The Turkish Arms Embargo. James F. Goode
its accuracy. According to a US diplomat with long experience in Turkey, “every American official … became a walking encyclopedia on the subject and both socially and professionally their Turkish contacts heard about little else.”1
Hollywood bookended this period with two blockbuster films about drugs, displaying Turkey in the worst possible light. The French Connection (1971), winner of the best-picture Oscar, showcased two New York City detectives determined to intercept a large shipment of heroin from Marseilles before it reached the streets. Filmgoers likely suspected that most of the raw material came from Turkey. Midnight Express (1978) detailed the harrowing experience of American Billy Hayes, who was imprisoned in Turkey under horrendous conditions for attempting to smuggle hashish out of the country. During his trial, he makes an impassioned attack on the Turkish people in general. In his review of the film in October 1978, well-known critic Roger Ebert argued that it was hard to feel much pity for Hayes, who took his chances and lost. But then Ebert went on to say, “It is possible, however, to discover the irony in the fact that Turkey, whose economy is richened by an opium poppy crop that supplies much of the world’s heroin, should have such draconian drug laws at home.”2 All this illustrates the difficulty of abandoning long-held (mis)understandings.
The Nixon administration wanted a victory in the war on drugs, and the president’s Ad Hoc Committee on Narcotics focused its attention on Turkey because, of all the opium producers in the world, including Mexico, the Golden Crescent (Afghanistan, Pakistan, and Iran), and the Golden Triangle (Burma, Laos, and Thailand), it seemed the most susceptible to US pressure. As a member of NATO, Turkey received large amounts of American military equipment and economic aid, and there was much talk in Washington in 1969–1971 of using a carrot-and-stick approach to obtain the desired result: the banning of poppy cultivation. The area in Turkey where the poppies grew was relatively compact and easily accessible, unlike the mountainous and isolated areas of Afghanistan, Pakistan, Southeast Asia, and even neighboring Mexico. In addition, the government in Ankara had better control over its countryside than did any of the other producing nations’ governments. Thus, the campaign continued despite the fact that, at the time, there was no reliable way of identifying the foreign source of American heroin. Nevertheless, committee members claimed publicly that Turkey supplied most of the heroin in the United States, and the media and politicians, including congressmen representing poor urban districts, repeated this statement. The crusade continued through 1970. Washington constantly urged US Ambassador William J. Handley (1969–1973) in Ankara to take a more forceful approach with the civilian government, which continued to resist American efforts to end opium production.3
After the Turkish military took control in March 1971 in the so-called coup by memorandum, Washington found it easier to work out an agreement. The Nixon administration, which would soon establish the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA), negotiated with the Turkish generals and worked out a complete ban on cultivation of the opium poppy in return for a $35 million subsidy for Turkish farmers. Urban leaders in the United States applauded. It would be easier, they thought, to restrict foreign supply than to control domestic demand.
The ban lasted three years, or until the Turkish military withdrew from power and called for democratic elections. The new civilian government became subject to increasing pressure, especially from rural areas, to allow poppy cultivation again, which had a long history in Turkey. Peasant farmers found many culinary uses for the plant; especially prized was oil from the seeds, which was used for cooking. They fed their cattle the harvested stalks and other leftovers, making for very contented cows. Opponents of the ban argued that no foreign country should tell Turkish farmers what they could grow. The issue assumed nationalistic overtones.4
By the spring of 1974, rumors abounded that the government of Prime Minister Bulent Ecevit was preparing to rescind the ban, raising concerns in both houses of Congress. Representatives from major cities welcomed the decline in the availability of heroin in their districts since 1971 and warned of dire consequences for America’s urban youth should production be resumed.5 Among these congressmen were Lester Wolff, representing New York’s Sixth Congressional District and chair of the Subcommittee on International Narcotics Control of the House Foreign Affairs Committee, and Charles Rangel, also of New York City, who represented Harlem and served as chair of the Congressional Black Caucus (1974–1976). Rangel and Wolff, both Democrats, undertook a junket to Turkey in March 1974 to familiarize themselves with the local situation and to express their concerns directly to the Turkish government.
On their return, Rangel spoke out about the likelihood of this issue leading to a confrontation between Turkey and the United States, and he criticized the State Department for ignoring rumors rather than seeking to negotiate a better arrangement that would satisfy Turkish demands. Rangel explained that the Turks did not consider the poppy a poison, and the idea of its misuse was foreign to them. For centuries, farmers had grown the poppy as a staple. Thus, if the ban continued, the State Department would have to devise a program to improve the quality of life for Turkish poppy growers. The two congressmen declared their intention to meet with President Nixon and Secretary of State Henry Kissinger to discuss this very serious issue.6
The thirteen members of the Congressional Black Caucus, all of whom represented poor, urban districts, supported their colleagues’ complaints, as did other big-city congressmen such as Joseph Addabbo (D-NY) of Queens, Edward Roybal (D-CA) of Los Angeles, and Morgan F. Murphy of Chicago (D-IL). More surprising, perhaps, was the attitude of Otto Passman of Louisiana, the powerful Democratic chair of the House Foreign Aid Appropriations Subcommittee. He recommended taking a hard line with Ankara, reminding the Turks that they owed their independence to US assistance following World War II and threatening to cut off military aid “if Turkey violated its understanding with the United States over poppies.”7
In the Senate, too, there were angry bipartisan protests against a possible end to the opium poppy ban. Senators Walter Mondale (D-MN) and William Buckley (R-NY) introduced a concurrent resolution, calling on the administration to enter into immediate negotiations with the Turkish government. If they failed to reach an agreement, the president should terminate all economic assistance to Turkey. At a press conference called by concerned congressmen and senators, Wolff charged that Turkish officials had ties to organized crime, and Rangel noted that their own House resolution to cut off aid to Turkey already had thirty-two cosponsors.8
The US embassy in Ankara quickly recognized the seriousness of the issue. Writing to provide background information for the secretary of state’s upcoming meeting with Turkish foreign minister Turan Gunes, Ambassador William Macomber (1973–1977) counseled, “While we have a range of US-Turkish bilateral problems to deal with here, only one, the Turkish threat to rescind the ban on the growing of opium poppies, is of sufficient potential consequence to require your personal attention in any depth at this time.”9 Three days later, at their meeting in New York City, Kissinger raised the thorny issue, indicating its importance “in terms of American public opinion.” Gunes replied that he was “fully aware of the implications of the opium problem” and firmly suggested that they must find a solution that satisfied both American and Turkish public opinion. As he so often did, Kissinger ended the discussion on a jocular note, observing that he had learned more about opium in recent weeks than he really wanted to know. “I may go into the business myself,” he remarked lightheartedly to the Turkish diplomat. Kissinger proved adept at using humor to relieve tension and increase the sense of collaboration with his opposite number.10
As these talks suggested, there was a good deal of pushback from Turkish officials. Gunes himself was noncommittal in his meeting with Kissinger. “I cannot say categorically,” he stated, “that we are not going to grow opium poppies.” Following this diplomatic double negative, Gunes assured the Americans that his government would exercise “the fullest control possible.”11
Barely three weeks later, Prime Minister Ecevit took a less evasive position, announcing to the Turkish press that “poppy cultivation is a domestic affair of Turkey. Turkey itself decides what to cultivate and what not to cultivate on its territory.” He made much of the fact that his was a democratically elected government and responsible to the people, unlike the military government that had signed the 1971 ban.12
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