The battle to tackle drug addiction is not lost

The debate about legalisation is a distraction.

It is impossible not to be moved by the plight of communities in Mexico and other drug-producing countries across the world. Crime and violence related to the supply of drugs are without a doubt causing extreme grief to citizens and governments. But reaching to decriminalise or legalise those drugs in the hope that it will overcome those communities’ deep-rooted problems offers them a false prospectus, and overlooks the nuanced picture of drug use and addiction which in this country at least, is in decline.

For many producer nations, drugs are one of a number of complex factors contributing to adverse conditions within their countries.  Legalisation would compound the devastating effects of drug use and the drugs trade, as former UN head of drugs and crime Antonio Maria Costa argues, especially if the structural issues that leave those states without the resources to tackle the causes and consequences of their drug problem are not addressed.

The legal framework in this country does not prevent those with drug problems from being treated humanely and effectively. Drug treatment is freely and quickly available via the NHS in England, and offers users the prospect of stability and recovery from the chaotic lives inherent in addiction. Over the last six years, 340,000 mainly heroin users have got help for their addiction, of whom around one third successfully completed their treatment, which compares favourably to the international evidence of recovery. Addicts are treated as patients in the health service, and if there are other crimes to account for, addiction treatment is offered for offenders in the community and in prison in line with NHS standards.

Drug use in this country is falling, particularly amongst young people. Heroin, crack and cannabis are being used by fewer people, and whilst there are more young people taking so-called legal highs and novel drugs, their numbers are nowhere near the levels we faced when setting up the nation’s treatment response primarily for heroin addicts more than a decade ago. At the same time, more people are recovering from drug addiction in England. There is no cause for complacency, in fact we are accelerating efforts to orientate drug treatment towards recovery, but it is worth pointing out that the trends on use, addiction and recovery are heading in the right direction.

Domestically and globally, the public discourse about drugs tends to exaggerate the power of the drug, and minimises the impact of social and economic circumstances. Compared to the 2.8million who use illegal drugs there are around 300,000 heroin or crack users in England, over half of whom are in treatment each year. Probably another 30,000 or so are in treatment for dependency on other drugs e.g. powder cocaine, cannabis and ecstasy. Those who become addicted tend to be seen by the media as the victims of hedonism, the random by-product of widespread recreational drug use. A steady trickle of millionaires’ children and celebrities fuel this myth, playing to the anxieties of middle class readers about their own children. Too often, those in the public eye think they understand drug addiction because of personal or family experiences which bear little relation to the multiple disadvantages experienced by most addicts.

In reality drug addiction is targeted. The 300,000 heroin and crack addicts are not a random sub set of England’s regular drug users. If they were, they would be as likely to live in Surrey as Salford, to have been to Westminster School as Wandsworth Prison, and their childhood would have been as likely to have been overseen by a live-in nanny as much as by Newham Borough Council.

Addiction, unlike use, is concentrated in our poorest communities, and within those communities it is the individuals with the least capital who are the most vulnerable to succumb and least able to extricate themselves. Compared to the rest of the population, heroin and crack addicts are male, working class, offenders, products of the care system, with poor educational records, little or no experience of employment, and a history of mental illness. Increasingly they are also in their forties with declining physical health. They will tend to struggle more than most to make sound personal decisions, which contributes to their other problems.

The reputation of heroin is such that few people will even try it. Of those who become addicted, the majority will recognise where they may be heading and stop. Amongst them will be people who are intelligent, resourceful and ambitious who will realise they are in “in over their heads”, pull themselves up sharp, and sort themselves out. Others will not necessarily have the innate resources to do this but will have family and friends to support them to achieve the same outcome. Key to this success will be the existence of an alternative life with the reality or realistic prospect of a job, a secure home, a stake in society and supportive relationships. The access to social, personal and economic capital not only enables individuals to overcome their immediate addiction, but to avoid relapse.

The government’s 2010 drug strategy recognises that treating addicts in isolation from efforts to address their employment, their housing status and the myriad other problems they face is unlikely to lead to long term recovery. According addiction primacy as a cause of poverty, criminality, worklessness, and child neglect denies the fact that it is as much a consequence of individual family and community breakdown as its genesis. Drug addiction exacerbates problems, and unless it is addressed will inhibit or even prevent progress in other aspects of people’s lives, but addressing it in isolation is not a silver bullet.

Drugs are not the unique barrier to normal social functioning for most addicted people. Drugs are not the unique barrier to a better, fairer and safer world in drug producing countries. The debate about legalisation is a distraction from facing and comprehensively addressing the social and economic factors that underpin drug use, addiction and the drugs trade.

Paul Hayes is the Chief Executive of the National Treatment Agency for Substance Misuse (NTA)

Opium poppy buds in an Afghan field. Photograph: Getty Images

Paul Hayes is the Chief Executive of the National Treatment Agency for Substance Misuse (NTA)

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France’s burkini ban could not come at a worse time

Yet more legislation against veiled women can only further divide an already divided nation.

Since mayor of Cannes David Lisnard banned the full-body burkini from his town’s beaches, as many as 15 French resorts have followed suit. Arguments defending the bans fall into three main categories. First, it is about defending the French state’s secularism (laïcité). Second, that the costume represents a misogynistic doctrine that sees female bodies as shameful. And finally, that the burkini is cited as a threat to public order.

None of these arguments satisfactorily refute the claims of civil rights activists that the bans are fundamentally Islamophobic.

The niceties of laïcité

The Cannes decree explicitly invokes secular values. It prohibits anyone “not dressed in a fashion respectful of laïcité” from accessing public beaches. However, the French state has only banned “ostentatious” religious symbols in schools and for government employees as part of laïcité (the strict separation between the state and religious society). And in public spaces, laïcité claims to respect religious plurality. Indeed, the Laïcité Commission has tweeted that the ban, therefore, “cannot be based upon the principle of laïcité”.

While veils covering the entire face such as the burqa or niqab are illegal, this is not to protect laïcité; it is a security matter. The legal justification is that these clothes make it impossible to identify the person underneath – which is not the case for the burkini.

 

By falling back on laïcité to police Muslim women in this way, the Cannes authorities are fuelling the argument that “fundamentalist secularism” has become a means of excluding Muslims from French society.

Colonial attitudes

Others, such as Laurence Rossignol, the minister for women’s rights, hold that the burkini represents a “profoundly archaic view of a woman’s place in society”, disregarding Muslim women who claim to wear their burkini voluntarily.

This typifies an enduring colonial attitude among many non-Muslim French politicians, who feel entitled to dictate to Muslim women what is in their best interests. Rossignol has in the past compared women who wear headscarves through choice to American “negroes” who supported slavery.

Far from supporting women’s rights, banning the burkini will only leave the women who wear it feeling persecuted. Even those with no choice in the matter are not helped by the ban. This legal measure does nothing to challenge patriarchal authority over female bodies in the home. Instead, it further restricts the lives of veiled women by replacing it with state authority in public.

Open Islamophobia

Supporters of the ban have also claimed that, with racial tensions high after recent terrorist attacks, it is provocative to wear this form of Muslim clothing. Such an argument was made by Pierre-Ange Vivoni, mayor of Sisco in Corsica, when he banned the burkini in his commune. Early reports suggested a violent clash between local residents and non-locals of Moroccan origin was triggered when strangers photographed a burkini-wearing woman in the latter group, which angered her male companions. Vivoni claimed that banning the costume protected the security of local people, including those of North African descent.

Those reports have transpired to be false: none of the women in question were even wearing a burkini at the time of the incident. Nonetheless, the ban has stood in Sisco and elsewhere.

To be “provoked” by the burkini is to be provoked by the visibility of Muslims. Banning it on this basis punishes Muslim women for other people’s prejudice. It also disregards the burkini’s potential to promote social cohesion by giving veiled women access to the same spaces as their non-Muslim compatriots.

Appeals to public order have, occasionally, been openly Islamophobic. Thierry Migoule, head of municipal services in Cannes, claimed that the burkini “refers to an allegiance to terrorist movements”, conveniently ignoring the Muslim victims of recent attacks. Barely a month after Muslims paying their respects to friends and family killed in Nice were racially abused, such comments are both distasteful and irresponsible.

Increased divisions

Feiza Ben Mohammed, spokesperson for the Federation of Southern Muslims, fears that stigmatising Muslims in this way will play into the hands of IS recruiters. That fear seems well-founded: researchers cite a sense of exclusion as a factor behind the radicalisation of a minority of French Muslims. Measures like this can only exacerbate that problem. Indeed, provoking repressive measures against European Muslims to cultivate such a sentiment is part of the IS strategy.

Meanwhile, the day after the incident in Sisco, riot police were needed in nearby Bastia to prevent a 200-strong crowd chanting “this is our home” from entering a neighbourhood with many residents of North African descent. Given the recent warning from France’s head of internal security of the risk of a confrontation between “the extreme right and the Muslim world”, such scenes are equally concerning.

Now more than ever, France needs unity. Yet more legislation against veiled women can only further divide an already divided nation.

The Conversation

Fraser McQueen, PhD Candidate, University of Stirling

This article was originally published on The Conversation. Read the original article.