There are always two sides (some say three, or more) to a story. So it is with opium, the largest output of which is in Burma (not counting Afghanistan), the derivative of which, namely heroin, is destroying families, especially the youth, the country’s future.

No wonder it had prompted community-based organizations like PJS to take drastic actions in Kachin State during the past few months. Their campaign, to no one’s surprise, ended inconclusively in bloodshed.

No doubt the group is licking its wounds and gathering its strength for another fight during the next poppy season.

But before they embark on another bitter campaign, it is worth looking at the other side (s) of the story.

Down south in Shan State, the typical answer from the poppy farmers, if asked what/who they are growing it for, would be in this way:

For every 5 times my hoe goes into the ground (of the poppy field),

·         The first one is to feed the (Burma) Army

·         The second one to feed the PMFs (People’s Militia Forces)

·         The third to feed the rebels, and

·         The fourth to donate to the village monastery and the spirit’s shrine

·         Only the fifth is to support my family.

Most of them, especially the elderly ones, would say until after the civil war broke out in full swing, they had never dreamed of growing poppies, the fruit of which used to be a taboo in Shan society.

The only areas where it was grown commercially were Wa (60%), Kokang (30%) and Loimaw (10%). Others grew it mainly for medicinal use.

This changed with the war. Rebels needed it to exchange with arms coming from neighboring countries. The army needed it to supplement its meager war expenses, and also to induce local volunteers to fight for its cause. The volunteers also needed it to beef up their strength to help fight the rebels and, if things don’t turn out right with the Army, to fight against it.

Thus come into being the standard reply to the above question.

In the past, growing rice paddy gave them enough income to pay for their annual taxes to their rulers, to donate to the monastery, and to support their families. Moreover, many could boast surplus so they could hold or join annual festivals. Indeed, according to an old saying, “Kings and Shans crave festivities the most.”

No more today, unless you are allowed by the powers that be to work on a poppy field or you have a son or daughter working in Thailand.

Just annual slashing of the poppy fields therefore won’t end the culture of poppy cultivation which has taken root since independence.

A combination of peace process, sustainable development projects and rule of law will be necessary to successful end the production and the trade. Cooperation by all the stakeholders in the peace process, including, most importantly, the people, is imperative to win this war on drugs.

One thing that never that ceases me to wonder is why our successive governments have been buying opiates from other countries for medicinal use at exorbitant prices, instead of buying it cheaply from our own farmers.

In my simple mind, that doesn’t make any sense at all.

Of course, experts talk about the Single Convention to which Burma, since the British days, has been a signatory, where it agrees, to its own disadvantage, to become a zero-producer.

This it has done without any evident returns, plain enough for plain people like us to see.

 This it has done when The Economist, 8 October 2005, points out that “only 24% of the world’s pain relief needs are being met, while 77% of the world’s morphine and codeine are consumed by just 7 developed nations.”

Also, this it has done when opium poppy is legally produced in at least 19 countries, according to alcoholrehab.com: