- Culture
- 10 Dec 15
He was once the world’s most famous drug dealer. Later, his face graced record sleeves and his memoirs inspired a hit movie. Now Howard Marks is battling terminal cancer and getting through the day one joint at a time. In a rare public appearance, the self- proclaimed “Mr Nice” talks about the highs, and occasional lows, of life as an international cannabis dealer – and explains how the spectre of death has shown him the meaning of life.
Oxford-educated physicist, acclaimed writer and former international drug smuggler Howard Marks – a man who once operated under 43 different aliases as he controlled an alleged 10% of this planet’s cannabis supply – is a living legend. So it’s little surprise that the main hall of the RDS is stuffed as he appears for a public inquisition.
A massive crowd has turned out for this Hot Press interview on the Sunday afternoon of the inaugural Metropolis Festival. Even Irish Drugs Minister Aodhán Ó Ríordáin is happy to shake the hand of the million-selling Mr Nice author backstage, and then tweet about it afterwards.
Sadly, it won’t be too long before the wily Welshman will simply be an icon. Diagnosed with inoperable bowel cancer last year, he apparently doesn’t have all that much longer to live. Given the fascinating existence he has led to date, he can at least console himself that he hasn’t wasted his 70 years on this Earth – although he has happily and self-admittedly spent the vast majority of them significantly wasted.
An indomitable spirit, Howard is still hanging in there. He has just published his sixth book, Mr Smiley, a memoir that details his post-prison misadventures in the ecstasy trade. Amongst other ongoing creative projects, there’s also a new documentary and an album of Dylan Thomas recordings in the works.
It’s less of a shock to see him than anticipated. He’s skinny now – but was never overweight to begin with. The trademark Keith Richards hairstyle has been reduced to a greying crop by repeated bouts of chemo, and the wrinkle-count has increased, but otherwise he’s pretty much the same as ever. Wearing a colourful Popes t-shirt, he’s more interested in talking about the current health status of a famous Irish rock star than he is about his own well being.
Hot Press has been an admiring friend of this dynamite character for almost two decades now. Things being as they so sadly are, if we never get a chance to meet again, this interview will be considered – by me, at least – our fond farewell.
If we do get a chance to hang out in the future, the drinks will be on me. As ever, Howard will take care of all other party supplies. It would be ridiculous to have it any other way…
OLAF TYARANSEN: Ladies, gentlemen and various undercover Drug Squad detectives – I’d like to introduce you to the inimitable Howard Marks (Howard walks on stage to huge applause). How are you?
HOWARD MARKS: I’m very well actually… very well.
You look a lot better than I’d expected.
Oh, thank you. I feel a lot better than I expected (grins).
You’ve just published your sixth book, Mr Smiley…
Yes.
I was reminding Howard earlier that in the mid-'90s, when he was running for election in the UK for cannabis legalisation, myself and a legal expert called Tim Murphy were also running in Ireland. Tim and I spent a night in Howard's flat. I woke up with a terrible hangover and in the bathroom was a bottle of paracetamol, so I took two pills – and missed my flight home – because it wasn’t paracetamol!
You nicked my ecstasy! (smiles).
Well, you see, you didn’t tell me that when you came out of prison, after getting off a 25- year stretch, you started smuggling ecstasy immediately. Was that not a bad idea?
No (laughs). But it didn’t work out. I ended up having to destroy the entire load. I suppose in a sense it was a bad thing to do. But it was a wonderful experience. I don’t regret it.
Mr Smiley implies that the [smuggling] scene had changed totally by the time you got out.
It had changed completely. One couldn’t be sure of purity. There were lots of what seemed to be dark sides moving into it.
You were dealing with a more hardcore criminal than before.
Yes. I expected that, in a way. If I had gone back to cannabis smuggling I would have been dealing with a harder core of criminal. The hippy peace and love thing was long gone.
There are sections in the book where you’re basically afraid for your life. But, still no regrets?
No, no regrets. I don’t think you can regret anything if you feel okay. I feel happy and okay now, so I can’t possibly regret anything that brought me to this position.
Do you prefer the high of an ecstasy pill as compared to a smoke of good Cannabis?
I don’t find them mutually exclusive (laughs)! I suppose ecstasy is the more powerful drug and is probably a deeper experience than just a puff on a joint. I smoke joints all day and take ecstasy occasionally. On that basis, the preference is obviously for hash.
The new book is called Mr Smiley, but it’s not a smiley read.
No, it’s not trying to make it all fun or anything. It wasn’t. It’s a bit dark isn’t it?
It’s very dark, actually. I picked up a lot of paranoia, a lot of insecurity. And in the background, a lot of regret about the family…
Oh yes, yes, I mean I became a worse and worse father, you know?
Well, being banged up for that length of time…
Makes you a pretty bad dad anyway!
Do you feel you have rectified that situation now?
I think they feel that, to some extent, you know? My children.
Are you over and back to Majorca?
Very rarely. Most of my children spend their time not in Spain but in the UK.
Mr. Smiley ends in 2000, but the last 15 years have been pretty eventful as well.
Yes... but very straight.
Your first book, Mr Nice, has been turned into a movie, sold a million copies – it must be interesting when your photograph is in every Tube station.
Well, I like all that.
I know, but when you’re also in the middle of a serious criminal enterprise…
I like all that, too! (Laughs)
So is celebrity a good cover?
Yes!
In terms of money – you have made and blown millions. I read a quote from you recently where you said it’s a bad idea to accrue money because it leads to irritating demands for loans and investments.
Yes, it does. What used to happen a lot was someone would say, “Oh Howard can you possibly lend me ten grand? I’ve got this great idea for a restaurant somewhere.” So I’d happen to have ten grand and I'd give it. Then the same person would come back and would say, “Yeah, I underestimated a bit what I should have borrowed from you, I should have borrowed twenty really. Any chance of another ten?” And I might not have it then. I might be owing two million quid or something. So I’d have to say, “No, I can’t give it to you,” and then I’ve let them down in their hour of need. As for investing in anyone else’s fantasy, that’s obviously a complete fucking waste of time.
The authorities pretty much got everything: your bank accounts in Switzerland, bank accounts in Hong Kong and in the UK.
Oh yeah, when you’re banged up for seven years they work hard.
Did they miss anything at all?
No, no they took the lot.
Why didn’t you just bury it like any good smuggler?
I don’t know – I’d rather spend it. One’s debts get forgotten. Everyone that owed me money breathed a sigh of relief when I got banged up for 25 years. That’s one debt that they can forget about.
You have a physics degree from Balliol College in Oxford. I understand that they looked after your family very well when you were banged up?
They did indeed. They lent money for my children’s education; they looked after me very well in so many ways. It was the first debt I repaid. Once I made ten grand out of the News of the World, I paid off Balliol College.
You haven’t missed a reunion there either?
No, and they’re held every seven years. Given that I was incarcerated for six and two-thirds years, it was quite difficult to make each reunion... but I have managed it.
What has been the greatest moment of your eventful life?
Well, two spring to mind. One is taking ecstasy with my kids, which I can thoroughly recommend to every parent. (Laughs and cheers from audience). The other is getting acquitted at the Old Bailey of bringing in 15 tonnes of Colombian when I was obviously guilty. (Laughs)
That was in 1982? You basically paid off this corrupt official to come and testify on your behalf.
He’s Mexican.
The Mexican guy, yeah. Actually, have you watched Breaking Bad?
No. Obviously it’s recommended. That’s largely the reason that I haven’t watched it. I didn’t want to give in to this peer pressure of sitting through Breaking Bad.
When you walked out of the London courtroom in 1982 knowing that you’d fucked them over completely, did you feel the temptation to put the two fingers up – or did you just get the fuck out of the country?
I had another charge to face, of false passports or something. I didn’t walk into freedom. I took the acquittal as a direct message from God, really, to carry on smuggling.
As you recount it in Mr Smiley, when you got released from Terre Haute after serving six years of a 25-year sentence and you flew back into the UK, the first thing that you did was to break the terms of your bail condition and fuck off to Spain.
No. I know it’s presented like that but with extradition you have to be repatriated to the country that you were extradited from. So I was allowed to go to Spain.
The 2010 movie Mr Nice, starring Rhys Ifans... were you happy with it?
Very happy. I didn’t have any creative input into it at all, much to the relief of everyone involved. An awful lot was left out, of course. It’s a very different discipline, making a movie as opposed to writing a book…
Has former smuggling associate Jim McCann seen the movie?
Oh, I’m sure. I’m in, I suppose I should say, indirect contact with him…
Jim McCann was Howard’s IRA contact who was smuggling the drugs through Shannon Airport back in the ’80s.
When it was part of every good left-wing agenda!
There’s a new film happening as well…
Yes. That is a documentary and it will be entirely the truth. There won’t be any cinematic techniques or anything like that. It’s still being shot; they’re probably going to include this [public interview] in it. It’s in postproduction before production is finished.
You’ve also just recorded an album of Dylan Thomas’s poetry.
It was my management's idea to put some of Dylan’s writing to music. I wasn’t in favour of the idea because to me Dylan is rhythmic enough in his voice; he doesn’t need any musical accompaniment. But I gave in and did a version of 'Fern Hill' and 'Death Shall Have No Dominion'. They were played on Radio 6 and went down very well. Management was right, I was wrong.
As we speak marijuana is being legalised in many places – including several American states. What’s your feeling on that?
There is no other option. I have to add the caveat that I’ve thought that for 50 years and I’ve been wrong for 50 years. But yes, I’m absolutely convinced it will be legalised.
You’re looking well but what’s the story with your illness?
A year ago I was diagnosed with terminal bowel cancer, which means I’ll die from it. It can take some time and I’m under massive chemotherapy doses which keeps my probability of living another year to 50%. It maintains it to that level as long as I subject myself to the hardest drugs I’ve ever taken in my life. Luckily I’m used to comedowns and stuff like that! I can deal with it better than most. It’s pretty hardcore. However, I haven’t had a moment’s depression since my diagnosis. I see cancer as a way of living rather than a way of dying, and once I made that switch in perception I was alright. A third of the world has it, or will have it, so it’s rapidly becoming a way of living for everyone. Not that insurance companies have caught up yet!
How is that affecting your productivity?
Well, it lessens it by quite a bit. There’s only about a week a month, about 25% of time, that I’m capable of doing even this – even an interview. So productivity has definitely gone down. I hope the quality has increased.
As a physicist, are there parallel universes? Do you believe in life after death?
I believe in life after death, very definitely. I don’t believe that the personality will continue any more than my flesh and blood. This just happens to be what I believe, I have no evidence for it. I just assume that life after death means I’m a very, very, very, very small part of the universe, and I’m happy with that.
I’m going to put it out to the audience. Has anybody got any questions?
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Howard, have you got any advice for an up-and-coming drug smuggler?
Yes, I do have some advice. I think the best thing to do, first of all, is just to chuck a brick into the nearest police station and see what it’s like to get busted. Realise that there is a strong chance of getting busted, and realise that you’ll never, ever grass anybody out. That’s more important, the lack of betrayal. Or did you want more specific advice like, “Buy a salvage tank”? (laughs)
AUDIENCE MEMBER: You seem absolutely with it and grounded. I’m just wondering how did you keep it so together for 25 years, buying dope?
I don’t think I did – I got caught and sentenced to 25 years in prison! It was very, very disorganised crime. When I came to write Mr Nice I couldn’t remember a fucking thing! The only way I could get a book together was through the Freedom Of Information Act – get all the evidence against me. They knew what I was doing!
AUDIENCE MEMBER: How did you actually get through it?
The money or the dope? I don’t know, I didn’t find it difficult. It was my fate, my destiny.
DONAL SCANNELL: Howard, I have two questions for you. Number one: the first chapter in your book, Mr Nice , is called Ballinaskelligs 1. I used to holiday in Ballinaskelligs as a child and when you made a call through to Ballinaskelligs 1, the little old lady in the post office... Do you know that she was famous in Ballinaskelligs for listening to everybody’s phone calls?
Yes, but just as well she did because if I was looking for some people she’d say, “Oh yes, they arrived last night.” She was a wonderful source of information.
SCANNELL: The second question is: why do you think people want to / need to get high?
Because their lives are so miserable. We all need a break from sanity, occasionally. I mean, it’s just wonderful stuff. It’d be so silly not to take drugs.
OT: I’m gonna bounce a few drugs off you and get your take. Marijuana, we already know. Ecstasy?
Yes.
Cocaine?
Yes.
Heroin?
I have taken heroin a few times in my life. But only to maintain my position as a drug expert.
Ok, LSD?
LSD, yes. Most of it before it was illegal.
What about head shop drugs, like Meow Meow?
Generally, I don’t take to them. I’ve nothing against them. I tried some of them. But I feel a big question mark about them, because I don’t really know what they’re going to do. Bit of a chicken when it comes to drugs.
How about super-skunk and the really strong hydroponic stuff?
Well, I shouldn’t say this publicly.
Oh, please do!
Ok, I will obviously now. I took a hell of a lot of the strongest possible cannabis oil, because I’d read that they had some sort of anti-tumour effect. “I’ll beat these fucking tumours, I’ll take seven-month’s supply”... which I did in one hit. It was the strongest possible, because I made it. Definitely the strongest possible. Along with every other complementary and alternative therapy that existed, from apricot seeds to all kinds of things. And got sectioned.
You also attacked a cop when that happened, I believe.
Yes, I did.
Which is very uncharacteristic of you.
I know (sighs). I just became totally violent. Swinging into the cops and started smacking them across the head. Behaving very uncharacteristically. Now whether that’s due to having cancer, the stress, the strain, the apricot seeds or the skunk, I don’t know. Or sort of an unhealthy, odd chemical combination of the lot. But I was sectioned for three days and put into a loony bin for two weeks.
Was that a particularly low point?
No. I mean, I suppose being put into the loony bin, I thought I’d been imprisoned. It was a delirium.
Would it be a nightmare for you waking up and thinking, ‘Fuck, I’m still in prison’? Does that haunt you?
I wake up sometimes now thinking I don’t have cancer. Although I do have it still. But the nightmare of waking up in prison, I’m sure everyone who spent some time in prison has that nightmare. I’ve had it several times. I still have it, even though it’s I think quite unlikely now. I’m more likely to wake up in intensive care than the fucking nick.
You mentioned in the book that when prisoners come out, after they’ve been locked up for a long time, they’re so used to flat surfaces, that they actually can’t walk down streets, they start to lose their balance.
That happened to me quite strongly. You lose your sense of orientation, because you’re always in the same place. You’re not used to uneven surfaces. I live on a cobbled street in Leeds: that gives me problems. I think it’s a common effect of institutions.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: I’m the very famous Charlie McNally and your good buddy from Wales, Mike Taylor, said to send you his love.
Well, thank you.
McNALLY: You must’ve been the one who flew over the cuckoo’s nest?
No, I dropped in there for a while. Only long enough to lay an egg!
McNALLY: I had throat cancer 16 years ago and survived, I had no chemo, no radiation. I had a heart attack this year, I survived and I learnt one thing, God is not a man. God is a woman.
More likely to be a woman, than a man, I would agree there yes. Though I must say, you know, rather than just agree with you, thinking about it I get a bit uneasy about an anthropomorphic god.
McNALLY: Well, personally I subscribed to Richard Dawkins, you know, there is no God.
I know him. Well, I met him a few times.
McNALLY: Anyway, one last thing: you are an inspiration to our generation.
Oh, thank you.
MCNALLY: It’s not a compliment, it’s a fact.
(Huge round of audience applause)
Thank you.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: I just want to know, how did the IRA combination come about?
What combination?
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Yourself and the IRA, I’m very intrigued.
OT: He’s wondering about how a Welsh drugs smuggler got on with the IRA, with these hardcore republicans.
Oh, I see. Well, it was a common part of a left- wing agenda in the ‘60s. Show sympathy for the Catholic minority in Northern Ireland – that is part of every left wing thinker’s political agenda. Harold Wilson sent British troops into Ireland in 1969 to defend the Catholics. Basically the same side as the IRA, before they became terrorists, I’ve got no time for terrorists whatsoever, they can all fuck off as far as I’m concerned (applause). I mean anyone that sort of kills innocent people, or even risks their lives, is not a friend of mine. I can’t subscribe to that at all. But it really wasn’t like that, then. So, that’s my excuse. And I thought, you know, bringing dope into Ireland, could only benefit everyone involved. I mean, what’s the alternative? Bringing in arms?
AUDIENCE MEMBER: What’s the worst thing you’ve done while high?
The worst thing I’ve done when I got high? I’ve done nothing I think is bad. I can’t think of anything that I’m ashamed of that I’ve done when I’m high. I’ve done some daft things of course. Like lighting a note thinking it was a joint when it was given to me to sniff a line of coke, for example. I’ve done really stupid things!
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Will you continue to get high forever?
Yes.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Is Bez still the only person to out-smoke you?
Bez can outdo me on any drug whatsoever. Normally I can slaughter the average reggae band in a joint-smoking competition. Bez, I can never beat in any drug whatsoever.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: A majority of surveys say, that intelligent people take more drugs.
That what?
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Smarter people take higher percentage of drugs than [people of] lower intelligence. Do you think it’s true?
I have no idea to be honest. I know plenty of intelligent people who do take drugs, and plenty of real fucking idiots who take them. I don’t think it’s divided by IQ. I remember when I started taking drugs in Oxford, it was almost a privilege of the middle class student community. The postman wasn’t taking it, the plumber wasn’t taking it. Now, every fucker’s taking it. It’s very, very different. You no longer have to have a label of intelligence to take drugs.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Have you ever had an internal moral monologue regarding your involvement with the IRA, and maybe how you may have benefitted them?
No, because you see, my IRA contact – for lack of a better word – is the only person in the history of the world who has been disowned by the IRA. I mean they didn’t even disown Margaret Thatcher, you know (laughter). Jim McCann is the only person that the IRA has felt the need to say, “He’s not one of us!” He might have been blagging the whole thing. He was able to smuggle drugs in by pretending he was an IRA guy... that’s the most likely explanation and the one that gives me the most comfort.
You had dealings with the Mafia in New York as well…
Yeah, but you understand them. They’re easy to understand, there have been enough TV programmes. They’re all right to deal with... you don’t rip them off, obviously. But they’re all right.
Actually, as mentioned in Mr Smiley, there was this major conference of major league drug dealers in Barcelona in ’86. Why didn’t you go?
I wasn’t invited. I would’ve liked to have gone, I knew people who went there, obviously.
Was that because they were going, “Ok, we’re moving into pills now, and away from cannabis”?
Marijuana has accompanied every change in its genre, from music to every change in drug habit. It was always there. I don’t think it was a movement away from that. I think I might have been regarded as a bit too much of an old dope smoking hippie to be of any use.
You never really had a ‘gang’ as such, did you?
No, I’ve never belonged to any kind of organisation in my life and never intend to. I don’t like gangs. We had problems with gangsters, but I don’t like gangs.
Were 17 people busted alongside you when it all went down?
More actually. That’s what they call the ‘Howard Marks cartel’. Half of them I hadn’t even fucking met. It says 600 people were working for me. I don’t even know 600 people.
I’d say you probably know about 6,000 people, Howard…
Well, I know more now. That’s more through my writing career.
The first time you surfaced in popular culture after your bust was when the Super Furry Animals put you on the cover of their debut album.
Yes, it’s entirely due to them.
Outside of smuggling, what has been the nicest moment of your near 20-year celebrity career?
I’d say something like meeting Irvine Welsh. Things like that have been wonderful. I’ve met proper, good writers. That’s a blessing.
Well, you’re a pretty proper good writer yourself.
No, I’m just a fucking joke (laughs).
AUDIENCE MEMBER: You’ve got the name Mr Nice. Have you ever considered yourself as being a Mr Nasty in terms of people owing you drug debts?
I’ve been called Mr Nasty several times. I think the first person who ever called me – was it Mary Harney?
On The Late Late Show?
Oh yeah, yeah, you were there, Olaf, weren’t you?
We were on The Late Late Show one night in 1996 and Mary Harney had a go at Howard saying, “I don’t think he’s Mr Nice, I think he’s Mr Nasty!”
That sort of thing used to be said a lot.
Do you remember the cops were called that night as well?
Ah yeah, yeah. That was my fault, because I admitted to Gay Byrne I was carrying dope. (laughter and applause)
What actually happened, was we – well, Howard – threw this big lump of dope into a waste paper basket in the green room before we went out. The cops were there and they were kind of, ‘Oh, how’re ye?’ and then they just drove off. So we went back into the green room, got the drugs and went off and smoked them.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: You said that you still take ecstasy pills. Who would you take them with? Would you go clubbing on the weekends?
I wouldn’t fall in love with a stranger. I don’t like ecstasy for that sort of thing. I’d probably take them with my kids or close friends.
AUDIENCE MEMBER: Would you go at it all night or all weekend?
I’d stay up all weekend. Yeah.
I’ll just ask one final question: Howard, what is the greatest lesson you have learnt in your life?
Not to take myself seriously.