this country’s success in curbing drug cultivation. It is estimated

that drug cultivation brought $80-100 million a year to the Baalbek Hermel

region and $500 million to the nation as a whole. “Lebanon

after the war was a very very weak country and state,” says Riad Saade,

agronomist and director of the Lebanese Center for Agricultural

Research and Studies (CREAL). ‘Those who wanted at that time to

eradicate prohibited crops should have simultaneously considered how

this weak and unorganized country should be structurally helped.”

What should have been done was the installation of mass irrigation

and other agricultural infrastructure, the creation of a proper marketing

system along with training and the encouragement of

agroindustry. All that should have come within the framework of a

comprehensive development program that would also aim to diversify

the region’s economy.

But the planning stage of projects intended to develop the region didn’t

even begin until after eradication. The main project aimed at the

development of the Hermel-Baalbek region was launched by the

United Nations Development Program (UNDP). The United States,

Europe and Japan were expected to be major donors to the program,

which was initially projected at about $55 million. But the money was

not forthcoming. So far just $12 million has been scrimped together

– eight years since the planning stage began. And more than two-thirds

of that amount was supplied by the Lebanese government. The UN

funding is declining and threatens to scupper the project, according

to Ghassan Seblani, the CDR representative to the program.

Though the UNDP says no concrete promises were made, it undertook

the project at the request of both the Lebanese government and

the international community. ‘There were implicit promises for the

rehabilitation of the area as has been the case in other countries that

made attempts to eradicate illicit crops,” says Christian De Clercq,

senior advisor to the UN resident coordinator in Lebanon, who was

involved in the project from the start. “Other countries may not have

succeeded but received large-scale assistance,” he explains. But Zena

Ali-Ahmad, who heads the program, says the attitude off armers must

also change: “Nothing will compare to what they made from drug cultivation.

If this is what’s expected nothing will ever be done.”

Government initiatives were meant to compliment the UN project

and would be aimed at large-scale infrastructure development

in Baalbek-Herrnel. Hariri’s Horizon 2000 plan included promises

of $300 million in funds, while the current government allocated

about $200 million, according to Seblani. But the outlying areas

have yet to become a real priority and the bulk of that money never

materialized. The largest government plan being implemented –

only to include irrigation infrastructure – is the $57 million development

project of 12 villages in the Yammoune area.

With such limited funds the projects have had almost no impact

on a region that covers about 28% of the Lebanese territory and has

a population of 250,000. “All projects to compensate or treat the

eradication of prohibited crops are folkloric and not serious,”

says Saade. “Up to now they’ve been wasting their time.” Oddly

the ISF has taken up the reigns of crop substitution – such as saffron

and pistachios – but with little thought on finding markets or

when these new plants will produce.

Not surprisingly, Dandash and other farmers are feeling disillusioned

and deceived by both the government and the international

community. “I’m not waiting for them to do anything,” he says. “I

don’t believe they will.” He has given up on the government’s

promises to install an irrigation system in the Henne! district,

spending about $8,000 to build his own well with plans for a second.

But that’s a hefty investment most locals simply cannot afford.

All this at a time when the agricultural sector is already in crisis.

Farmers in the region largely switched to common crops, but the

lack of proper regulations, norms or marketing bodies means

farmers get Little in return for their efforts, according to Saade. The

ministry of agriculture’s resources – under 0.4% of the total budget

– underscores the sector’s neglect. Improving the lot of the

inhabitants of Baalbek-Herrnel will require greater funds, which

the government doesn’t have. And many believe that significant aid

from the international community is an unlikely prospect without

a comprehensive peace settlement. In the meantime, without alternatives

for desperate farmers, the ISF may find itself with a lot more

work to do.

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