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 barry.new...@wsj.com
Printed in The Wall Street Journal, page A30

http://online.wsj.com/article/SB125660066262509223.html

Copyright 2009 Dow Jones & Company, Inc. All Rights Reserved.






      

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