Colombia The War That Will Not End

By JOHN MOODY MEDELLIN

General Miguel Maza Marquez narrows his hard brown eyes when he mentions his quarry. "He's somewhere in Medellin, and very soon we'll get him." The chief of Colombia's secret police, or DAS, has been offering that prediction for nearly a year. But each time authorities announce that the capture of Pablo Escobar Gaviria is imminent, the overlord of the Medellin drug cartel slithers away. Just last week Escobar managed to elude the police once again after a massive drug raid in the northeastern part of the country. But 11 top advisers of his drug ring, including his brother-in-law, were not so lucky and have been detained.

After 11 months of all-out war, the government of President Virgilio Barco Vargas has damaged but not destroyed Escobar's multibillion-dollar empire. Since last August, when cartel hit men murdered presidential candidate Luis Carlos Galan, dozens of cocaine laboratories have been torched, one top drug baron has been killed, hundreds of suspects have been arrested, and more than a dozen extradited to the U.S. In response, Escobar has unleashed a campaign of terror that has claimed some 300 civilian lives. After two successive weekends of violence in Medellin took more than 40 lives, the government two weeks ago extradited two more suspected cartel money launderers to the U.S., reaffirming Colombia's will to win the war.

Yet cartel profits remain solid, and Colombia is still the undisputed axis of cocaine trafficking. "It's an extraordinarily exhausting and frustrating fight," says a Western diplomat in Bogota, "and it's nowhere near being over." The stalemate raises questions about the government's inability to defeat the bad guys.

Why can't the 200,000 members of the Colombian armed forces and police defeat the cartels? The top-heavy law-enforcement agencies were not designed to be a narcotics strike force. According to a secret government report, the army, navy and air force -- all involved in the drug war -- are still mainly structured and equipped to repel foreign invaders, not homegrown terrorists. The air force bought fighter jets in 1987-88 but needs helicopters to search the rugged hillsides and dense jungles where drug laboratories are concealed. The navy spent $90 million to repair submarines instead of investing in light powerboats to chase traffickers who infest the country's rivers.

Better coordination is also needed. Last year army troops were closing in on cartel chieftain Jose Gonzalo Rodriguez Gacha when an A-37 air force reconnaissance jet buzzed overhead. The aircraft was on an unrelated mission, but it alerted Rodriguez Gacha to the military's presence, and he escaped. And the explosion of narcoterrorism has diverted manpower: half of DAS's 3,000 agents guard politicians and judges whose lives are at risk.

Why hasn't Escobar been found and captured? Nearly 2,000 national police have been assigned full time to the manhunt, and Escobar is almost certainly hiding in Envigado, a suburb of Medellin. But knowing his whereabouts and bringing him to justice are two different matters. Escobar is well protected in Envigado, which he once represented in congress. Even on the run, he is hard to find in a mainly rural country nearly as large as France, Spain and Portugal combined.

When the government put a $400,000 bounty on his head, Escobar countered by offering $500 to $2,000 for each policeman killed in Medellin; so far this year, 140 lawmen in the city have died. Those who dare cross him also pay dearly: the bodies of several subordinates suspected of betrayal have turned up in recent months.

Will the capture of Escobar end the drug trade? No. Escobar may be Public Enemy No. 1, but he is not the only drug boss. A ring in Cali, thought to control the flow of cocaine to New York City, functions with almost no police hindrance because the group has refrained from using terrorist tactics. It also provides police with information about its Medellin rivals.

Escobar's demise would probably not even slow down coke production. Rodriguez Gacha's death last December created a power vacuum, which a new, even more aggressive generation of drug merchants is vying to fill.

Are the Colombian police and army corrupt? Some are; most are not. Colombian officials privately acknowledge that the army and, to a lesser degree, the police are infiltrated by the drug gangs. Says a Western diplomat: "There's too much money to be made by being Escobar's friend. And being his enemy is the quickest way I know to get killed."

Last month Barco announced a shake-up of the military's top brass. Among other things, an army captain has been sentenced to five years in prison for warning the cartel of upcoming antidrug operations.

Do Colombian authorities really want to destroy the cartels? No. The goal is primarily to drive them out of Colombia, which would not necessarily curtail cocaine production. Officials distinguish between drug trafficking, which mainly threatens the consumer countries, and narcoterrorism inside Colombia, which they are determined to stop. The constant terror bombings and assassinations have led to widespread calls for negotiation with the cartels. But that option has been rejected by both Barco and President-elect Cesar Gaviria Trujillo, who has promised to pursue the war when he takes office in August.

Who is supporting the cartel? Anyone who buys cocaine. But foreign governments help too. Earlier this year, Colombia disclosed that Israel had sold a large consignment of automatic weapons to Antigua, purportedly for its army. The guns wound up on one of Rodriguez Gacha's country ranches, where they were confiscated after his death. Chemicals needed to refine cocaine, once ordered from the U.S. and Western Europe, now come from Brazil and Ecuador, which are also becoming new production centers.

How much longer will the war go on? That question is asked with fear and frustration in Bogota. As long as cocaine trafficking is so profitable, someone is willing to kill, or die, for it. Says a U.S. narcotics expert: "Colombia is winning the war, but I wonder whether its economic and political structure can withstand the long-term commitment." The signs are discouraging. In Medellin a small boy kicking a ball around a field built by Escobar called him a hero: "To me he's more important than God." The crop of tomorrow's would-be drug lords is as abundant as the marketplace of users who make such profane comparisons possible.

With reporting by Tom Quinn/Bogota