CRACKDOWN: THE EMERGING "DRUG EXCEPTION" TO THE BILL OF RIGHTS by Steven Wisotsky 02/15/94 [T]he history of the narcotics legislation in this country "reveals the determination of Congress to turn the screw of the criminal machinery - detection, prosecution and punishment - tighter and tighter." We don't need [a search warrant]. We work in the drug department. Nineteen eighty-seven, the bicentennial of the Constitution, provides an appropriate occasion to examine the condition and direction of constitutional rights in the United States. The framers of the Constitution, animated by the spirit of William Pitt's dictum that "[u]nlimited power is apt to corrupt the minds of those who possess it," carefully parcelled out governmental power and controlled its exercise. After ratification in 1787, this central constitutional preoccupation with limiting governmental power manifested itself in the call for the adoption of a Bill of Rights. Disregarding the enigmatic, perhaps tautological ninth and tenth amendments, the core of the Bill of Rights is a code of criminal procedure designed to ensure fair treatment and make it difficult for the government to secure a criminal conviction. Beyond the realm of criminal prosecutions, the function of constitutional guarantees, especially the first and fourth amendments, is to carve out "zones of privacy" for the exercise of personal autonomy. These rights of self-expression and "privacy and repose" are essential "to secure conditions favorable to the pursuit of happiness." This Essay traces the current retreat from the historic constitutional mission of shielding citizens from governmental overreaching. That retreat results principally from continuing escalations in the paramilitary march of the War on Drugs on our legacy of limited government and natural rights. Since the early 1980s, the prevailing attitude has been that cracking down on drugs is imperative. As a result, the three branches of government have deferred very little to constitutional and nonconstitutional limits on the exercise of governmental power in the domain of drug enforcement. What Laurence Tribe describes as the Constitution's "pivotal, even mythological place in our national consciousness" is rapidly being eroded by a positivist, bureaucratic attitude that we can - must - do whatever is deemed necessary or expedient in waging the War on Drugs. This situation would be bad enough if the War on Drugs worked effectively to control the supply of illegal drugs. It is tragic when the curtailment of "zones of privacy" is accompanied by the tripling of cocaine imports to the United States, the emergence of marijuana as a leading domestic agricultural product, and insistent demands for yet further escalations in the War. The story begins on October 2, 1982, with a Presidential speech denouncing illegal drugs: "The mood towards drugs is changing in this country and the momentum is with us. We're making no excuses for drugs - hard, soft, or otherwise. Drugs are bad and we're going after them." President Reagan continued this hard-line rhetoric in another speech that month, pledging an "unshakable" commitment "to do what is necessary to end the drug menace" and "to cripple the power of the mob in America."* *[The President called for (and got) more of everything: (1) more personnel - 1020 law enforcement agents for the Drug Enforcement Agency (DEA), Federal Bureau of Investigation (FBI), and other agencies, 200 Assistant United States Attorneys, and 340 clerical staff; (2) more aggressive law enforcement - creating 12 (later 13) regional prosecutorial task forces across the nation "to identify, investigate, and prosecute members of high-level drug trafficking enterprises, and to destroy the operations of those organizations;" (3) more money - $127.5 million in additional funding and a substantial reallocation of the existing $702.8 million budget from prevention, treatment, and research programs to law enforcement programs; (4) more prison bed space - the addition of 1260 beds at 11 federal prisons to accommodate the increase in drug offenders to be incarcerated; (5) more stringent laws - a "legislative offensive designed to win approval of reforms" with respect to bail, sentencing, criminal forfeiture, and the exclusionary rule; (6) better interagency coordination - bringing together all federal law enforcement agencies in "a comprehensive attack on drug trafficking and organized crime" under a Cabinet-level committee chaired by the Attorney General; and (7) improved federal-state coordination, including federal assistance to state agencies by training their agents.] Legal scholars rarely pay much attention to Presidential rhetoric in analyzing legal developments. But, in this situation, it would be a serious mistake to disregard the tough talk and political posturing. Attitude, above all else, drives the counterrevolution in criminal law and procedure. The idea that the end of "getting" drug traffickers justifies just about any means seems an idea whose time has come. One federal judge, in a 1977 opinion, adumbrated the evolving jurisprudence of hostility in condemning drug dealers as "merchants of misery, destruction and death" whose greed has wrought "hideous evil" and brought "unimaginable sorrow" upon the nation. He concluded his opinion by denouncing drug crimes as "unforgivable." This attitude propels the trend toward creating a drug "exception" to the law: if the conduct is literally unforgivable, then draconian measures are justified. In this Essay, I will draw a somewhat impressionistic sketch of the emerging "drug exception" to the Bill of Rights and other protections of individual liberties. Not only does the crackdown attitude penetrate every aspect of the contemporary federal criminal justice system - legislation, adjudication, investigation, and prosecution - it also reaches into lives of ordinary people not accused of crime. Ideas, after all, have power. I. THE SOCIAL CONTEXT: CRACKDOWN, FAILURE, AND FRUSTRATION To understand the power of the social forces at work in the War on Drugs, it is critical to recognize that President Reagan (and later the First Lady) did not try to impose a preachment from above upon an indifferent public. Rather, they harnessed a preexisting momentum for a crackdown on drugs. At the time of his 1982 declaration of War on Drugs, some 3000 parents' groups had already organized nationwide under the umbrella of the National Federation of Parents for Drug Free Youth. Within the government, the pressures for Presidential action had been building for some time. The Attorney General's Task Force on Violent Crime had recommended "an unequivocal commitment to combating international and domestic drug traffic."* In the Senate, twenty-eight Senators had banded together in the Drug Enforcement Caucus to "establish drug enforcement as a Senate priority." Finally, the House Select Committee on Narcotics Abuse and Control had urged the President to "declare war on drugs." The President did just that. *[The call for the augmentation of drug enforcement resources was not unprecedented. Under the Nixon Administration, a buildup in the size and scope of the federal drug enforcement bureaucracy also occurred. At the end of June 1968, the Bureau of Narcotics and Dangerous Drugs had 615 agents. By June 1970, this number had increased to over 900. Legislation had also authorized the addition of at least 300 more agents during 1971.] Energized by this hardening attitude towards illegal drugs, the Administration acted aggressively, mobilizing an impressive array of federal bureaucracies and resources in a coordinated - although futile - attack on the supply of illegal drugs, principally cocaine, marijuana, and heroin. The Administration hired hundreds of drug agents and cut through bureaucratic rivalries like no Administration before it. It acted to streamline operations and force more cooperation among enforcement agencies. It placed the FBI in charge of the Drug Enforcement Administration (DEA) and gave it major drug enforcement responsibility for the first time in history. And, as the centerpiece of its prosecutorial strategy, it fielded a network of Organized Crime Drug Enforcement Task Forces in thirteen "core" cities across the nation. To stop drugs from entering the country, the Administration attempted to erect a contemporary antidrug version of the Maginot Line with the National Narcotics Border Interdiction System (NNBIS), a network designed to coordinate surveillance and interdiction efforts along the entire coastline of the United States. As part of that initiative, NNBIS floated radar balloons in the skies over Miami, the Florida Keys, and even the Bahamas to protect the nation's perimeter against drug incursions. The CIA joined the war effort by supplying intelligence about foreign drug sources, and NASA assisted with satellite-based information about coca and marijuana crops under cultivation. The Administration also initiated financial investigations, aided by computerized data banks and staffed by Treasury agents specially trained to trace money laundering operations. The State Department pressured foreign governments to eradicate illegal coca and marijuana plants and financed pilot programs to provide peasant farmers with alternative cash crops. Mutual assistance treaties to expose "dirty" money secreted in tax haven nations and to extradite defendants accused of drug conspiracies against the laws of the United States were concluded. The government also literally militarized what had previously been only a rhetorical war by deploying the armed forces of the United States in drug enforcement operations. The Department of Defense provided pursuit planes, helicopters, and other equipment to civilian enforcement agencies, while Navy E-2C "Hawkeye" radar planes patrolled the coastal skies in search of smuggling aircraft and ships. The Coast Guard, receiving new cutters and more personnel, intensified its customary task of interdicting drug-carrying vessels at sea. Finally, for the first time in American history, Navy vessels, including a nuclear-powered aircraft carrier, interdicted - and in one case fired upon - drug smuggling ships in international waters. On a purely technical level, the Administration could rightly claim success in focusing the resources of the federal government in an historically large and single-minded attack on the drug supply. What were the results of this extraordinary enforcement program? It set new records in every category of measurement - drug seizures, investigations, indictments, arrests, convictions, and asset forfeitures. Yet, despite the Administration's accumulation of impressive statistics, the black market in drugs, especially cocaine, has grown to record size. This rapid market growth occurred in the face of President Reagan's doubling and redoubling of the federal antidrug enforcement budget from $645 million in fiscal year 1981 to over $4 billion in fiscal year 1987.* This budgetary expansion seems all the more remarkable when compared to the equivalent budget for fiscal year 1969 of $73.5 million. The social "return" on the extra billions spent during that time has been a drug abuse problem of historic magnitude, accompanied by a drug trafficking parasite of international dimensions. A web of black market pathologies, including cocaine cowboy killings, corruption of public officials, and subversive "narcoterrorist" alliances between Latin American guerrillas and drug traffickers, feed on the mega-billions circulating in the drug underworld. *[Earlier this year (1987), the Office of Technology Assessment concluded: Despite a doubling of Federal expenditures on interdiction over the past five years, the quantity of drugs smuggled into the United States is greater than ever .... There is no clear correlation between the level of expenditures or effort devoted to interdiction and the long-term availability of illegally imported drugs in the domestic market.] Of course, all of this was and is utterly predictable. The attack on the drug supply through an aggressive program of enforcement at each step - interdiction, arrest, prosecution, and punishment - results in what Professor Herbert Packer has called a "crime tariff." The crime tariff is what the seller must charge the buyer in order to monetize the risk he takes in breaking the law. The criminal law thereby maintains hyperinflated prices for illegal drugs in the black market. For example, $2-$3 gram of pure pharmaceutical cocaine becomes a $80-$100 gram of 35 percent street cocaine. This type of law enforcement succeeds to some unknown extent in making drugs less available - to the extent that demand is elastic or sensitive to price. But it also pumps vast sums of money into the black market, as much as $100 billion per year. The flow of these illegal billions through the underground economy generates pernicious pathologies that harm the security and well-being of the nation. Confronted by these threatening developments, both the public and the politicians predictably react in fear and anger. The specter of uncontrolled and uncontrollable drug abuse and black marketeering leads to frustrated reaction against the drug trade. The zeal to "turn the screw" on the "merchants of misery, destruction and death" leads directly to the adoption of stringent, punitive measures that aggrandize governmental powers at the expense of individual liberties. This reactive, almost reflexive growth of governmental power and the correlative squelching of personal liberty are the framework for the next sections of this Essay. It focuses on two closely related if not inseparable phenomena: (1) the government's sustained attack, motivated by the perceived imperatives of drug enforcement, on traditional protections afforded to criminal defendants under the Bill of Rights, and (2) the gradual but perceptible rise of "Big Brotherism" against the public at large in the form of investigative detentions, eavesdropping, surveillance, monitoring, and other intrusive enforcement methods. II. THE ASSAULT ON JUSTICE A. THE LEGISLATIVE OFFENSIVE In his original declaration of War on Drugs, President Reagan announced a "legislative offensive designed to win approval of reforms" with respect to bail, sentencing, criminal forfeiture, and the exclusionary rule. He succeeded in almost every respect. The Administration's march toward a tougher set of investigative and prosecutorial powers drew much of its energy from the widespread belief that the criminal justice system was treating drug traffickers with excessive leniency. For example, in 1981 the United States Attorney for the Southern District of Florida (Miami) articulated that perception in a written statement to the Attorney General: Currently, a first time offender associated with multi- ton quantities of marihuana, kilogram quantities of cocaine or tens of thousands of methaqualone tablets expects: not to be arrested; if arrested, to be immediately set free on bail pending trial; if tried to have representation by the best lawyers money can buy; if convicted, to remain free on bail pending appeals, all the way to the Supreme Court; if eventually sentenced, to receive a sentence of two, to three years and to serve less than 10 months in "a clean well-lighted place" (perhaps even receive probation); and, when released after a few months in prison, to have millions of dollars in narcotics profits waiting. In short, the system was too soft in every respect. What was needed, according to this view, was a toughening of all phases of the criminal justice system, from investigation and pretrial procedure to sentencing and the appellate stages of a prosecution. The goal of the crackdown was to make the system more effective in catching drug violators, to facilitate their conviction once indicted, and to punish them more severely upon conviction. According to this theory, publicity about the heightened certainty of conviction and the greater severity of punishment would deter others from trafficking in drugs. The drug supply would diminish and drug abuse would therefore decline. In other words, extending, expanding, and intensifying the existing system of enforcement would correct the failures of the past, and the drug control system would finally begin to work effectively. However simple-minded the analysis, it seemed to coincide with common sense and soon prevailed. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, representatives of the DEA, Customs, and other enforcement agencies came before congressional committees and repeated the theme. Drug traffickers had a free hand because enforcement agencies were underfunded, understaffed, and underequipped. Not only that, the agencies were hampered by excessively restrictive laws that tied their hands in the fight against drug violators. Representative Hutto, for example, complained that federal law conferred too many protections upon potential defendants: "[I]n the war on narcotics, we have met the enemy, and he is the U.S. Code. I have never seen such a maze of laws and hangups . . . . " Legal obstacles to efficient investigative action needed to be removed. The entire Congress apparently shared that perception, becoming a prolific source of antidrug initiatives. In just the first year of the Ninety-seventh Congress, over one hundred bills proposing to "reform" some aspect of the criminal justice system were filed; more than three-fourths specifically proposed harsher treatment for drug offenses or drug offenders. Most of the bills concentrated on restricting bail for accused drug offenders, followed in frequency by proposals for mandatory or more severe sentences for convicted drug traffickers. To facilitate conviction of those arrested, two bills proposed to eliminate the exclusionary rule. Two others proposed to dilute the rule by adopting a "good faith exception" to the fourth amendment's warrant requirement, a step partially taken in a drug case by the Fifth Circuit Court of Appeals and later by the United States Supreme Court. Other proposals sought to toughen the laws on asset forfeiture and the reporting requirements of the Currency and Foreign Transactions Reporting Act. Congress actually succeeded in curtailing restrictions on the use of the military forces in drug interdiction under the Posse Comitatus Act and loosened the Tax Reform Act of 1976 to facilitate disclosure of IRS file information to other enforcement agencies. Apart from the sheer number of the proposed laws, this legislative activity was noteworthy for its manifestation of a "get-tough, do-whatever-is-necessary" attitude. In its most reasonable form, legislators voiced the matter as one of creating disincentives, of raising the ante. They would make the drug business riskier and therefore less attractive "by significantly increasing the risk of conviction and certainty of long prison sentences." The crackdown showed its most pugnacious mentality in the proposed Arctic Penitentiary Act, which proposed creating "an American Gulag" of remote prison camps for drug offenders. So intense was the legislative activity that one could fairly say that drug enforcement became the top priority, indeed the organizing focus, of the entire federal criminal justice system. And, in its zeal to shore up the sagging system, Congress did not hesitate to attack the "enemy." If the Bill of Rights, tradition, or statutory protections stood in the way of the war effort, then they had to go. After the initial flurry of activity in the 1981-1983 period, the legislative offensive produced an even more aggressive and effective assault on justice in the passage of the Comprehensive Crime Control Act of 1984 (CCC Act). This Act marked an historic rollback of the rights of those accused of crime. The accused first feels the impact of the Act soon after arrest on drug charges when he applies for pretrial release. The courts had previously "upped the ante" in this area by restricting the use of cash bonds through Nebbia hearings. Devised in response to cases in which defendants had posted large cash bonds and then absconded, Nebbia permitted the court to interrogate a defendant about the source of his bail money and to reject drug money or any cash bond when it did not provide adequate assurance that a defendant would appear for trial. Nevertheless, the traditional legal test for release on bond remained intact: whether a released defendant would appear for trial. The CCC Act broke with tradition and precedent in authorizing pretrial detention. This law dispenses with pretrial release altogether for most charges under the Controlled Substances Act if the court finds at a hearing "clear and convincing" evidence that no conditions of a defendant's release would reasonably ensure the safety of any other person or of the community. But the CCC Act also creates a rebuttal presumption of a defendant's dangerousness upon a judicial finding of "probable cause to believe that the person committed an offense . . . [under] the Controlled Substances Act" punishable by ten years or more in prison. Since an indictment is predicated upon probable cause, it seems that the judicial finding of probable cause could be pro forma for defendants arrested after indictment. Thus, any ten-year drug charge alone can justify pretrial detention. But there is no "rational connection between the fact proved and the ultimate fact presumed," that is, between a finding of probable cause to believe a defendant has committed a ten-year drug felony and the presumption that detention is necessary to ensure the safety of others. The potency of the preventive detention provision in the CCC Act showed up in its early track record: between October 12, 1984, and May 10, 1985, the Department of Justice won 704 motions for pretrial detention and lost only 185. More than pretrial liberty is lost in such cases; a defendant's statistical chances of securing an acquittal suffer greatly from pretrial detention. At this writing, constitutional challenges to the law have produced conflicting rulings by several circuit courts of appeal. The Second Circuit has twice declared part of the statute unconstitutional, while other circuits have rejected constitutional attacks. The Second Circuit's ruling in _United States v. Salerno_ was reversed by the Supreme Court, although it did not involve the dubious statutory question discussed above. However, when the Supreme Court finally rules on the validity of the presumption, the Act's authorization of pretrial detention marks an historic shift in attitude about the rights of those accused of crime. Under the CCC Act, greater restrictions now apply to post-conviction bail as well. Formerly, courts granted bail pending appeal liberally unless the government could show that a defendant was likely to flee or posed a danger to others. The CCC Act shifts the burden on this issue to the defendant. It also requires that a convicted defendant be detained unless his appeal "raises a substantial question of law or fact likely to result in reversal or an order for a new trial."* *[The CCC Act also "ups the ante" in sentencing. First, it raises the maximum term of imprisonment for many drug offenses, including one kilo or more of cocaine, to 20 years and increases the maximum fine tenfold to $250,000. Second, it provides a powerful stick for the collection of fines through devices such as imprisonment for willful to pay the fine. Third, it provides for an alternative fine of twice the gross gain of the drug deal or other crime. Fourth, it adds forfeiture, formerly limited to CCE and RICO offenses, as a penalty for all felony violations of the Controlled Substances Act. Upon conviction (in addition to fines), the government acquires title to any "property used or intended to be used" to facilitate commission of a drug violation and any money or property, including land, that was obtained directly or indirectly through such violation. Money or property realized by forfeitures goes to a law enforcement fund for use in paying informers, rewarding state and local enforcement agencies, and a variety of other purposes.] One of the most serious incursions into the rights of criminal defendants arises from the Department of Justice's tactic of using the criminal forfeiture provisions of the CCC Act against fees paid to defense counsel. When so used, prosecutors claim that the fee received by counsel represents derivative contraband, in other words, the proceeds of a controlled substances violation. Upon conviction of the client, the government asks the court to order the fee forfeited to the United States under the relation-back doctrine that legal ownership of property derived from unlawful activity vests in the government at the time of the criminal act. Since very few cases result in complete acquittal of defendants charged in multicount drug conspiracy indictments, defense counsel confront a thorny problem. Preparation and trial of a major drug conspiracy case typically take months of concentrated work. Even if one agrees that defense lawyers have come to expect excessive fees in drug cases, the prospect of no fee at all is an extreme curative. Even more extreme action results from pretrial orders prohibiting a defendant from transfering funds to retain counsel in the first instance. Forfeiture of fees seriously cranks the balance wheel of justice in the government's favor. It hurts defendants by discouraging experienced attorneys from working on such cases, and by diverting energy of counsel from defense of the substantive charge to defense of the fee.* In fact, potential for forfeiture effectively converts the fee arrangement to a contingent fee, which, ironically, the Code of Professional Responsibility prohibits in criminal cases. *[While it would be easy to overdramatize the impact of the assault on defense counsel, it has succeeded in driving out one of Miami's most highly regarded drug defense lawyers, "Diamond" Joel Hirschhorn. In announcing his retirement from drug cases, Mr. Hirschhorn cited both the stigma of drug defense and the threat to fees: "It's just not worth the aggravation to represent major drug dealers. The government comes after your fees. It's not worth it .... I'm doing tax fraud. And I like to do one murder case a year. It's OK to represent a murderer. Everyone approves of that."] While the Department of Justice has issued guidelines to constrain prosecutorial discretion, and some courts have declared fee forfeiture unconstitutional, the validity of attorney's fee forfeitures under the right to counsel clause of the sixth amendment remains unresolved. Whatever the final resolution of the issue, the attempt to apply forfeiture to attorneys' fees is most noteworthy for what it reveals about the attitude of the forces of justice in the War on Drugs. Consider, for example, the rather cavalier position toward the sixth amendment's guarantee of the right to assistance of counsel taken by two representatives of the Department of Justice: If all of the defendant's ill-gotten gains are subject to forfeiture, then any fees paid from illegal sources are appropriately included. Under the Constitution, defendants are entitled to legal advice, not to high priced advice. Moreover, such advice cannot be paid for by ill-gotten gains. The superficial logic of this argument ignores fundamental questions. How can the law justify isolating those accused of drug offenses from all other defendants for this special treatment? Does not the "ill-gotten gains" logic apply with equal force to tax evasion, bank robbery, or almost any other offense? If taken to the full extent of its logic, the government's rationale would mean that no criminal defendant could retain private counsel without first proving that he has an "untainted" source of money to pay the fee. Forfeiture of defense fees stacks the deck against the defense by effectively requiring that drug defendants be represented by public defenders with limited resources and excessive case loads. What, after all, is the point of such a rule except to tilt the scales of justice by weakening an accused's ability to defend himself? The hostility reflected in the attempt to forfeit attorney's fees in drug cases shows up in other assaults on the attorney-client relationship, such as the government's frequent use of subpoenas against defendants' lawyers to obtain information and records harmful to their clients. This scenario occurs in a variety of ways, all involving the government's efforts to convert defense lawyers into sources of information against their own clients. The process frequently starts with a grand jury subpoena compelling defense counsel to disclose the amount, source, and method of payment of the fee received, information that the courts generally deem not protected by the confidentiality of the attorney-client privilege. Thus, attorneys must testify or turn over the subpoenaed records to avoid contempt sanctions. A defendant's knowledge that his lawyer is giving potentially incriminating testimony to a grand jury certainly casts a pall over the attorney-client relationship and may ultimately require the lawyer to disqualify himself as defense counsel. If new counsel is retained, however, the grand jury could begin the process all over again _ad infinitum_. In some cases the government has exercised its power to pit the defense lawyer even more directly against his client as a witness. For example, under the Continuing Criminal Enterprise Act, the government must prove that the defendant derived "substantial income" from a series of drug violations. By subpoenaing defense counsel to testify as to the amount of his retainer, the government may attempt to prove the element of income. The lawyer thus is converted into a witness against his own client, who will often become a former client, since withdrawal is required when the lawyer's "testimony is or may be prejudicial to his client." One of the nation's leading criminal defense lawyers calls this "reprehensible" and "disastrous": When the lawyer is a witness called by the prosecution, there is actual prejudice to the client. Even a mere production of the attorney's records is counter to the defendant's interest. . . . In either circumstance, whether the attorney is called as a witness or whether the records are subpoenaed, the attorney becomes a witness for the prosecution or a witness for the defense. Because the attorney's testimony is directed to a material element of the offense, it seems that withdrawal is mandated. The next step is painfully obvious. There appears to be an unlimited discretion within the government to select the defendant's counsel. For these reasons, the CCC Act is perceived by many defense lawyers as "one of the most threatening steps yet taken by Court or Congress against traditional attorney-client relationships."* Yet things can always get worse, and worsen they did in the most recent escalation of the War on Drugs embodied in the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986. *[Congress drove yet another wedge between lawyer and client in a provision of the Deficit Reduction Act of 1984. It requires that attorney's fees of more than $10,000 in cash must be reported to the IRS on Form 8300 along with the name, address, and tax number of the person who paid the fee. The very filing of the form puts the client, who may not have been charged with any crime, at risk of investigation.] The Anti-Drug Abuse Act further impairs the attorney-client relationship by creating new offenses of (1) money laundering and (2) knowingly engaging in monetary transactions exceeding $10,000 in property derived from "specified unlawful activity." Because of its _mens rea_ requirement, the first of these provisions arguably does not create the chilling effect on the attorney-client relationship that led the American Bar Association to pass a resolution expressing its concern about the latter. Quite apart from its impact on the attorney-client relationship, the Anti-Drug Abuse Act of 1986 epitomizes the spirit of crackdown that forms the theme of this Essay. In the summer of 1986, Washington was in "a frenzy over drugs" with Democrats and Republicans racing to "outperform" one another. In this environment, the House of Representatives put together a hastily drafted, multibillion dollar antidrug bill that contained extreme measures, including a subsequently deleted death penalty for certain drug-related deaths. The bill that finally became law casts a wide net in its fifteen titles. Among other things, it imposes some of the severest penalties in the United States Code, including mandatory minimum prison sentences. For example, the Act provides minimum penalties of five and ten years in prison depending upon drug and weight involved: possession with intent to distribute five kilograms of cocaine commands a minimum penalty of ten years to life. Even five grams of cocaine base requires not less than five years, and up to a maximum of forty years in prison. In both cases, the range rises to a minimum of twenty years to life if death or serious bodily injury results from the use of such substances. These penalties apply to "first time drug offenders;" a defendant with a prior state or federal drug conviction receives a mandatory life term under these circumstances. A life term is also mandatory for an individual defendant convicted of a continuing criminal enterprise if specific weight thresholds are crossed or if gross receipts exceed from the proscribed activities $4 million within one year. These are very severe penalties, more stringent in fact than sentences typically meted out to first-time robbers or rapists. The combination of very long maximum terms of imprisonment and mandatory minimum terms arguably takes the government to the edge of its power, trenching upon the limits imposed by the cruel and unusual punishment clause of the eighth amendment. In _Solem v. Helm_, the United States Supreme Court stated that the "principle that a punishment should be proportionate to the crime is deeply rooted and frequently repeated in common-law jurisprudence."* It explicitly rejected "the State's assertion that the general principle of proportionality does not apply to felony prison sentences." The Court found "meritless" the dictum in _Rummell v. Estelle_ that "'the length of sentence imposed is purely a matter of legislative prerogative.'"+ *[Helm had been convicted of six nonviolent felonies before 1979, when he was convicted of uttering a "no account" check for $100 and was punished under the South Dakota's recidivist statute, sentenced to life in prison. By statute, a life sentence carried no possibility of parole, although executive clemency remained a possibility. The United States Supreme Court struck down Helm's sentence on eighth amendment grounds.] +[In _Rummell_, the Court held that a mandatory life sentence for three petty theft offenses imposed pursuant to a Texas recidivist statute did not violate the eighth amendment.] The _Helm_ Court identified three "objective factors" to be considered by courts in determining whether a particular sentence is disproportionately severe: (1) the gravity of the offense and the harshness of the penalty, (2) the sentence imposed on other criminals in the same jurisdiction, and (3) the sentences imposed for commission of the same crime in other jurisdictions. At a bare minimum, _Helm_ establishes that Congress is not free to impose whatever penalty it chooses on drug offenders. The imposition of prison terms is limited by a legal principle of proportionality. Determining when that line has been crossed is an exceedingly subtle task, and this Essay will not engage in the extended analysis required by the _Helm_ criteria. They call out for a Brandeis brief on the actual harms resulting from the various drugs in relation to the harms caused by other crimes. Perhaps this issue of ultra-severe penalties will reach the Supreme Court, along with the related issue of the validity of mandatory minimum sentencing of first offenders, but the prospects for judicial relief from legislative overreaching are not good. The "turn the screw" quotation that begins this Essay comes from a case in which the Court upheld consecutive sentences of imprisonment for a single agreement to import marijuana on the grounds that it violated two separate conspiracy statutes. The Court held that Congress intended to authorize "double" punishment, "in effect determin[ing] that a conspiracy to import drugs and to distribute them is twice as serious as a conspiracy to do either object singly." The Court also rejected the petitioner's double jeopardy clause argument on the rather expansive ground that "the question of what punishments are constitutionally permissible is not different from the question of what punishments the Legislative Branch intended ... to be imposed. Where Congress intended to impose multiple punishments, imposition of such sentences does not violate the Constitution." Although three Justices distanced themselves from that assertion in a concurring opinion, there were no dissents. The decision not only reflects the crackdown attitude of the courts; it also reflects the positivist idea that laws are valid simply because they are enacted. Disproportionate and mandatory sentencing statutes will not face a serious challenge if they are reviewed from this perspective. One last thing should be said about these various offensives against defendants in drug cases. When viewed in isolation, each measure may arguably be reasonable. But their cumulative impact appears calculated to render an accused drug offender as helpless as possible to mount a successful defense and to subject him to stringent punishment following the almost inevitable conviction. The prevailing attitude seems to be that drug defendants deserve the worst treatment meted out by the system, and that indictments should be easy to obtain and to prove. More stringent substantive laws, less effective procedural protections - in short, more governmental power and less individual liberty - are seen as the prescription for the ills of drug abuse and drug trafficking. Actions carried out under this paradigm dishonor the tradition of limited government and, in the case of pretrial detention and fee forfeiture, nibble away at the spirit of "the bedrock, axiomatic and elementary principle" embodied in the presumption of innocence. The new regime pays little deference to tradition or principle, justifying departures from constitutional protections on the grounds of a drug "crisis." In this single-minded dedication to "getting" drug violators, the end has come to justify most any means. Worse, since the overall effect on the drug supply is de minimis, the only real point of these heavy-handed methods is their symbolic statement - in response to societal anger about drugs, the government reserves its nastiest procedures, its most potent legal weapons, for drug cases. Is this not a form of scapegoating? Do not drug dealers in the 1980s occupy a political-legal status similar to that of Communists or "subversives" in the 1950s?* *[Of course, obvious differences separate drug dealers from those who merely advocate an unpopular ideology. The analogy, however, makes the point that drug dealers today have become as much a magnet for the fears and suspicions of the public as the "subversives" of the McCarthy era. See E. EPSTEIN, AGENCY OF FEAR (1979) (arguing that President Nixon's War on Drugs substituted drugs for subversives during 1971 to exploit public fears for political ends).] B. THE JUDICIAL ROLLBACK In the past three or four decades, those whose rights were damaged by legislative or prosecutorial excesses could generally turn to the federal courts for protection. But the War on Drugs steamroller has flattened judicial barriers as well. In case after case, the courts have whittled away vital protections for the accused. This process has reached its apogee in the realm of search and seizure. The individual's right to be free from unlawful searches and seizures conflicts directly with the inherent intrusiveness of drug enforcement techniques such as wiretaps and the use of informants and undercover agents. Historically, drug enforcement has precipitated a tug-of-war between the government's search and seizure powers and the privacy rights of individuals. This conflict has shaped the contours of contemporary fourth amendment jurisprudence in a decisive way. In recent years especially, the courts have almost always upheld the government. The Supreme Court's 1982-1983 term was marked by "the overwhelming importance of the Fourth Amendment in drug cases." In almost all of these cases, even when particular convictions were reversed, the Supreme Court put its imprimatur on the enforcement techniques of the drug agencies, upholding the power of drug agents to use the airport drug courier profile to stop, detain, and question citizens without probable cause;* to subject a traveller's luggage to a sniffing examination by drug-detector dogs without probable cause; to make warrantless searches of automobiles and closed containers therein; to conduct surveillance of suspects by placing transmitters or beepers in containers in vehicles; to search at will ships in inland waterways; and to obtain a search warrant based on an undisclosed informant's tip. *[Drug courier profiles vary from airport to airport, but all are based on an informal compilation of common traits associated with drug smugglers; they have been criticized for allowing impermissible intrusions on fourth amendment rights based solely on an agent's "hunch."] The Supreme Court adopted a "good faith exception" to the exclusionary rule for searches made pursuant to a warrant issued without probable cause and authorized warrantless searches of "open fields" and barns adjacent to a residence. The Court significantly enlarged the powers of police to stop, question, and detain drivers of vehicles on the highways on suspicion less than probable cause or with no suspicion at all at fixed checkpoints or roadblocks. The Court also validated warrantless aerial surveillance over private property, the warrantless search of a motor home occupied as a residence, and the warrantless search of the purse of a public school student. In the realm of search and seizure, the government won almost every test case in the Supreme Court. The government also made very substantial inroads in the Fifth and Eleventh Circuit Courts of Appeals, probably the nation's leading "drug circuits" as a result of their southern coastal locations. To question whether the government deserved in law to win these cases misses the central point: such issues, presented within the relatively narrow scope of a criminal prosecution, are always debatable. Case-by-case analysis obscures the larger social context: the government's relentless drive against the drug supply generates the pressures to test and expand its enforcement powers. Moreover, when the Supreme Court "balances" the collective interest in "effective" law enforcement against the individual's interest in due process and personal liberty, the right of privacy must generally lose out to the weightier social interest, especially if there is a shared perception of a drug "epidemic."* The Court has made the point explicitly: "The public has a compelling interest in detecting those who would traffic in deadly drugs for personal profit." The result of the War on Drugs is thus a gradual, but inexorable, expansion of enforcement powers at the expense of personal freedoms. The United States is measurably a less free society than it was five or six years ago. *["We must balance the nature and quality of the intrusion on the individual's Fourth Amendment interests against the importance of the governmental interest alleged to justify the intrusion .... Respondent suggests that, absent some special law enforcement interest such as officer safety, a generalized interest in law enforcement cannot justify an intrusion on an individual's Fourth Amendment interests in the absence of probable cause. Our prior cases, however, do not support this proposition."] During this time, defense lawyers have begun to joke nervously about the "drug exception to the fourth amendment." Apparently, their wry perception has some basis in reality, for the Supreme Court itself, in one of its few recent rulings against the government in a drug case, was moved to admit that "[t]hose suspected of drug offenses are no less entitled to [fourth amendment] protection than those suspected of nondrug offenses." Despite this assertion by the Court, commentators have captured the essence of the general trend in articles such as _The Incredible Shrinking Fourth Amendment_ and _Another Victim of Illegal Narcotics: The Fourth Amendment_. Even within Congress there has been some concern. Peter Rodino, Chairman of the House Judiciary Committee, expressed his anger at the antidrug bill passed by the house on September 10, 1986: "We have been fighting the war on drugs, but now it seems to me the attack is on the Constitution of the United States." C. BEYOND THE LAW Is it fair to characterize these antidrug actions by the government as desperate or mean-spirited trashing of the Constitution? In a strictly positivist sense, of course, the new laws create their own legitimacy. But when law becomes purely instrumental, when it loses its mooring in precepts of fairness and fundamental rights, then the notion of the rule of law degenerates into whatever majoritarian oppression commands a consensus at a given moment in history. Were not the Nuremberg Codes of 1933 a parliamentary product? Does not South Africa today obey its own laws in matters of race? Legitimacy does not follow automatically from legal existence alone. On the contrary, the American political-constitutional tradition draws heavily upon the "self evident" truth that all men are created equal and are endowed by their Creator with "inalienable rights," no matter what the law is. An act of the legislature "contrary to the great first principles of the social compact cannot be considered a rightful exercise of legislative authority." By contrast, the War on Drugs has taken us a long way toward repudiating this Enlightenment-based Jeffersonian-transmitted natural rights tradition. In doing so, the War on Drugs has set in motion forces that society may someday regret, forces pointing toward an "Endarkenment" in legal thought and practice. Already, anecdotal evidence suggests that the disrespectful attitude toward individual rights fostered by the War on Drugs - the idea of a "drug exception" to the criminal law - has seeped into the public consciousness: 3 FAKE POLICE OFFICERS RANSACK HOME At about 8 a.m. Friday, a 27-year old woman thought she noticed a car following her as she drove home on Bird Road after dropping her two children off at a junior high school on Coral Way. "She decided to pull off the road to see if the car would pass her," [Detective] McDermott said. The car pulled up behind her and three casually dressed men got out. They brandished handguns and identified themselves as police. "They got into her car with her," McDermott said. "She said they flashed some kind of badge...." The men drove the woman to her house, where they handcuffed her and her husband. "They just said they were police and they were there to search the place and they proceeded to handcuff the couple and ransack the place," McDermott said. "Her husband asked them if they had a search warrant and they said, 'We don't need one, we work in the drug department.'" The idea that those enforcing the drug laws need not abide by the ordinary rules of the game leads easily to abusive enforcement practices. Of course, abusive enforcement, like beauty, is often in the eye of the beholder. One's view of the importance of the drug enforcement enterprise tends to color one's judgement about the legitimacy of enforcement tools. But when the Miami Herald, one of the principal advocates of the War on Drugs, editorializes against "Drug War Overkill," the transgression must be gross: Judge Jose Gonzalez admonished U.S. marshals for seizing a $3.5- million Martin County resort without first seeking a Federal- court hearing. Prosecutors asserted that the Manatee Resort had been purchased with drug profits, but the owner had not - and still hasn't - been charged with any crime. In voiding the seizure, Judge Gonzalez noted that "neither Congress nor the people intended that the Bill of Rights be a fatality in the War on Drugs." In a more sinister vein, the pressure to "get" the drug kingpins and their lawyers occasionally tempts drug agents to cross the boundaries of ethical law enforcement practices into the domain of entrapment or worse. JUDGE CALLS AGENTS' TACTICS 'OUTRAGEOUS' Citing "outrageous" misconduct by governmental agents, a U.S. magistrate Wednesday sternly recommended dismissal of a 13-count federal indictment against accused cocaine kingpin Harold Rosenthal. U.S. Magistrate Peter Nimkoff accused under-cover Drug Enforcement Administration agents from Atlanta of trying last October [1983] to trick defense attorney Alan Ross of Miami into making incriminating statements about an alleged jailbreak attempt by Rosenthal. When Ross refused to take the DEA's bait, Nimkoff ruled, Atlanta prosecutors then used a deceptive affidavit to get a search warrant to read privileged attorney-client letters between Rosenthal and Ross. DEA agents later told the court that a cell-mate of Rosenthal's had told them that attorney Ross would furnish the money and cocaine for the escape. And so DEA agent Donald Carter, posing as a friend of Rosenthal's, went to Ross' office in Miami Oct. 25 to talk about the plot. But every time Carter mentioned drugs and escape, Ross kept replying that he didn't want to know anything about it. Ross repeatedly told Carter that all he did for Rosenthal was represent him in court. And at his next meeting with Rosenthal, Ross blasted his client for sending Carter to him. Though rebuffed by Ross, Carter and federal prosecutors in Atlanta didn't give up. According to the file, they swore out an artfully drafted affidavit, suggesting that Ross was involved in the escape plan and avoiding mention of Ross' refusals, in order to get the search warrant to intercept Rosenthal's mail. "It is as clear a misrepresentation of facts as ever there were," Ross argued to Nimkoff in June. "Their zeal has blinded them to the parameters of decency." Nimkoff ultimately agreed. The prosecutors and agents "consistently and surreptitiously sought to breach the attorney-client privilege," he ruled Wednesday, calling the action "so outrageous" as to require dismissal. Perhaps the attempt to ensnare Mr. Ross should be regarded as an aberrational case rather than a harbinger of things to come. On the other hand, some form of enticement of defendants is more or less built in to the system of drug enforcement, varying only in its subtlety or blatancy. The institutionalization of what the layperson might call "entrapment" stems from the government's dependence on informants to make cases against parties to a consensual transaction. Informants are paid in effect to encourage or to "create" crime by facilitating drug deals that provide occasion for agents to make an arrest. In the most blatant - but lawful - cases, the incentive system includes payment contingent upon the making of an arrest, or worse, payment in proportion to the number of kilos or the value of property seized. In effect, the system rewards free lance drug "investigators." An example of this type of entrepreneurship involves a woman who "set up" at least forty men in South Florida. Her tactics included seducing an intended defendant and establishing a sexual relationship. After a few weeks of gentle pressure, she would arrange a drug deal between her reluctant "boyfriend" and drug enforcement agents. The "boyfriend" would be busted, and the woman would get paid. Magistrate Peter Nimkoff recorded his disapproval by recommending dismissal of cocaine charges against a defendant victimized by this technique. III. THE GROWTH OF BIG BROTHERISM Perhaps the public at large has no interest in the malignant effects of drug enforcement on criminal justice. After all, the attack on the rights of criminal defendants in drug cases seems ordinarily to affect only an alien "them" - those who inhabit the drug underworld - not "us," the mainstream of society. In short, drug enforcement procedures seem to have no impact on daily life. But in fact the tentacles of drug enforcement have begun to reach into the lives of ordinary people, not just those involved in the drug business. Civilian casualties in the War on Drugs continue to mount as all levels of government increasingly resort to a formidable array of "Big-Brother-is- watching" enforcement techniques. A. WIRETAPPING The War on Drugs has caused the United States to become an increasingly monitored country. Although telephone monitors are supposed to minimize interception of calls unrelated to the purpose of their investigation by listening only long enough to determine content, wiretaps open all conversations on the line in question to scrutiny. In 1983, court-authorized wiretaps rose 60%, primarily in cases of suspected drug trafficking. The government sought and obtained 648 wiretaps. None of its applications was denied. In a nation of 230,000,000, the number 648 seems small, and the Department of Justice has no doubt exercised restraint in selecting wiretap targets. On the other hand, the number might well be much greater if the DEA and FBI had the personnel necessary to staff the listening posts and otherwise administer the taps.* The number would also likely to be larger if Congress lowered the substantial statutory barriers under Title III of the 1968 Omnibus Crime Control Act to obtaining an intercept order from a court.+ The pressures of the War on Drugs will sooner or later crystallize the issue of reducing those impediments, since expanded wiretap authority is probably the single most potent investigative tool for drug conspiracy cases. With or without that "reform," the widening of the War on Drugs will almost certainly produce more wiretaps next year and the year after that. In any event, the precise number of wiretaps should not be allowed to obscure the significance of the rapid growth of this form of invasion of privacy. Wiretaps compromise a fundamental principle, and the War on Drugs continues to erode it by encouraging - or demanding - the proliferation of electronic surveillance. *[It takes at least six persons to administer a single wiretap and listening post around the clock: the supervising agent, 3 case (monitoring) agents, the technical agent, and the supervising attorney.] +[The request for authorization to apply for an intercept order must travel up the chain of command from the field agent to the director or head of the investigating agency, to a review by the office of enforcement operations, which in turn makes a recommendation to the Assistant United States Attorney General. The request must be in writing, accompanied by draft copies of the application and order and a detailed affidavit containing specific information establishing probable cause for the issuance of the intercept order. The request must also be approved personally by the United States Attorney in whose district the application is to be filed. Only the Attorney General or a specially designated Assistant Attorney General may authorize an application to a federal judge for an order approving the interception of wire or oral communications. Departmental policy requires that the applications be filed with a court by supervising attorneys rather than by law enforcement officers. An order must confine the period of authorization to what is "necessary to achieve the objective of the authorization," and cannot exceed 30 days. After 30 days, an extension may be sought by following the same procedures as for the initial order. Agents are required to record the intercept "if possible." Monitoring and logging are required by departmental policy.] B. STOPPING CARS ON PUBLIC HIGHWAYS TROOPERS AIMING AT DRUG FLOW ON TURNPIKE For years, cars and trucks laden with marijuana, cocaine and pills have been travelling north on Florida's Turnpike taking the cargo to northern buyers, lawmen say. .... Last month, troopers routinely patrolling the turnpike from Palm Beach to St. Lucie counties arrested 64 people on drug-related charges. A month earlier, troopers had arrested only 14 persons. The seizures and the arrests are the result of a heightened awareness among the troopers who are now making a serious effort to arrest suspected smugglers. "We want them to stop using the turnpike," said Sgt. Phil Moan of Troop K, which is responsible for patrolling the entire length of the turnpike. ... Troopers, he said, became more suspicious of cars riding low in the back. They also started looking closely at cars with out-of-state tags if there were no luggage or clothing visible. Frequently, Moan said, smugglers will use air fresheners and perfumes to mask the odor of the narcotics. "They look harder and harder at every vehicle," Moan said. DEA's Lloyd said that state police agencies in other states are also making an effort to stop the ground transportation of narcotics. In New Mexico, he said, a state police program has been operating for several months. One of the indicators officials in New Mexico watch for is Florida tags, he said. According to the article, the Florida Highway Patrol relied upon a drug courier profile that cautioned troopers to be suspicious of rental cars, "scrupulous obedience to traffic laws," and drivers wearing "lots of gold," or who did not "fit vehicle," and "ethnic groups associated with the drug trade." The Florida Highway Patrol's reliance on the drug courier profile was interrupted by a Palm Beach County court ruling that articulated the civil liberties impact of the challenged practice. As recounted in a local newspaper: Circuit Judge Carl Harper blasted the profile as "so broad and indistinct as to ensnare the innocent as well as the guilty." Harper ruled that the hypothetical description of drug smugglers used by troopers to combat drug trafficking violates constitutional protections against unreasonable searches and seizures. "While we have a horrendous drug smuggling problem here in South Florida, the ends simply do not justify the unlawful means occasionally employed to combat the problem," Harper said. The judge said the profile gives the troopers too much leeway in pulling over cars to check out hunches that the vehicles may be carrying drugs.... [Defense lawyer] Natale, hailing the ruling as a blow for the rights of the public, said "Judge Harper was confronted with the question of, do we let the Florida Highway Patrol decide who can proceed up and down our highways free of unreasonable searches and seizures, or do you decide to use the Constitution and follow the laws?" Natale said patrol records showed a majority of the motorists arrested through the drug profile were black, suggesting the profile merely gave troopers an excuse to pull drivers over and search their vehicles. Another tactic that police sometimes use is the roadblock. Police set up a barrier, stop every vehicle at a given location, and check the driver's license and registration. While one officer checks the paperwork, another walks around the car with a trained drug-detector dog: Under the watchful eyes of government attorneys, nearly 1,500 vehicles stopped last month by the Florida Highway Patrol for safety inspections were also checked for hidden contraband by drug-sniffing police dogs. One drug arrest was made. Lady Luck and Citizen Band radios were suggested as possible causes for the lack of more arrests. Still, authorities said they were sufficiently pleased with the operation, staged at four roadblocks in North Florida, to expand it to other areas of the state as part of an intensified crackdown on drug trafficking. "I don't know how, where or when [they will resume], but we want to send the message out that we will be aggressive in the War on Drugs and will use every available tool," said Lee Gilreath, a special agent who coordinated the Florida Department of Law Enforcement's role in the multi-agency operation. The law does not regard the dog's sniffing as the equivalent of a search on the theory that the odor of contraband is an exterior olfactory clue in the public domain. As a result, no right of privacy is invaded by the sniff, so the police do not need a search warrant or even probable cause to use the dog on a citizen. If the dog "alerts," moreover, the signal fulfills the cause requirement for further investigation of the driver or vehicle for drugs. C. MONITORING OF STUDENTS AND SCHOOL PERSONNEL The political climate supporting the War on Drugs has generated increasingly invasive monitoring of personal behavior. In one manifestation of the antidrug pressure, drug-detector dogs have been brought into public schools to sniff out student lockers, which are searched when the dog alerts. The question arises whether students can claim the benefit of the fourth amendment's protection from unreasonable search and seizure. In a case involving the search of a high school student's purse, the Supreme Court held that students do have privacy rights under the fourth amendment, but that searches may occur on "reasonable grounds for suspecting" that the student is violating the law or school rules. Although the Court rejected the _in loco parentis_ rationale, characterizing the conduct of school officials as state action for constitutional purposes, the Court's new "reasonable suspicion" test will undoubtedly permit far more school searches than the probable cause standard.* *[At least one commentator has concluded that the Court created "an unprecedented exception to the probable cause standard.... [T]he reasonable grounds' standard adopted by the Court will promote unjustified searches in public schools since the privacy rights of students were not given adequate weight in the Court's balancing of relevant interests." The antidrug drive shows up in yet more intrusive ways. A school system in Bergen County, New Jersey voted to implement a more comprehensive method of detecting drug violations by compelling students to submit samples of their urine for testing in a drug laboratory. The ACLU filed suit challenging the program, and the court enjoined it as too broad. Once again, the outcomes in these situations matter less than the persistence of the efforts and the attitudes they reveal. The pressures underlying these plans, abortive or not, continue to mount and take other forms. "Tipster" programs are another manifestation of the perceived necessity to respond to the drug problem. DRUGS, PAYOFFS AND THE AMERICAN HIGH SCHOOL [W]ell-meaning civic leaders have asked local citizens to turn in their peers.... Town elders in Lewisville, Texas, (population 24,000) are offering a $100 reward to students who provide information about drug users or sellers at the local high school. Though various American high schools have encouraged students to make anonymous tips on local drug pushers, only Lewisville's has been desperate enough to post "wanted" signs and offer bounty. Last September, Lewisville High School's principal, C. Douglas Killough, solicited community leaders for commitments to pay for the drug-reward program..... Lewisville's business community responded enthusiastically to the proposed program. So many commitments were received, in fact, that the local PTA ceased its solicitations. "It only took us a few days..." recalled John Zepka, an executive committee member of the Lewisville group. To date, the program's practical success has turned out to be less certain. An assistant principal at Lewisville High, Malcolm Dennis, told the Dallas Morning News last week that "you'd be astonished at how well the students are cooperating. Some have even turned in their best friends." But of the 30 students turned in to school authorities, principal Killough himself told us, only half have actually been found in possession. D. KEEPING TABS ON THE POPULACE BY COMPUTER CONGRESSMEN, CELEBRITIES INCLUDED IN U.S. DRUG FILES The federal Drug Enforcement Administration is keeping computer files on more than 1.5 million persons, including U.S. congressmen, entertainers, clergymen, industry leaders and foreign dignitaries, according to DEA Administrator Francis M. Mullen Jr. Many of the famous persons named in the computerized index system, known as NADDIS (Narcotics and Dangerous Drug Information System), are the subject of "unsubstantiated allegations of illegal activity," Mullen said.... Mullen's letter stated that "less than 5 percent [or 7,500 of the total 1.5 million persons whose names were added to the computer since 1974] ... are under investigation as suspected narcotic traffickers by DEA." The NADDIS computer system contains data from informants, suspects, surveillance and intelligence reports compiled by DEA and other agencies, Mullen said. The information on NADDIS is available to federal drug enforcement officials in other agencies, such as the FBI, Customs, and the IRS. State law enforcement officials can probably also gain access on request. Obviously, this method of oversight has troubling implications for one's personal interest in privacy and good reputation, especially for the ninety-five percent named who are not under active investigation. A data bank of this kind becomes objectionable for other reasons: the quality of the data is dubious, controls on access and disclosure appear inadequate, and the consequences of being included could be severe. Does one become a target of investigation as a result of such a listing? And what about the sheer number of listings? At a certain point the numbers grow too large for comfort. E. STIGMATIZING Another anecdote from the press illustrates yet a further result of the antidrug crusade: "Public embarrassment" is the federal government's goal in publishing a list of names of people caught bringing small amounts of drugs into the United States - beginning tomorrow - says Dennis Murphy, a U.S. Customs spokesman in Washington. But critics of the plan, including Charles Sims, staff counsel for the American Civil Liberties Union in New York, say the list amounts to "slander" of people who have not been found guilty of any crime. The punish-by-publishing list, to be supplied to news organizations each Wednesday, will include only small-scale smugglers who were neither arrested nor prosecuted for their alleged crimes, said Harry Carnes, Miami Customs District Director. The "drug blotter" will include the name of each alleged smuggler, address, occupation, age, type and quantity of drugs being smuggled, method of travel and point of origin, Customs said in a prepared statement. Carnes said persons whose cases are dropped from prosecution will automatically be put on the press list - with no option to request arrest as an alternative. "One principal reason for trials in this country is to decide who is innocent and who is guilty," Sims said. "When the police undertake to announce that people are guilty without a trial, then they are slandering people.... They will be damaging people's reputations." Miami attorney Richard Sharpstein labeled the plan "disgusting." According to Sharpstein, people who are arrested on drug charges would have more legal rights than those who aren't arrested, but find themselves on the customs list. F. MILITARIZING LAW ENFORCEMENT Millions of recreational boaters and small craft fliers are now exposed to the possibility of an encounter with the Armed Forces of the United States. By amending the Posse Comitatus Act in 1981 and authorizing the Navy to interdict smuggling vessels at sea, Congress inflicted the first major breach in the century-old wall of separation between civilian and military law enforcement roles.* Of course, even that sacrifice of principle to expedience proved insufficient to fulfill the illusory quest to bring the illegal drug supply under "control." Accordingly, several members of Congress soon began seeking a wider military role. Some sought full and direct military participation in drug enforcement, while others sought merely to expand the military's back-up role. In 1985, Congress reached a "compromise" position. *[The Posse Comitatus Act prohibits civil law enforcement by the military; however, amendments to Title X of the United States Code now allow the military to gather information, advise, lend equipment, and deploy personnel at the request of local law enforcement officials with jurisdiction over drug or immigration offenses. The Navy was partially exempted from the restrictions of the Posse Comitatus Act by regulations implementing the 1981 amendments, and Naval vessels typically assist in drug interdiction operations by transporting Coast Guard officers to a target vessel and towing seized ships back to port.] Congressional negotiators have agreed on a plan that allows the military to stop more drug traffickers headed for South Florida but does not give them the power to make civilian arrests. Rep. Charles Bennett of Florida had pressed for a stronger plan that would have given the military the authority to search, seize and arrest drug traffickers at sea. The Jacksonville Democrat settled for a compromise after his plan became a sticking point in negotiations. "The compromise isn't bad at all," Bennett said. "It strengthens our hand against drug smugglers, and that's what we were after."... The conferees agreed to spend $15 million for 500 new Coast Guard officers who will be stationed on naval ships in the prime drug trafficking routes in the Caribbean and off the Gulf Coast. The Navy ships will be able to stop vessels suspected of carrying drugs and the Coast Guard officers will be able to board and search the vessels and make arrests. The compromise allows the Navy to become more involved in the drug interdiction while avoiding the legal ramifications of having the military make civilian arrests. Opponents of more naval involvement fear that military arrests would infringe civil liberties and end up in lengthy court cases. But what will happen next? Surely, this latest enlargement of military "assistance" will not "win" the War on Drugs; and therefore it cannot placate the demands for still more intervention. On the contrary, the 1985 compromise represents only a transitional phase. Its real significance lies in the momentum generated for further enlargements of the military's enforcement role. And the dynamics of the War on Drugs will carry that escalation even further. The House of Representatives, for example, resolved that the President should deploy the Armed Forces of the United States within forty-five days. Political accommodation with the Senate took the silly edge off that vote, but the pressure to "unleash the military" in the War on Drugs will not easily go away.* *[The Defense Drug Interdiction Assistance Act of 1986 continues this trend by authorizing a substantial increase in funding for interdiction efforts and greater use of the military resources.] IV. CONCLUSION The historic dynamic of the American drug control movement has been expansionary. Pretrial detention, longer and mandatory prison sentences, enhanced fines and property forfeitures, good faith exceptions to the exclusionary rule, roadblocks, drug-detector dogs, wiretaps, informants, undercover agents, extradition treaties, tax investigations, computers, currency controls - the list grows and grows. And still it is not enough. Always the government needs more. The latest "imperative" in the War on Drugs is compulsory and sometimes random urine sampling for traces of illegal drugs, a practice now followed by one-fourth of Fortune 500 companies,* by many local governments, and by the United States of America for its employees and the employees of federal contractors. The practice of watching an employee or applicant pee into a jar would seem to implicate rights of privacy recognized by the fourth amendment, and most federal courts have ruled that some showing of individualized suspicion is required to compel a public employee to submit to urinalysis. But exceptions have been carved out for some classes of employees, and the view that the right of privacy does not protect bodily wastes has gained some support. Whatever the final resolution of the issue, the private sector will remain largely free to require such tests. Drug testing, of course, is only part of a much larger picture. The real question is this: what happens when drug testing is absorbed into the culture without noticeable effect on the black market in drugs? What will the next round of escalation bring? *[General Dynamics, General Motors, Greyhound, E.F. Hutton, IBM, Mobil, The New York Times, The Teamsters, and United Auto Workers are but a few of the enterprises that have recently instituted some type of workplace drug testing. One rationale for requiring that urinalysis be predicated upon individual suspicion is the not-unlikely possibility of a false positive result: Two Navy doctors were almost drummed out of the service [in 1984] because they tested positive for morphine, the result of having eaten too many poppy seed bagels. Indeed, the Navy program has seen huge errors - over 4,000 men and women were recalled at full back pay [in 1985] because they were discharged on the basis of a [false positive].] That question, ultimately, shows the truly insidious quality of the War on Drugs: the drug enforcement system can never have enough power or resources, to win the war. In the futile quest to control the uncontrollable, the government follows the imperative to expand. Legislative reforms, doubling of "troops," administrative directives, task forces, executive coordination - all of these have proven ineffective in controlling the drug supply. Yet the reflexive response of the system is always to do more, always to expand. "In one sense," said former Attorney General William French Smith, "to deal with this problem, we have to blanket the world." Blanketing the world, of course, begins at home. When one initiative after another fails to produce any discernible or lasting impact on the black market in drugs, the frustrated impetus for control carries the system to its next "logical" extension. The internal logic of the War on Drugs, coupled with its insatiable appetite for resources and power in its futile pursuit, leads inevitably to repressive measures. The authoritarian logic of drug control was noted, although not endorsed, by the President's Commission on Marijuana and Drug Abuse more than a decade ago: Under certain conditions, perhaps, law enforcement alone might eliminate the illicit market in drugs. To achieve this, though, would require, at the least, multifold increases in man-power, a suspension of Fourth Amendment restraints on police searches, seizures and wiretaps, wide-scale pretrial detention, abolition of the exclusionary rule and border controls so extreme that they would substantially hinder foreign commerce. In a nutshell, the Commission suggested, a successful drug enforcement program requires a police state. In the United States, warnings about a police state sound a bit excessive, if not jejune, if one has in mind the nations of the Soviet Bloc. Our contemporary reality is quite different. The gradual accretion of enforcement powers moves so slowly as to be invisible to the untrained eye. The rights of citizens recede by gradual erosion, by relentless nibbling, rather than gobbling. Yet the danger to civil liberties is no less real, especially in the realm of criminal justice. Magistrate Peter Nimkoff of the Southern District of Florida dramatized that reality in his resignation from the federal court in protest of the continued erosion of the rights of those accused of crime. In an exit interview with the press, Nimkoff focused on the War on Drugs as the source of governmental abuses of power: According to Nimkoff, many people have decided "that because drugs are such a horrible thing, we will bend the Constitution in drug cases," or "that there are two constitutions - one for criminal cases generally, and another for drug cases .... I think that's wrong .... It invites police officers to behave like criminals. And they do." Among his specific areas of concern are: * Government sting operations in which it is considered "sound police practice to get people to do bad things in order that they can then be accused," Nimkoff said. * Use of informants who pretend to be criminals during ongoing investigations and then testify about what they did. Nimkoff said that the use of civilian informants and assignment of police as undercover agents are "very, very dangerous" practices. "Justice Brandeis said about 60 years ago that government is the omnipresent teacher, especially in a democracy," he said. "And that the police practices of our government teach moral lessons to our society. And I think it is wrong and dangerous for the police to make a norm of deception...." "It's a very dangerous practice for the police to begin to behave like criminals in order to catch criminals, and to encourage the commission of the offense instead of preventing its occurrence." Nimkoff said he's also troubled by the Comprehensive Crime Control Act of 1984, which he said undercuts the presumption of innocence and removed the traditional presumption that a defendant is entitled to bond before trial. Although most criminal defendants are eventually found guilty, Nimkoff said, "I'm very reluctant to discard the presumption of human freedom or the presumption of innocence .... To discard them is to engage in classically authoritarian behaviors." Magistrate Nimkoff's resignation, however unusual, reflects a traditional concern. Even Justice Hugo Black, an advocate of aggressive enforcement against the drug trade, warned of its ready capacity for excess: "The narcotics traffic can too easily cause threats to our basic liberties by making attractive the adoption of constitutionally forbidden shortcuts that might suppress and blot out more quickly the unpopular and dangerous conduct." As the War on Drugs converts paramilitary rhetoric into social reality, the nation's threshold for extremist ideas rises. Thus, the politics of the War on Drugs generates proposals that only a few years ago would have been repudiated as either absurd or excessive. In this climate of repression, politicians advocate capital punishment for drug dealers, or isolating them in Arctic Gulags, or simply shooting drug planes out of the sky without charges or trial. What will tomorrow's political agenda find tolerable? A bill in the Florida Senate proposed to prohibit the sale of "any magazine or other printed matter the dominant theme and purpose of which, taken as a whole, is to advocate, advise, encourage, or glorify the unlawful consumption, purchase, or usage of any controlled substance...." Despite the bill's analogy to valid antiobscenity statutes, it almost certainly violates the right of free speech under existing case law - even advocacy of the violent overthrow of the government finds protection under the first amendment, absent a "clear and present danger" of intended imminent violence. But case law and history also demonstrate that war-time emergencies can justify curtailment of constitutional rights, and the analogy to the War on Drugs beckons. "When a nation is at war many things that might be said in time of peace ... will not be endured...." Or when "our shores are threatened by hostile forces, the power to protect must be commensurate with the threatened danger." After a few more years of frustration with the War on Drugs, extremist proposals may not seem so far-fetched. Repeated expansions of governmental powers have already gained acceptance as reasonable or "necessary" measures to fight the War on Drugs. Given the nature of the beast, we can expect the demands for more power to spiral upward towards infinity. There is no light at the end of the law enforcement tunnel. Already, some of the authoritarian methods mentioned by the National Commission on Marijuana and Drug Abuse, such as pretrial detention, have become law. Why not go further and abolish the exclusionary rule altogether, authorizing drug agents to search for drugs, tap telephones, or seize financial records without warrant, probable cause or reasonable suspicion? Why not adopt a bounty hunter system for suspected drug dealers and teach school children to report their parents for drug possession? Why not, in fact, bypass entirely the cumbersome criminal justice system, with its tedious set of impediments to investigation, prosecution, and conviction, and substitute a control system consisting of civil sanctions: fines, asset seizures and forfeitures. Control over the offender's future conduct would come, as one law professor has already proposed, through a civil injunction forbidding the defendant from violating the drug laws in the future. Violation of the injunction would be proved in a civil contempt proceeding by a mere preponderance of the evidence, rather than by proof beyond a reasonable doubt as required in a criminal prosecution: no need for grand jury indictment, right to counsel, or even trial by jury. After all, if the United States Code is the "enemy," it must be overcome. Personal freedom is the inevitable casualty of the War on Drugs. The zealous pursuit of drug offenders is manifested in the adoption of increasingly stringent punishments for existing drug offenses, the proliferation of new drug-related criminal legislation by Congress, more aggressive investigative and prosecutorial initiatives, generally supported by judicial validations. Taken together, these developments suggest that the legal system is evolving to take the paramilitary rhetoric of the War on Drugs at face value. Like the wartime curtailment of civil liberties during both World Wars, the War on Drugs is used to justify the application of _force majeure_. In short, the War on Drugs is producing a political-legal context in which drug enforcement constitutes an exception to the principle that laws must comport "with the deepest notions of what is fair and just." In drug enforcement, most anything goes. This dishonors our legacy of limited government and natural rights, those "principles of justice so rooted in the tradition and conscience of our people as to be ranked as fundamental." It also sets a very dangerous precedent, for it is doubtful that drugs can be treated as sui generis in the long run. Inevitably, the drug exception will spill over to other areas of the law. We clearly face the danger of losing the ability, in Madison's immortal phrase, to "oblige [the government] to control itself."