OCTOBER 28, 2009
To the FDA, This Indonesian Smoke Is Close but No Cigar
With Ban on Clove Cigarettes, Importer Claims Its Product Is All Stogie
By BARRY NEWMAN
Cloves are popular in Indonesia, above. Importer Kretek
International wants its product
declared a cigar to get around a ban in the U.S.
ALEXANDRIA, Va. -- Sometimes a cigar is just a cigar -- unless the Food and
Drug Administration and a congressional committee think it might be a cigarette.
The cigar (or cigarette) in question is called a kretek. Kreteks are cigarettes
that blend tobacco and cloves. Billions are smoked in Indonesia, wreathing that
country in the scent of studded oranges. A few weeks ago, though, clove
cigarettes were banned in the U.S. on the grounds that their fragrance is a
come-on to children.
It was the FDA's first act under a law giving it the power to police tobacco.
But as soon the clove-cigarette edict went out, a California kretek importer
brought in a new line of clove cigars.
Djarum-brand cigars are the shape and size of cigarettes. They have filters.
Their wrappers contain tobacco but could pass for brown paper. The puffery on
the packs promises "a smoking experience you have come to expect."
Getting wind of this, the FDA reminded the public that its ban applies to
anything that fits a cigarette's profile, even if it's labeled as a "cigar."
And the House Committee on Energy and Commerce announced an investigation to
find out whether the "flavored cigars are no different than flavored
cigarettes."
Immediately, Kretek International Inc., the closely held importer in Moorpark,
Calif., sued the FDA, accusing it of "deliberately obfuscating" the "definition
of cigarette."
"If a product is a cigar, it is not a cigarette and vice versa," says its
complaint. "Kretek contends that Djarum cigars are cigars."
The company has asked the U.S. District Court in Washington for a declaratory
cigar-is-a-cigar judgment. The FDA declines comment and has yet to file a
response. Without legal guidance, meanwhile, America's clove-conscious now have
to judge for themselves whether Djarum's new cigars, deep down, are concealing
an alter ego.
At the Indonesian restaurant he owns here in Alexandria, Sonny Setiantoko
passed one under his nose. "That smell!" he said.
On a quiet Monday night, he sat at a rear table after a spicy meal of satay and
coconut rice. Born in Java, he smoked his first kretek at the age of 14. Coming
to the U.S. in 1994, at 24, he switched to Camels, then soon quit smoking. Now
he was lighting up a Djarum "Splash."
"Hear that crackle?" said Mr. Setiantoko. "That's why we call them kretek. It's
the sound." He took a drag and inhaled. "This is really authentic," he said.
"Makes me think of my childhood, going fishing. I feel like I'm not in America.
Crazy, huh?" Mr. Setiantoko studied the object between his fingers and said,
"This is a cigar?"
A clove
Cloves are dried buds from trees in the Molucccas, once called the Spice
Islands, in eastern Indonesia. Columbus was after cloves when he bumped into
America and was given some tobacco by people he met there. Nobody combined the
two until a Javanese man rolled a clove cigarette in the 1880s, hoping it would
ease his asthma.
It didn't, but the mixture was a hit anyway. A century later, Indonesia had
millions of kretek smokers. About 30 years ago, the industry began to export.
In the U.S., kreteks went over big with sullen adolescents. Sales rose past
$100 million, roughly in tandem with nose rings and black hair dye.
As tobacco bills moved through Congress, early drafts made no mention of
cloves. But in 2006, R.J. Reynolds Tobacco Co. brought out some new brands --
"Winter Mocha-Mint," "Kauai Kolada" -- that looked kid-friendly. Outrage
ensued, and Reynolds withdrew them. A ban on flavors, from licorice to grape,
stayed in the final bill.
Cloves made the list, too. With Reynolds out of the game, they were the only
big flavor left -- except for the 90 billion menthol cigarettes Americans buy
in a year. But a menthol ban, congressional aides and tobacco activists say
now, would have ignited a huge bootlegging crisis. So the law exempts menthol.
That leaves clove heads facing kretek cold turkey on their own.
They number 1.2 million, by Kretek International's calculation, averaging five
smokes a week. It comes to less than a tenth of 1% of U.S. cigarette
consumption. For high-schoolers, kreteks are one of those "short-term fads that
have not caught on with mainstream American youth," according to a 2006
University of Minnesota survey that traced a 40% drop in 12th-grade clove
smokers since 2001.
Apart from Indonesian expatriates and Americans who travel abroad, the kretek
market is fleshed out by aging body-piercers and the occasional neophyte like
Connie Faye Richardson.
Ms. Richardson, who lives in Grandbury, Texas, sent Kretek International a
pained email on the ban's eve: "I bought all they had in the store today," she
wrote. Reached by phone, she was reluctant to see her name in print. "My mom
would have a fit about me smoking," she said. "She's a great mom, but she's
stern."
Then Ms. Richardson said: "I'm 61 years old, so I can choose to tell my mother
or not -- and I want a clove so bad I can't stand it!"
She began smoking five years ago -- Virginia Slims. A niece told her about
cloves, and she switched. Now her stash was almost gone. "Last night," said Ms.
Richardson, "I half-smoked one, and I put it out. I only have that half. What
am I going to do?" Told of Kretek's cigar, she said: "But a cigar's not a
cigarette, right?"
Possibly, but what else is there?
You could roll your own. There's lots of clove-grinding advice on the Web
already; one blogger expects hand-rolled kreteks to be "all the rage among
hipsters." You could buy direct from Indonesia: A recent Internet order arrived
promptly, if illegally, identified for customs as a "booklet." Or you could
wait for Indonesia to file -- and win -- a threatened complaint to the World
Trade Organization, claiming U.S. clove discrimination in favor of menthol.
Given the choices, Kretek International's noncigarette may be the best bet. The
company insists it can prove that its cigar is a cigar: The wrapper is
homogenized leaf, the tobacco air-cured, and the finished product comes in
boxes of 12, not 20. While a judge puts the subject through analysis, America's
clove aficionados will be holding their breath.
Matt Eden was on his roof deck in Washington not long ago, flipping open a
fresh pack of Djarums. He is 24, spent a summer in Java, and has a job at the
United States-Indonesia Society. It was sunset. At a mosque on his street, the
call to prayer was sounding.
"This is the moment to have a kretek," he said, lighting up. "There's the
crackle. And that smell!" He sat on a folding chair and blew a smoke plume.
"I'm back in Indonesia," said Mr. Eden. "This is a fine replacement for a
cigarette. I really hope it's a cigar."
Write to Barry Newman at [email protected]
Printed in The Wall Street Journal, page A30
http://online.wsj.com/article/SB125660066262509223.html
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