ROBERT PARRY
Baltimore
Chronicle
Tuesday, December 12, 2006
When Americans ask me what happened to the vaunted U.S. press
corps over the past three decades – in the decline from
its heyday of the Watergate scandal and the Pentagon Papers to
its failure to challenge the Iraq WMD lies or to hold George W.
Bush accountable – I often recall for them the story of
Gary Webb.
Two years ago, on the night of Dec. 9, 2004, investigative reporter
Webb – his career shattered and his life in ruins –
typed out four suicide notes for his family, laid out a certificate
for his cremation, put a note on the door suggesting a call to
911, and removed his father’s handgun from a box.
The 49-year-old Webb, a divorced father of three who was living
alone in a rental house in Sacramento County, California, then
raised the gun and shot himself in the head. The first shot was
not lethal, so he fired once more.
His body was found the next day after movers who were scheduled
to clear out Webb’s rental house, arrived and followed the
instructions from the note on the door.
Though a personal tragedy, the story of Gary Webb’s suicide
has a larger meaning for the American people who find themselves
increasingly sheltered from the truth by government specialists
at cover-ups and by a U.S. news media that has lost its way.
Webb’s death had its roots in his fateful decision eight
years earlier to write a three-part series for the San Jose Mercury
News that challenged a potent conventional wisdom shared by the
elite U.S. news organizations – that one of the most shocking
scandals of the 1980s just couldn’t have been true.
Webb’s “Dark Alliance” series, published in
August 1996, revived the story of how the Reagan administration
in the 1980s had tolerated and protected cocaine smuggling by
its client army of Nicaraguan rebels known as the contras.
Though substantial evidence of these crimes had surfaced in the
mid-1980s (initially in an article that Brian Barger and I wrote
for the Associated Press in December 1985 and later at hearings
conducted by Sen. John Kerry), the major news outlets had bent
to pressure from the Reagan administration and refused to take
the disclosures seriously.
Reflecting the dominant attitude toward Kerry and his work on
the contra-cocaine scandal, Newsweek even dubbed the Massachusetts
senator a “randy conspiracy buff.” [For details, see
Consortiumnews.com’s “Kerry’s Contra-Cocaine
Chapter.”]
Thus, the ugly reality of the contra-cocaine scandal was left
in that netherworld of uncertainty, largely proven with documents
and testimony but never accepted by Official Washington, including
its premier news organizations, such as the New York Times and
the Washington Post.
But Webb’s series thrust the scandal back into prominence
by connecting the contra-cocaine trafficking to the crack epidemic
that had ravaged Los Angeles and other American cities in the
1980s. For that reason, African-American communities were up in
arms as were their elected representatives.
So, the “Dark Alliance” series offered a unique opportunity
for the major news outlets to finally give the contra-cocaine
scandal the attention it deserved.
Media Resistance
But that would have required some painful self-criticism among
Washington journalists whose careers had advanced in part because
they had avoided retaliation from aggressive Reagan supporters
who had made an art of punishing out-of-step reporters for pursuing
controversies like the contra-cocaine scandal.
Also, by the mid-1990s, a powerful right-wing news media had taken
shape and was in no mood to accept the notion that President Ronald
Reagan’s beloved contras were little more than common criminals.
That recognition would have cast a shadow over the Reagan Legacy,
which the Right was busy elevating into mythic status.
There was the turf issue, too. Since Webb’s stories coincided
with the emergence of the Internet as an alternate source for news
and the San Jose Mercury News was at the center of Silicon Valley,
the big newspapers saw a threat to their historic dominance as the
nation’s gatekeepers for what information should be taken
seriously.
Plus, the major media’s focus in the mid-1990s was on scandals
swirling around Bill Clinton, such as some firings at the White
House Travel Office and convoluted questions about his old Whitewater
real-estate deal.
In other words, there was little appetite to revisit scandals
from the Reagan years and there was strong motive to disparage
what Webb had written.
It fell to Rev. Sun Myung Moon’s right-wing Washington
Times to begin the counterattack. The Washington Times turned
to some ex-CIA officials, who had participated in the contra war,
to refute the drug charges.
But – in a pattern that would repeat itself over the next
decade – the Washington Post and other mainstream newspapers
quickly lined up behind the right-wing press. On Oct. 4, 1996, the
Washington Post published a front-page article knocking down Webb’s
story.
The Post’s approach was twofold: first, it presented the contra-cocaine
allegations as old news – “even CIA personnel testified
to Congress they knew that those covert operations involved drug
traffickers,” the Post reported – and second, the Post
minimized the importance of the one contra smuggling channel that
Webb had highlighted – that it had not “played a major
role in the emergence of crack.”
A Post side-bar story dismissed African-Americans as prone to
“conspiracy fears.”
Soon, the New York Times and the Los Angeles Times joined in
the piling on against Gary Webb. The big newspapers made much
of the CIA’s internal reviews in 1987 and 1988 that supposedly
cleared the spy agency of a role in contra-cocaine smuggling.
But the CIA’s decade-old cover-up began to weaken on Oct.
24, 1996, when CIA Inspector General Frederick Hitz conceded before
the Senate Intelligence Committee that the first CIA probe had
lasted only 12 days, the second only three days. He promised a
more thorough review.
Nevertheless, Webb was becoming the target of outright media
ridicule. Influential Post media critic Howard Kurtz mocked Webb
for saying in a book proposal that he would explore the possibility
that the contra war was primarily a business to its participants.
“Oliver Stone, check your voice mail,” Kurtz chortled.
[Washington Post, Oct. 28, 1996]
Webb’s suspicion was not unfounded, however. Indeed, White
House aide Oliver North’s emissary Rob Owen had made the
same point a decade earlier, in a March 17, 1986, message about
the contra leadership.
“Few of the so-called leaders of the movement ... really
care about the boys in the field,” Owen wrote. “THIS
WAR HAS BECOME A BUSINESS TO MANY OF THEM.” [Capitalization
in the original.]
Kurtz and other big-name journalists may have been ignorant of
key facts about the contra war, but that didn’t stop them
from pillorying Gary Webb. The ridicule also had a predictable
effect on the executives of the Mercury News. By early 1997, executive
editor Jerry Ceppos was in retreat. On May 11, 1997, Ceppos published
a front-page column saying the series “fell short of my
standards.” He criticized the stories because they “strongly
implied CIA knowledge” of contra connections to U.S. drug
dealers who were manufacturing crack-cocaine. “We did not
have proof that top CIA officials knew of the relationship,”
Ceppos wrote.
The big newspapers celebrated Ceppos’s retreat as vindication
of their own dismissal of the contra-cocaine stories. Ceppos next
pulled the plug on the Mercury News’ continuing contra-cocaine
investigation and reassigned Webb to a small office in Cupertino,
California, far from his family. Webb resigned the paper in disgrace.
For undercutting Webb and other reporters working on the contra
investigation, Ceppos was lauded by the American Journalism Review
and was given the 1997 national “Ethics in Journalism Award”
by the Society of Professional Journalists. While Ceppos won raves,
Webb watched his career collapse and his marriage break up.
The CIA Probe
Still, Gary Webb had set in motion internal government investigations
that would bring to the surface long-hidden facts about how the
Reagan administration had conducted the contra war.
The CIA’s defensive line against the contra-cocaine allegations
began to break when the spy agency published Volume One of Inspector
General Hitz’s findings on Jan. 29, 1998.
Despite a largely exculpatory press release, Hitz’s Volume
One admitted that not only were many of Webb’s allegations
true but that he actually understated the seriousness of the contra-drug
crimes and the CIA’s knowledge.
Hitz acknowledged that cocaine smugglers played a significant
early role in the Nicaraguan contra movement and that the CIA
intervened to block an image-threatening 1984 federal investigation
into a San Francisco-based drug ring with suspected ties to the
contras, the so-called “Frogman Case.” On May 7, 1998,
another disclosure from the government investigation shook the
CIA’s weakening defenses.
Rep. Maxine Waters, a California Democrat, introduced into the
Congressional Record a Feb. 11, 1982, letter of understanding
between the CIA and the Justice Department.
The letter, which had been sought by CIA Director William Casey,
freed the CIA from legal requirements that it must report drug
smuggling by CIA assets, a provision that covered both the Nicaraguan
contras and Afghan rebels who were fighting a Soviet-supported
regime in Afghanistan and were implicated in heroin trafficking.
The next breach in the defensive wall was a report by the Justice
Department’s inspector general Michael Bromwich. Given the
hostile climate surrounding Webb’s series, Bromwich’s
report opened with criticism of Webb. But, like the CIA’s
Volume One, the contents revealed new details about government
wrongdoing.
According to evidence cited by Bromwich, the Reagan administration
knew almost from the outset of the contra war that cocaine traffickers
permeated the paramilitary operation. The administration also
did next to nothing to expose or stop the crimes.
Bromwich’s report revealed example after example of leads
not followed, corroborated witnesses disparaged, official law-enforcement
investigations sabotaged, and even the CIA facilitating the work
of drug traffickers.
The report showed that the contras and their supporters ran several
parallel drug-smuggling operations, not just the one at the center
of Webb’s series. The report also found that the CIA shared
little of its information about contra drugs with law-enforcement
agencies and on three occasions disrupted cocaine-trafficking
investigations that threatened the contras.
Though depicting a more widespread contra-drug operation than
Webb had understood, the Justice report also provided some important
corroboration about a Nicaraguan drug smuggler, Norwin Meneses,
who was a key figure in Webb’s series.
Bromwich cited U.S. government informants who supplied detailed
information about Meneses’s operation and his financial
assistance to the contras. For instance, Renato Pena, a money-and-drug
courier for Meneses, said that in the early 1980s, the CIA allowed
the contras to fly drugs into the United States, sell them and
keep the proceeds.
Pena, who was the northern California representative for the
CIA-backed FDN contra army, said the drug trafficking was forced
on the contras by the inadequate levels of U.S. government assistance.
The Justice report also disclosed repeated examples of the CIA
and U.S. embassies in Central America discouraging Drug Enforcement
Administration investigations, including one into contra-cocaine
shipments moving through the international airport in El Salvador.
Inspector General Bromwich said secrecy trumped all. “We
have no doubt that the CIA and the U.S. Embassy were not anxious
for the DEA to pursue its investigation at the airport,”
he wrote.
Despite the remarkable admissions in the body of these reports,
the big newspapers showed no inclination to read beyond the press
releases and executive summaries.
Cocaine Crimes & Monica
By fall 1998, Official Washington was obsessed with the Monica
Lewinsky sex scandal, which made it easier to ignore even more
stunning contra-cocaine disclosures in the CIA’s Volume
Two.
In Volume Two, published Oct. 8, 1998, CIA Inspector General Hitz
identified more than 50 contras and contra-related entities implicated
in the drug trade. He also detailed how the Reagan administration
had protected these drug operations and frustrated federal investigations
throughout the 1980s.
According to Volume Two, the CIA knew the criminal nature of its
contra clients from the start of the war against Nicaragua’s
leftist Sandinista government.
The earliest contra force, called ADREN or the 15th of September
Legion, had chosen “to stoop to criminal activities in order
to feed and clothe their cadre,” according to a June 1981
draft CIA field report.
ADREN also employed terrorist methods, including the bombing
of Nicaraguan civilian planes and hijackings, to disrupt the Sandinista
government, the CIA knew. Cocaine smuggling was also in the picture.
According to a September 1981 cable to CIA headquarters, two
ADREN members made the first delivery of drugs to Miami in July
1981, the CIA cable reported.
ADREN's leaders included Enrique Bermudez and other early contras
who would later direct the major contra army, the CIA-organized
FDN. Throughout the war, Bermudez remained the top contra military
commander.
The CIA later corroborated the allegations about ADREN’s
cocaine trafficking, but insisted that Bermudez had opposed the
drug shipments to the United States which went ahead nonetheless.
The truth about Bermudez’s supposed objections to drug
trafficking, however, was less clear. According to Volume One,
Bermudez enlisted Norwin Meneses, a large-scale Nicaraguan cocaine
smuggler, to raise money and buy supplies for the contras.
Volume One had quoted a Meneses associate, another Nicaraguan
trafficker named Danilo Blandon, who told Hitz’s investigators
that he and Meneses flew to Honduras to meet with Bermudez in
1982.
At the time, Meneses’s criminal activities were well known
in the Nicaraguan exile community. But the FDN commander told
the cocaine smugglers that “the ends justify the means”
in raising money for the contras.
After the Bermudez meeting, contra soldiers helped Meneses and
Blandon get past Honduran police who briefly arrested them on
drug-trafficking suspicions. After their release, Blandon and
Meneses traveled on to Bolivia to complete a cocaine transaction.
There were other indications of Bermudez’s drug-smuggling
tolerance. In February 1988, another Nicaraguan exile linked to
the drug trade accused Bermudez of narcotics trafficking, according
to Hitz’s report.
After the contra war ended, Bermudez returned to Managua, where
he was shot to death on Feb. 16, 1991. The murder has never been
solved.
CIA Drug Asset
Along the Southern Front, in Costa Rica, the drug evidence centered
on the forces of Eden Pastora, another leading contra commander.
But Hitz discovered that the U.S. government may have contributed
to the problem.
Hitz revealed that the CIA put an admitted drug operative –
known by his CIA pseudonym “Ivan Gomez” – in
a supervisory position over Pastora. Hitz reported that the CIA
discovered Gomez’s drug history in 1987 when Gomez failed
a security review on drug-trafficking questions.
In internal CIA interviews, Gomez admitted that in March or April
1982, he helped family members who were engaged in drug trafficking
and money laundering. In one case, Gomez said he assisted his
brother and brother-in-law in transporting cash from New York
City to Miami. He admitted that he “knew this act was illegal.”
Later, Gomez expanded on his admission, describing how his family
members had fallen $2 million into debt and had gone to Miami
to run a money-laundering center for drug traffickers. Gomez said
“his brother had many visitors whom [Gomez] assumed to be
in the drug trafficking business.”
Gomez’s brother was arrested on drug charges in June 1982.
Three months later, in September 1982, Gomez started his CIA assignment
in Costa Rica. Years later, convicted drug trafficker Carlos Cabezas
charged that in the early 1980s, Ivan Gomez was the CIA agent
in Costa Rica who was overseeing drug-money donations to the contras.
Gomez “was to make sure the money was given to the right
people [the contras] and nobody was taking ... profit they weren’t
supposed to,” Cabezas stated publicly.
But the CIA sought to discredit Cabezas at the time because he
had trouble identifying Gomez’s picture and put Gomez at
one meeting in early 1982 before Gomez started his CIA assignment.
While the CIA was able to fend off Cabezas’s allegations
by pointing to these discrepancies, Hitz’s report revealed
that the CIA was nevertheless aware of Gomez’s direct role
in drug-money laundering, a fact the agency hid from Sen. Kerry’s
investigation in 1987.
The Bolivian Connection
There also was more about Gomez. In November 1985, the FBI learned
from an informant that Gomez’s two brothers had been large-scale
cocaine importers, with one brother arranging shipments from Bolivia’s
infamous drug kingpin Roberto Suarez.
Suarez already was known as a financier of right-wing causes.
In 1980, with the support of Argentine’s hard-line anti-communist
military regime, Suarez bankrolled a coup in Bolivia that ousted
the elected left-of-center government.
The violent putsch became known as the Cocaine Coup because it
made Bolivia the region's first narco-state. Bolivia’s government-protected
cocaine shipments helped transform the Medellin cartel from a
struggling local operation into a giant corporate-style business
for delivering cocaine to the U.S. market.
Some of those profits allegedly found their way into contra coffers.
Flush with cash in the early 1980s, Suarez invested more than
$30 million in various right-wing paramilitary operations, including
the contra forces in Central America, according to U.S. Senate
testimony by an Argentine intelligence officer, Leonardo Sanchez-Reisse.
In 1987, Sanchez-Reisse said the Suarez drug money was laundered
through front companies in Miami before going to Central America.
There, other Argentine intelligence officers – veterans
of the Bolivian coup – trained the contras.
CIA Inspector General Hitz added another piece to the mystery
of the Bolivian-contra connection. One contra fund-raiser, Jose
Orlando Bolanos, boasted that the Argentine government was supporting
his anti-Sandinista activities, according to a May 1982 cable
to CIA headquarters.
Bolanos made the statement during a meeting with undercover Drug
Enforcement Administration agents in Florida. He even offered
to introduce them to his Bolivian cocaine supplier.
Despite all this suspicious drug activity around Ivan Gomez and
the contras, the CIA insisted that it did not unmask Gomez until
1987, when he failed a security check and confessed his role in
his family’s drug business.
The CIA official who interviewed Gomez concluded that “Gomez
directly participated in illegal drug transactions, concealed
participation in illegal drug transactions, and concealed information
about involvement in illegal drug activity," Hitz wrote.
But senior CIA officials still protected Gomez. They refused
to refer the Gomez case to the Justice Department, citing the
1982 DOJ-CIA agreement that spared the CIA from a legal obligation
to report narcotics crimes by non-employees.
Instead, the CIA eased Gomez, an independent contractor, out
of the agency in February 1988, without alerting law enforcement
or the congressional oversight committees.
When questioned about the case nearly a decade later, one senior
CIA official who had supported the gentle treatment of Gomez had
second thoughts. “It is a striking commentary on me and
everyone that this guy’s involvement in narcotics didn’t
weigh more heavily on me or the system,” the official acknowledged.
The White House Trail
A Medellin drug connection arose in another section of Hitz’s
report, when he revealed evidence suggesting that some contra
trafficking may have been sanctioned by Reagan's National Security
Council.
The protagonist for this part of the contra-cocaine mystery was
Moises Nunez, a Cuban-American who worked for North’s NSC
operation and for two drug-connected seafood importers, Ocean
Hunter in Miami and Frigorificos de Puntarenas in Costa Rica.
Frigorificos de Puntarenas was created in the early 1980s as
a cover for drug-money laundering, according to sworn testimony
by two of the firm’s principals – Carlos Soto and
Medellin cartel accountant Ramon Milian Rodriguez.
Drug allegations were swirling around Moises Nunez by the mid-1980s.
At the AP, his operation was one of the targets of our investigation.
Finally reacting to these suspicions, the CIA questioned Nunez
on March 25, 1987, about his alleged cocaine trafficking. He responded
by pointing the finger at his NSC superiors.
“Nunez revealed that since 1985, he had engaged in a clandestine
relationship with the National Security Council,” Hitz reported.
“Nunez refused to elaborate on the nature of these actions,
but indicated it was difficult to answer questions relating to
his involvement in narcotics trafficking because of the specific
tasks he had performed at the direction of the NSC. Nunez refused
to identify the NSC officials with whom he had been involved.”
After this first round of questioning, CIA headquarters authorized
an additional session, but then senior CIA officials reversed
the decision. There would be no further efforts at “debriefing
Nunez.”
Hitz noted that “the cable [from headquarters] offered
no explanation for the decision” to stop the Nunez interrogation.
But the CIA’s Central American task force chief Alan Fiers
said the Nunez-NSC drug lead was not pursued “because of
the NSC connection and the possibility that this could be somehow
connected to the Private Benefactor program [the contra money
handled by North]. A decision was made not to pursue this matter.”
Joseph Fernandez, who had been the CIA’s station chief
in Costa Rica, later confirmed to congressional Iran-Contra investigators
that Nunez “was involved in a very sensitive operation”
for North’s “Enterprise.” The exact nature of
that NSC-authorized activity has never been divulged.
At the time of the Nunez-NSC drug admissions and his truncated
interrogation, the CIA’s acting director was Robert M. Gates,
who was confirmed by the U.S. Senate on Dec. 6, 2006, to be President
George W. Bush’s new Secretary of Defense.
Miami Vice
The CIA also worked directly with other drug-connected Cuban-Americans
on the contra project, Hitz found.
One of Nunez’s Cuban-American associates, Felipe Vidal,
had a criminal record as a narcotics trafficker in the 1970s.
But the CIA still hired him to serve as a logistics coordinator
for the contras, Hitz reported.
The CIA also learned that Vidal’s drug connections were
not only in the past.
A December 1984 cable to CIA headquarters revealed Vidal’s
ties to Rene Corvo, another Cuban-American suspected of drug trafficking.
Corvo was working with anti-communist Cuban, Frank Castro, who
was viewed as a Medellin cartel representative within the contra
movement.
There were other narcotics links to Vidal. In January 1986, the
DEA in Miami seized 414 pounds of cocaine concealed in a shipment
of yucca that was going from a contra operative in Costa Rica
to Ocean Hunter, the company where Vidal worked.
Despite the evidence, Vidal remained a CIA employee as he collaborated
with Frank Castro’s assistant, Rene Corvo, in raising money
for the contras, according to a CIA memo in June 1986.
By fall 1986, Sen. Kerry had heard enough rumors about Vidal
to demand information about him as part of a congressional inquiry
into contra drugs. But the CIA withheld the derogatory information.
On Oct. 15, 1986, Kerry received a briefing from Alan Fiers, who
didn’t mention Vidal’s drug arrests and conviction
in the 1970s.
But Vidal was not yet in the clear. In 1987, the U.S. attorney
in Miami began investigating Vidal, Ocean Hunter and other contra-connected
entities. This prosecutorial attention worried the CIA. The CIA’s
Latin American division felt it was time for a security review
of Vidal. But on Aug. 5, 1987, the CIA’s security office
blocked the review for fear that the Vidal drug information “could
be exposed during any future litigation.”
As expected, the U.S. Attorney did request documents about “contra-related
activities” by Vidal, Ocean Hunter and 16 other entities.
The CIA advised the prosecutor that “no information had
been found regarding Ocean Hunter,” a statement that was
clearly false. The CIA continued Vidal’s employment as an
adviser to the contra movement until 1990, virtually the end of
the contra war.
Honduras Trafficking
Hitz revealed that drugs also tainted the highest levels of the
Honduran-based FDN, the largest contra army.
Hitz found that Juan Rivas, a contra commander who rose to be
chief of staff, admitted that he had been a cocaine trafficker
in Colombia before the war. The CIA asked Rivas, known as El Quiche,
about his background after the DEA began suspecting that Rivas
might be an escaped convict from a Colombian prison.
In interviews with CIA officers, Rivas acknowledged that he had
been arrested and convicted of packaging and transporting cocaine
for the drug trade in Barranquilla, Colombia. After several months
in prison, Rivas said, he escaped and moved to Central America
where he joined the contras. Defending Rivas, CIA officials insisted
that there was no evidence that Rivas engaged in trafficking while
with the contras. But one CIA cable noted that he lived an expensive
lifestyle, even keeping a $100,000 thoroughbred horse at the contra
camp.
Contra military commander Bermudez later attributed Rivas’s
wealth to his ex-girlfriend’s rich family. But a CIA cable
in March 1989 added that “some in the FDN may have suspected
at the time that the father-in-law was engaged in drug trafficking.”
Still, the CIA moved quickly to protect Rivas from exposure and
possible extradition to Colombia. In February 1989, CIA headquarters
asked that DEA take no action “in view of the serious political
damage to the U.S. Government that could occur should the information
about Rivas become public.”
Rivas was eased out of the contra leadership with an explanation
of poor health. With U.S. government help, he was allowed to resettle
in Miami. Colombia was not informed about his fugitive status.
Drug Flights
Another senior FDN official implicated in the drug trade was its
chief spokesman in Honduras, Arnoldo Jose “Frank”
Arana.
The drug allegations against Arana dated back to 1983 when a federal
narcotics task force put him under criminal investigation because
of plans “to smuggle 100 kilograms of cocaine into the United
States from South America.”
On Jan. 23, 1986, the FBI reported that Arana and his brothers
were involved in a drug-smuggling enterprise, although Arana was
not charged. Arana sought to clear up another set of drug suspicions
in 1989 by visiting the DEA in Honduras with a business associate,
Jose Perez. Arana’s association with Perez, however, only
raised new alarms.
If “Arana is mixed up with the Perez brothers, he is probably
dirty,” the DEA responded.
Through their ownership of an air services company called SETCO,
the Perez brothers were associated with Juan Matta Ballesteros,
a major cocaine kingpin connected to the murder of a DEA agent,
according to reports by the DEA and U.S. Customs.
Hitz reported that someone at the CIA scribbled a note on the
DEA cable about Arana stating: “Arnold Arana ... still active
and working, we [CIA] may have a problem.”
Despite its drug ties to Matta Ballesteros, SETCO emerged as
the principal company for ferrying supplies to the contras in
Honduras.
During congressional Iran-Contra hearings, FDN political leader
Adolfo Calero testified that SETCO was paid from bank accounts
controlled by Oliver North. SETCO also received $185,924 from
the State Department for ferrying supplies to the contras in 1986.
Hitz found other air transport companies used by the contras
implicated in the cocaine trade. Even FDN leaders suspected that
they were shipping supplies to Central America aboard planes that
might be returning with drugs.
Mario Calero, Adolfo Calero’s brother and the chief of
contra logistics, grew so uneasy about one air-freight company
that he notified U.S. law enforcement that the FDN only chartered
the planes for the flights south, not the return flights north.
Hitz found that some drug pilots simply rotated from one sector
of the contra operation to another. Donaldo Frixone, who had a
drug record in the Dominican Republic, was hired by the CIA to
fly contra missions from 1983-85.
In September 1986, however, Frixone was implicated in smuggling
19,000 pounds of marijuana into the United States. In late 1986
or early 1987, he went to work for Vortex, another U.S.-paid contra
supply company linked to the drug trade.
Fig Leaf
By the time that Hitz’s Volume Two was published in fall
1998, the CIA’s defense against Webb’s series had
shrunk to a fig leaf: that the CIA did not conspire with the contras
to raise money through cocaine trafficking.
But Hitz made clear that the contra war took precedence over law
enforcement and that the CIA withheld evidence of contra crimes
from the Justice Department, the Congress and even the CIA’s
own analytical division.
Besides tracing the evidence of contra-drug trafficking through
the decade-long contra war, the inspector general interviewed
senior CIA officers who acknowledged that they were aware of the
contra-drug problem but didn’t want its exposure to undermine
the struggle to overthrow Nicaragua’s leftist Sandinista
government.
According to Hitz, the CIA had “one overriding priority:
to oust the Sandinista government. ... [CIA officers] were determined
that the various difficulties they encountered not be allowed
to prevent effective implementation of the contra program.”
One CIA field officer explained, “The focus was to get
the job done, get the support and win the war.”
Hitz also recounted complaints from CIA analysts that CIA operations
officers handling the contras hid evidence of contra-drug trafficking
even from the CIA’s analysts.
Because of the withheld evidence, the CIA analysts incorrectly
concluded in the mid-1980s that “only a handful of contras
might have been involved in drug trafficking.” That false
assessment was passed on to Congress and the major news organizations
– serving as an important basis for denouncing Gary Webb
and his series in 1996.
Nevertheless, although Hitz’s report was an extraordinary
admission of institutional guilt by the CIA, it passed almost unnoticed
by the big newspapers. [For more details, see Robert Parry’s
Lost History: Contras, Cocaine, the Press & ‘Project Truth’]
On Oct. 10, 1998, two days after Hitz’s report was posted
at the CIA’s Internet site, the New York Times published a
brief article that continued to deride Webb but acknowledged the
contra-drug problem may have been worse than earlier understood.
Several weeks later, the Washington Post weighed in with a similarly
superficial article. The Los Angeles Times never published a story
on the release of the CIA’s Volume Two.
To this day, no editor or reporter who missed the contra-cocaine
story has been punished for his or her negligence. Indeed, some
of them are now top executives at their news organizations. On the
other hand, Gary Webb’s career never recovered.
Unable to find decent-paying work in a profession where his past
awards included a Pulitzer Prize, Webb grew despondent. His marriage
broke up. By December 2004, he found himself forced to move out
of his rented house near Sacramento.
Instead, Webb decided to end his life.
One Last Chance
Webb’s suicide offered the New York Times, the Washington
Post and the Los Angeles Times one more opportunity to set matters
right, to revisit the CIA’s admissions in 1998 and to exact
some accountability on the Reagan-era officials implicated in
protecting the contra crimes.
But all that followed Gary Webb’s death was more trashing
of Gary Webb. The Los Angeles Times ran a graceless obituary that
made no mention of the admissions in the CIA’s Volume Two
and treated Webb like a low-life criminal, rather than a journalist
who took on a tough story and paid a high price.
The Times obituary was republished in other newspapers, including
the Washington Post. No one reading this obit would understand
the profound debt that American history owed to Gary Webb, who
deserved the lion’s share of the credit for forcing the
CIA to make its extraordinary admissions.
Yet, the big media’s consistent mishandling of the contra-cocaine
scandal in the 1980s and 1990s carried another warning that the
nation missed: that the U.S. press corps was no longer capable of
reporting complex crimes of state.
That unaddressed danger returned with disastrous results in late
2002 and early 2003 when George W. Bush sold false stories about
Iraq’s alleged weapons of mass destruction while the major
newspapers acted as cheerleaders and accomplices.
At the time of Webb’s death on Dec. 9, 2004, the full scope
of the Iraq disaster was still not evident, nor was the major
press corps ready to acknowledge that its cowardice in the 1980s
and its fecklessness in the 1990s were the direct antecedents
to its complicity in the illegal invasion of Iraq.
Gary Webb had been a kind of canary in the mine shaft. His career
destruction in the 1990s and his desperate act of suicide in 2004
were warnings about grave dangers that, if left ignored, would
wreak even worse havoc on the United States and the world.
But – on this second anniversary of Webb’s death
– it should be remembered that his great gift to American
history was that he, along with angry African-American citizens,
forced the government to admit some of the worst crimes ever condoned
by any White House: the protection of drug smuggling into the
United States as part of a covert war against a country, Nicaragua,
that represented no real threat to Americans.
It is way past time for that reality – and that gift –
to be acknowledged.