A WAR THAT CAN NEVER BE WON, EVER
The war on drugs is a war that will never be won.
The wildfire about the Alabang Boys is spreading about just yet. Allegations of payoffs, as usual, are surfacing alongside accusations of impropriety and illegality here there and everywhere in the capture and detention of the drug suspects. In the courtroom, the question to be asked would be: where are your proofs, people? Lawyers will rule the day and pockets will be lined with money. The man on the street in his street-smart wisdom by now knows who’s telling lies and half-lies and who are gonna be making huge sums out of this, and then some, but, like it or not, it is wisdom good for idle talk for proof he has none. In time, the heat of the transgression will dissipate and the news will be pushed by more urgent issues of the day. Days will turn to weeks, weeks to months, months to years, and the issue about the Alabang Boys, as most others did, will certainly wear out and vanish– mark this. Some will fall as sacrificial lambs but society’s war on drugs will remain just that— a war that can never be won.
It’s the law of supply and demand, folks, and like the law of gravity it will assert itself without fail after paying the high cost of staying afloat in midair.
Here, on one hand, you have users who wonder aloud what’s wrong about sniffing chemicals to get high and is not wrong with chain-smoking cigarettes or drowning in barrels of alcohol right in the street corner. On the other hand, you have suppliers who wonder aloud what’s wrong about selling cocaine or marijuana to willing buyers that is not wrong about selling insecticide or ropes or cigarette or liquors, for that matter, in the neighborhood store. Consider now: if anything is ever wrong about them, how do they compare with murder, for instance, or arson or burglary or with any crime against humanity? Exactly what crime against the world is it being committed when a person is sniffing shabu, I wonder. Is he killing anyone? is he raping someone? is he to massacre a neighborhood? is he committing a crime as heinous so that he must be purged from the alleys or delivered to death? If truth be told, if we come right down to it, if one is caught with a few grams of illegal drugs and is sent behind bars according to the law, or sent to the gallows or electric chair, loses his freedom or life as the case may be, who is committing a bigger crime? Is it not society who robbed him of his freedom or life– all for what?— a few grams of mind-bending chemicals?
The war on drugs is inspired by noble motives, no question about that, but we wonder if society must indeed be shielded from evil. Is a man holy because he is kept in a room sheltered in comfort from the wickedness of the world? Or is he holy because, exposed to all sorts of sins, he refuses them all? In protecting man from wickedness, are we not in fact creating a bigger monster instead?
Thoughts to ponder about…