with a democratic society. In the words of sociologist HowardnBecker, “The final outcome of a moral cmsade is a police force.”nThis is especially true of federal law enforcement, which isnlargely the creation of successive cmsades and moral panics overnthe last century. In 1900, the Secret Service was virtually thenonly national enforcement agency, and the “Bureau of Investigation”ncreated in 1908 remained a cipher for many years.nEven a society that had reluctantly accepted the idea of policingnstill felt that national agencies would inevitably lead to anform of police state. Matters were changed decisively by a seriesnof morality campaigns, and the bureaucracies they engendered.nIn 1910, the Mann Act was directed against a chimericalnwave of white slavery,,which was to be countered by the activitiesnof federal laws and officials. This would also be thenpattern of antidrug legislation in 1914 (the Harrison Act)nand the 1919 attempt to prohibit alcoholic drink (the VolsteadnAct). In the 1930’s, the FBI had its powers expanded by federalnlaws because of an imagined wave of kidnapping; and thenminuscule Federal Bureau of Narcotics began its war againstnthe alleged horrors of marijuana. Spy and subversion panicsnin subsequent decades permitted the creation of politicalnpolice forces at many levels of American government — federal,nstate, and city.nMore recently, the alleged menace of organized crime andndmg trafficking permitted the enormous expansion of the federalnagencies, armed with the draconian powers laid out in thenOrganized Crime Control Act of 1970. This last was a classicnpiece of “moral panic” legislation, an ill-conceived package ofnmeasures that few dared oppose for fear of appearing to supportnrather than control “organized crime”—a nebulous conceptnthat is nowhere defined in the law itself. While it predatednthe actual drug war, it is only in recent years that the act hasnbeen fully employed. Most devastating have been the extremencriminal penalties and civil sanctions levied against any organizationndeemed to be a “Racketeer Influenced Cormpt Organization”n(RICO). The law has been mthlessly abused by federalnprosecutors, who have employed RICO against a wide andnsomewhat bizarre array of f)olitical targets on right and left, fromnVietnam War protesters to Croat nationalists, Nazi militants.nWeathermen, Teamsters’ locals, and anti-abortion protesters.nThere is in addition a private “RICO bar,” attorneys who soonnnoted the law’s utility in civil litigation and began suits againstnsuch “racketeers” as Morgan Stanley and Shearson Lehman.nNot even the Liberty Lobby in its wildest nightmares ever conceivednthat federal legislation might provide so many weaponsnfor use against private business.nRICO is only one of a battery of laws employed by federalnprosecutors against drug trafficking, and there are in additionna number of state RICO or “drug kingpin” measures, all ultimatelynbased on the 1970 law. Throughout the 1980’s, suchnmeasures passed with astonishing ease, as few legislators werenprepared to be named as opposing “tough” antidrug laws.nDebate, such as it was, often focused on attempts to increasenalready stringent penalties.nMost of these laws shared common underlying principlesnand assumptions, which combine to make the worid ofn”narco-justice” distinctly alien from Anglo-American legalntraditions. Most significant, the defendant is effectively presumednguilty until proven innocent. RICO permits the seizurenof assets prior to conviction, which places overwhelming pressurenon a suspect to come to terms with the prosecutor with­nout going through the inconvenience of a trial. Asset seizurenalso reduces the suspect’s ability to secure adequate legalncounsel. In any case, this right is constantly weakened by thengovernment’s new powers to demand information about thensources of money paid as legal fees. At every stage, traditionalnlawyer-client privilege has been undermined, a blow against anfundamental underpinning of the defendant’s rights. As formernAttorney General Edwin Meese repeatedly stated, societynmust adopt an attitude of “zero tolerance” for dmg offendersn(this policy must be distinguished from the standardsnprevailing in matters of political cormption, where even an actualnconviction seldom dents a career).nTlie principle of pretrial asset seizure has been applied at allnlevels of wealth, from stockbroking firms allegedly involved withnIvan Boesky or Michael Milken, down to public housing tenantsnwho face eviction on suspicion (not conviction) of drugndealing. Naturally, common sense would indicate that suchncases pose a danger of injustice. Due process and the necessitynof proof have customarily been regarded as bulwarks againstnan overmighty executive or the malicious prosecutions ofngreedy neighbors. Is it really that difficult to contemplate a landlordnor neighbor so anxious to remove a tenant that he is preparednto make false charges of narcotics activity? On the othernhand. Justice Department spokesmen reject such objectionsnwith a simple and powerful doctrine. TTie Constitution doesnindeed provide the defendant with rights, such as the presumptionnof innocence and the right to secure counsel of one’snchoice; but the threat posed by drugs and organized crime isnso severe that rights must be suspended in such cases. Constitutionalnprotections do not therefore extend the controversialnor politically charged criminal cases. We are at war, whichnmeans that drugs are special; drugs are different.nDrugs are so different, in fact, that private citizens and corporationsnmust obey the whims and edicts of officialdom, evennwhen they have not troubled to invoke a law like RICO. Thisnwas nicely illustrated by a 1985 incident when U.S. AttorneynRudolph Giuliani was investigating an alleged money-launderingnconspiracy involving the Italian Mafia, the “Pizza Connection.”nThe conspirators were said to have transferred money throughnthe firm of E.F. Hutton, which duly notified its clients that theynhad received subpoenas in this matter. Federal authorities werenoutraged that the firm had contacted its clients “contrary tonthe specific request of the United States government.” Normally,nprivate concerns are assumed to have obligations to theirnclients, which can be overridden only by legal warrants andninjunctions. In this case, the word of the prosecutor is assumednto be law, and disobedience verges on lese majeste. There isnan old maxim that “the will of the prince has the force of law”;nbut it has not hitherto been popular in this country.nSo drugs are different: they provide a bogeyman that persuadesncourts and legislators to accept draconian “wartime”nincursions into personal liberty, justified by the necessity to combatnthe alleged moral danger. Again, this is not a new phenomenon.nIf we consider the leading Supreme Court decisionsnin the area of personal rights and liberties over the last century,nwe find that cases commonly arise from moral crusades overnissues like drink, drugs, and pornography. The Olmsteadnwiretapping case of 1928 concerned bootleggers; most of thenlandmark search and seizure cases of the last quarter of a centurynultimately stem from drug arrests and so on. A crusade’nthus creates conflicts that reshape the law and the Constitutionnjust as irrevocably as it reorients policing. Emergency “wartime”nnnMAY 1992/15n