- Originally published in the Buffalo News (New York) August 25, 1996, Copyright 1996 The Buffalo News
By: GARY WEBB, San Jose Mercury News
For the better part of a decade, a San Francisco Bay Area drug ring
sold tons of cocaine to the Crips and Bloods street gangs of Los
Angeles and funneled millions in drug profits to a Latin American
guerrilla army run by the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency, an
investigation by the San Jose Mercury News has found.
This
drug network opened the first pipeline between Colombia's cocaine
cartels and the black neighborhoods of Los Angeles, a city now known as
the "crack" capital of the world. The cocaine that flooded in helped
spark a crack explosion in urban America -- and provided the cash and
connections needed for L.A.'s gangs to buy automatic weapons.
It
is one of the most bizarre alliances in modern history: the union of a
U.S.-backed army attempting to overthrow a revolutionary socialist
government and the Uzi-toting "gangstas" of Compton and South-Central
Los Angeles.
The army's financiers -- who
met with CIA agents both before and during the time they were selling
the drugs in L.A. -- delivered cut-rate cocaine to the gangs through a
young South-Central crack dealer named Ricky Donnell Ross.
Unaware
of his suppliers' military and political connections, "Freeway Rick" --
a dope dealer of mythic proportions in the L.A. drug world -- turned
the cocaine powder into crack and wholesaled it to gangs across the country.
The
cash Ross paid for the cocaine, court records show, was then used to
buy weapons and equipment for a guerrilla army named the Fuerza
Democratica Nicaraguense (Nicaraguan Democratic Force) or FDN, the
largest of several anti-communist groups commonly called the contras.
While
the FDN's war is barely a memory today, black America is still dealing
with its poisonous side effects. Urban neighborhoods are grappling with
legions of homeless crack addicts. Thousands of young black men
are serving long prison sentences for selling cocaine -- a drug that
was virtually unobtainable in black neighborhoods before members of the
CIA's army brought it into South-Central in the 1980s at
bargain-basement prices.
And the L.A. gangs, which used their enormous cocaine profits to arm
themselves and spread crack across the country, are still thriving,
turning entire blocks of major cities into occasional war zones.
"There
is a saying that the ends justify the means," former FDN leader and
drug dealer Oscar Danilo Blandon Reyes testified during a recent
cocaine trafficking trial in San Diego. "And that's what Mr. Bermudez
(the CIA agent who commanded the FDN) told us in Honduras, OK? So we
started raising money for the contra revolution."
Recently
declassified reports, federal court testimony, undercover tapes, court
records here and abroad and hundreds of hours of interviews over the
past 12 months leave no doubt that Blandon was no ordinary drug dealer.
Shortly
before Blandon -- who had been the drug ring's Southern California
distributor -- took the stand in San Diego as a witness for the U.S.
Department of Justice, federal prosecutors obtained a court order
preventing defense lawyers from delving into his ties to the CIA.
Blandon,
one of the FDN's founders in California, "will admit that he was a
large-scale dealer in cocaine, and there is no additional benefit to
any defendant to inquire as to the Central Intelligence Agency,"
Assistant U.S. Attorney L.J. O'Neale argued in his motion shortly
before Ross' trial on cocaine trafficking charges in March.
The
most Blandon would say in court about who called the shots when he sold
cocaine for the FDN was that "we received orders from the -- from other
people."
The 5,000-man FDN, records show,
was created in mid-1981 when the CIA combined several existing groups
of anti-communist exiles into a unified force it hoped would topple the
new socialist government of Nicaragua.
From
1982 to 1988, the FDN -- run by both American and Nicaraguan CIA agents
-- waged a losing war against Nicaragua's Sandinista government, the
Cuban-supported socialists who'd overthrown U.S.-backed dictator
Anastasio Somoza in 1979.
Blandon, who
began working for the FDN's drug operation in late 1981, testified that
the drug ring sold almost a ton of cocaine in the United States that
year -- $ 54 million worth at prevailing wholesale prices. It was not
clear how much of the money found its way back to the CIA's army, but
Blandon testified that "whatever we were running in L.A., the profit
was going for the contra revolution."
At
the time of that testimony, Blandon was a full-time informant for the
Drug Enforcement Administration, a job the U.S. Department of Justice
got him after releasing him from prison in 1994.
Though
Blandon admitted to crimes that have sent others away for life, the
Justice Department turned him loose on unsupervised probation after
only 28 months behind bars and has paid him more than $ 166,000 since,
court records show.
"He has been
extraordinarily helpful," federal prosecutor O'Neale told Blandon's
judge in a plea for the trafficker's release in 1994. Though O'Neale
once described Blandon to a grand jury as "the biggest Nicaraguan
cocaine dealer in the United States," the prosecutor would not discuss
him with the Mercury News.
Blandon's boss
in the FDN's cocaine operation, Juan Norwin Meneses Cantarero, has
never spent a day in a U.S. prison, even though the federal government
has been aware of his cocaine dealings since at least 1974, records
show.
Meneses -- who ran the drug ring
from his homes in the Bay Area -- is listed in the DEA's computers as a
major international drug smuggler and was implicated in 45 separate
federal investigations. Yet he and his cocaine-dealing relatives lived
quite openly in the Bay Area for years, buying homes in Pacifica and
Burlingame, along with bars, restaurants, car lots and factories in San
Francisco, Hayward and Oakland.
"I even drove my own cars, registered in my name," Meneses said during a recent interview in Nicaragua.
Meneses'
organization was "the target of unsuccessful investigative attempts for
many years," prosecutor O'Neale acknowledged in a 1994 affidavit. But
records and interviews revealed that a number of those probes were
stymied not by the elusive Meneses but by agencies of the U.S.
government.
Agents from four organizations
-- the DEA, U.S. Customs, the Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department
and the California Bureau of Narcotic Enforcement -- have complained
that investigations were hampered by the CIA or unnamed "national
security" interests.
One 1988 investigation by a U.S. Senate subcommittee ran into a wall of official secrecy at the Justice Department.
In
that case, congressional records show, Senate investigators were trying
to determine why the U.S. attorney in San Francisco, Joseph
Russoniello, had given $ 36,000 back to a Nicaraguan cocaine dealer
arrested by the FBI.
The money was
returned, court records show, after two contra leaders sent letters to
the court swearing that the drug dealer had been given the cash to buy
weapons for guerrillas. Russoniello said it was cheaper to give the
money back than to disprove that claim.
"The
Justice Department flipped out to prevent us from getting access to
people, records -- finding anything out about it," recalled Jack Blum,
former chief counsel to the Senate subcommittee that investigated
allegations of Contra cocaine trafficking. "It was one of the most
frustrating exercises that I can ever recall."
It
wasn't until 1989, a few months after the contra-Sandinista war ended
and five years after Meneses moved from the Peninsula to a ranch in
Costa Rica, that the U.S. government took action against him -- sort of.
Federal
prosecutors in San Francisco charged Meneses with conspiracy to
distribute one kilo of cocaine in 1984, a year in which he was working
publicly with the FDN.
Meneses' work was
so public, in fact, that he posed for a picture in June 1984 in a
kitchen of a San Francisco home with the FDN's political boss, Adolfo
Calero, a longtime CIA operative who became the public face of the
Contras in the United States.
According to the indictment, Meneses was in the midst of his alleged cocaine conspiracy at the time the picture was taken.
But
the indictment was quickly locked away in the vaults of the San
Francisco federal courthouse, where it remains today -- inexplicably
secret for more than seven years. Meneses was never arrested.
Reporters
found a copy of the secret indictment in Nicaragua, along with a
federal arrest warrant issued Feb. 8, 1989. Records show the no-bail
warrant was never entered into the national law enforcement database
called NCIC, which police use to track down fugitives. The former
federal prosecutor who indicted him, Eric Swenson, declined to be
interviewed.
After Nicaraguan police
arrested Meneses on cocaine charges in Managua in 1991, his judge
expressed astonishment that the infamous smuggler went unmolested by
American drug agents during his years in the United States.
"How
do you explain the fact that Norwin Meneses, implicated since 1974 in
the trafficking of drugs . . . has not been detained in the United
States, a country in which he has lived, entered and departed many
times since 1974?" Judge Martha Quezada asked during a pretrial hearing.
"Well,
that question needs to be asked to the authorities of the United
States," replied Roger Mayorga, then chief of Nicaragua's anti-drug
agency.
His seeming invulnerability amazed American authorities as well.
A
Customs agent who investigated Meneses in 1980 before transferring
elsewhere said he was reassigned to San Francisco seven years later
"and I was sitting in some meetings and here's Meneses' name again. And
I can remember thinking, 'Holy cow, is this guy still around?' "
Blandon
led an equally charmed life. For at least five years he brokered
massive amounts of cocaine to the black gangs of Los Angeles without
being arrested. But his luck changed overnight.
On
Oct. 27, 1986, agents from the FBI, the IRS, local police and the Los
Angeles County sheriff fanned out across Southern California and raided
more than a dozen locations connected to Blandon's cocaine operation.
Blandon and his wife, along with numerous Nicaraguan associates, were
arrested on drug and weapons charges.
The
search warrant affidavit reveals that local drug agents knew plenty
about Blandon's involvement with cocaine and the CIA's army nearly 10
years ago.
"Danilo Blandon is in charge of
a sophisticated cocaine smuggling and distribution organization
operating in Southern California," L.A. County sheriff's Sgt. Tom
Gordon said in the 1986 affidavit. "The monies gained from the sales of
cocaine are transported to Florida and laundered through Orlando
Murillo, who is a high-ranking officer of a chain of banks in Florida
named Government Securities Corporation. From this bank the monies are
filtered to the contra rebels to buy arms in the war in Nicaragua."
Corporate
records show that Murillo -- a Nicaraguan banker and relative of
Blandon's wife -- was a vice-president of Government Securities
Corporation in Coral Gables, a large brokerage firm that collapsed in
1987 amid allegations of fraud. Murillo did not respond to an interview
request.
Despite their intimate knowledge
of Blandon's operations, the police raids were a spectacular failure.
Every location had been cleaned of anything remotely incriminating. No
one was ever prosecuted.
Ron Spear, a
spokesman for Los Angeles County Sheriff Sherman Block, said Blandon
somehow knew that he was under police surveillance. Others thought so,
too.
"The cops always believed that
investigation had been compromised by the CIA," Los Angeles federal
public defender Barbara O'Connor said in a recent interview. O'Connor
knew of the raids because she later defended the raids' leader, Sgt.
Gordon, against federal charges of police corruption. Gordon, convicted
of tax evasion, declined to be interviewed.
FBI
records show that soon after the raids, Blandon's defense attorney,
Bradley Brunon, called the sheriff's department to suggest that his
client's troubles stemmed from a most unlikely source: a recent
congressional vote authorizing $ 100 million in military aid to the
CIA's contra army.
According to a December
1986 FBI Teletype, Brunon told the officers that the "CIA winked at
this sort of thing. . . . (Brunon) indicated that now that U.S.
Congress had voted funds for the Nicaraguan contra movement, U.S.
government now appears to be turning against organizations like this."
That
FBI report, part of the files of former Iran-contra Special Prosecutor
Lawrence Walsh, was made public only last year, when it was released by
the National Archives at the San Jose Mercury News' request.
Blandon
has also implied that his cocaine sales were, for a time, CIA-approved.
He told a San Francisco federal grand jury in 1994 that once the FDN
began receiving American taxpayer dollars, the CIA no longer needed his
kind of help.
"When Mr. Reagan get in the
power, we start receiving a lot of money," Blandon testified. "And the
people that was in charge, it was the CIA, so they didn't want to raise
any (drug) money because they have, they had the money that they
wanted."
"From the government?" asked Assistant U.S. Attorney David Hall.
"Yes,
for the contra revolution," Blandon said. "So we started -- you know,
the ambitious person -- we started doing business by ourselves."
Asked about that, prosecutor Hall said, "I don't know what to tell you. The CIA won't tell me anything."
None
of the government agencies known to have been involved with Meneses and
Blandon over the years would provide the Mercury News with any
information about them.
A Freedom of
Information Act request filed with the CIA was denied on national
security grounds. FOIA requests filed with the DEA were denied on
privacy grounds. Requests filed months ago with the FBI, the State
Department and the Immigration and Naturalization Service have produced
nothing so far.
None of the DEA officials
known to have worked with the two men would talk to a reporter.
Questions submitted to the DEA's public affairs office in Washington
were never answered, despite repeated requests.
Blandon's
lawyer, Brunon, said in an interview that his client never told him
directly that he was selling cocaine for the CIA, but the prominent Los
Angeles defense attorney drew his own conclusions from the "atmosphere
of CIA and clandestine activities" that surrounded Blandon and his
Nicaraguan friends.
"Was he involved with
the CIA? Probably. Was he involved with drugs? Most definitely," Brunon
said. "Were those two things involved with each other? They've never
said that, obviously. They've never admitted that. But I don't know
where these guys get these big aircraft . . . "
That
very topic arose during the sensational 1992 cocaine trafficking trial
of Meneses after Meneses was arrested in Nicaragua in connection with a
staggering 750-kilo shipment of cocaine. His chief accuser was his
friend Enrique Miranda, a relative and former Nicaraguan military
intelligence officer who had been Meneses' emissary to the cocaine
cartel of Bogota, Colombia. Miranda pleaded guilty to drug charges and
agreed to cooperate in exchange for a seven-year sentence.
In
a long, handwritten statement he read to Meneses' jury, Miranda
revealed the deepest secrets of the Meneses drug ring, earning his old
boss a 30-year prison sentence in the process.
"He
(Norwin) and his brother Luis Enrique had financed the contra
revolution with the benefits of the cocaine they sold," Miranda wrote.
"This operation, as Norwin told me, was executed with the collaboration
of high-ranking Salvadoran military personnel. They met with officials
of the Salvadoran air force, who flew (planes) to Colombia and then
left for the U.S., bound for an Air Force base in Texas, as he told me."
Meneses
-- who has close personal and business ties to a Salvadoran air force
commander and former CIA agent named Marcos Aguado -- declined to
discuss Miranda's statements during an interview at a prison outside
Managua in January. He is scheduled to be paroled this summer, after
nearly five years in custody.
U.S. General
Accounting Office records confirm that El Salvador's air force was
supplying the CIA's Nicaraguan guerrillas with aircraft and flight
support services throughout the mid-1980s.
Miranda
did not name the Air Force base in Texas where the FDN's cocaine was
purportedly flown. The same day the Mercury News requested official
permission to interview Miranda, he disappeared.
While
out on a routine weekend furlough, Miranda failed to return to the
Nicaraguan jail where he'd been living since 1992. Though his jailers,
who described him as a model prisoner, claimed Miranda had escaped,
they didn't call the police until a Mercury News correspondent showed
up and discovered he was gone.