A Loose Cannon's Parting Shot

By Elaine Shannon

Ask any of the President's men about the Bush Administration's commitment to the war on drugs, and -- on the record, at least -- their answers will ring with phrases like "a threat to democracy," "highest priority," "top of our agenda."

"Hot air," scoffs outgoing U.S. Customs Commissioner William von Raab in a departing blast. "We are fighting an uninspired war of attrition. A war of words. The drug issue is not a priority right now. I don't think our Government, either in Congress or the Administration, has the stomach necessary to win this battle."

In his eight years as Customs commissioner, Von Raab's penchant for independent action and colorful talk has landed him in a series of well- publicized scrapes. He was an early and vehement critic of Washington's see-no-evil policy toward Panama strongman Manuel Noriega. He appalled civil libertarians by proposing to shoot down suspected drug-smuggling planes. He infuriated the State Department by trying to mark passports of drug smugglers caught at the border. He promoted the "zero tolerance" program that called for prosecuting people apprehended with small amounts of drugs and confiscating their cars, boats and planes.

This week Von Raab, 47, leaves office with an encouraging prod from Treasury Secretary Nicholas Brady. Treasury officials say Brady asked Von Raab to be gone late Monday, after he presides at a ceremony marking the 200th anniversary of the Customs Service.

As a valedictory, Von Raab has written to Bush warning that drug czar William Bennett's efforts are being undermined at the Cabinet and sub-Cabinet levels by "political jockeying, backstabbing and malaise." Von Raab has warm words for Bush but scorns the President's cautious, pragmatic advisers, including Brady, Secretary of State James Baker and Attorney General Dick Thornburgh. Except for drug czar Bennett and HUD Secretary Jack Kemp, he says, the Bush team is afraid of taking risks and making waves.

"Since the election, I've heard virtually nothing from the powers that be about the war on drugs," Von Raab protests. "On occasion there is a ceremonial session in which some official talks to us for ten minutes, but as a practical matter, we have been becalmed for a year now. No initiatives, no bold strokes."

Von Raab admits that he and Brady have never got along. Brady, he says, has treated the drug issue as a "bother" and has hardly discussed it with him. A spokesman for Brady counters that "Mr. Von Raab's judgment may be affected by the decision to appoint a new Customs commissioner."

Von Raab acknowledges that his agency has not made a dent in the U.S. drug supply, despite some record-breaking seizures. He contends that interdiction and domestic enforcement are doomed to fail as long as the international market is glutted with cocaine, marijuana and heroin. "We're not using any diplomatic energies of consequence to try to put pressure on the producer and transshipping countries," he complains.

In his letter to Bush, Von Raab targets the foreign policy establishment for special scorn: "Maybe it is time for the war on drugs to take its place as our nation's top priority, to interfere with banking interests and Third World debt schemes. Time to interfere with State Department bureaucrats' quest to make the world safe for cocktail parties." State Department officials call Von Raab a "loose cannon" who lacks "a certain rationality." He responds . in kind, calling his Foggy Bottom critics "wimps . . . conscientious objectors in the war on drugs."

Some of Von Raab's positions are extreme by any standard. He told TIME that he would support sending U.S. troops to Latin America to clean out the Medellin cocaine cartel -- preferably with the Colombian government's permission but without it if necessary. "People talk about sovereignty," says Von Raab, "but what about our sovereignty? They are chemical-weapons factories. They fly poison out and drop it on shopping malls."

Such talk is anathema at State and Justice, where military intervention is viewed as a blatant violation of international law that would inflame the Latin nations. Bennett supports limited use of U.S. military advisers, but only for training and only at the invitation of the host nations.

Von Raab stresses that unilateral military action should be a last resort. He would prefer to use trade and financial sanctions against drug-source nations such as Mexico -- also anathema to traditionalists at State and Treasury, who argue that punitive economic measures would undermine Latin American economies and drive thousands more people into the drug underground. "Before long, there may be provisions in International Monetary Fund loans about ((protecting)) elephants in Kenya and rain forests in Brazil," says Von Raab, "but there are no provisions on drugs."

At Justice, Thornburgh and his aides take a dim view as well of Von Raab's "Operation Paladin" plan to offer multimillion-dollar bounties for drug kingpins. Officials say Von Raab is "grandstanding" and fear bounties would invite international kidnaping.

Von Raab is not without allies. Bennett says admiringly that his "style is often imperfect, but the substance is on target." An official at the Drug Enforcement Administration who has sparred bitterly with Von Raab on turf issues says, nonetheless, "You've got to hand it to him. Willy has guts."

Democratic Senator Dennis DeConcini and Republicans Jesse Helms, Alfonse D'Amato and Pete Wilson urged George Bush and Baker to name Von Raab drug czar or at least reward him with an ambassadorship. They were rebuffed. But Von Raab's highly public parting shots may soon give Bush reason to wish he had kept his audacious Customs commissioner inside the tent.