The large-scale social unrest forecasted as a result of the poverty and displacement caused by the near-collapse of the coffee industry continues to grow. New Guinea highlanders are reported to be abandoning their plantations; Indian and African smallholders have uprooted their worthless coffee plants; Nicaraguan coffee workers marched on Managua and fourteen of their counterparts from the oppressed state of Chiapas in Mexico were found dead of starvation and dehydration in the Arizona desert, where they had been dumped by the people they had paid to smuggle them into the USA. By 2001, Oxfam had reported that, in real terms, ‘coffee prices are lower than they have ever been’ and that a minimum price mechanism of $1 a pound should be installed – roughly double the prevailing price. The newly formed British Coffee Association of leading roasters dismissed the report’s findings as ‘too short term’, although they conveniently neglected to come up with a long-term alternative.
While there is evidence that ‘Fair Trade’ coffees have had a significant impact on a minority of consumers, the four transnational roasters that dominate the world coffee trade and the six multinational exporters that control 40 per cent of the export trade are unlikely to turn into corporate do-gooders overnight. The central concept of Fair Trade coffee – that the price paid for coffee allows growers to receive a living wage – has also remained of marginal interest to cut-price retailers and bargain-hunting consumers alike. Similarly, ‘shade grown’ and ‘bird-friendly’ coffees – those grown in a more environmentally sensitive way that helps to preserve the local ecosystem and migratory bird life – have found their way onto the shelves in the USA, but the industry as a whole continues to back technologies that bring down the costs of production with scant regard for the social or environmental costs.
The most recent manifestation of this tendency was the announcement that a new Genetically Modified coffee is in development that would allow the ripening of coffee beans on the bushes to be triggered chemically, obviating the need for the labour-intensive process of harvesting the bushes repeatedly by hand as they produce a mixture of flowers, unripe cherries and ripe cherries. By cutting back on labour requirements, the new GM technology threatens primarily the livelihood of producers of high-quality Arabicas. In Brazil, where quality standards are less demanding, one pass with a vast coffee-harvesting machine already does the trick for over half of the coffee grown there. The producers of quality Arabicas are precisely the ones suffering most from the current crisis in the industry, so the prospect of GM coffee is a particularly cruel blow. Those who back the technology say that it will enable poor coffee farmers to control the timing of the harvest and enable them to grow other crops. Detractors point out that it will also enslave them to the use of specific – and expensive – proprietary seeds and chemicals, with no guarantee that they will receive higher prices for their coffee.
The development of GM coffee – which will probably be ready for the market within five years – has been possible because coffee is the single most scientifically scrutinized of foodstuffs. Coffee science is in part research and development, in part a concerted attempt by the industry to combat the attacks made by the medical profession on coffee, and particularly caffeine, its most active ingredient. Funded largely by the transnationals, bulletins extolling the health properties of coffee issue forth from apparently independent scientific bodies, while anti-caffeine scientists and campaigners fight battles for legislation to curb the widespread, unregulated use of the drug, not just in coffee, but also increasingly in soft drinks and ‘energy’ drinks.
The world consumes the equivalent of 120,000 tonnes of pure caffeine per annum, just over half in the form of coffee. Caffeine itself is a white alkaloid with a sufficiently pronounced bitter taste to make its absence noticeable in decaffeinated coffees. It is possible to kill oneself with a caffeine overdose: about ten grams, or the equivalent of a hundred cups of coffee rapidly consumed, will do the trick for an adult, making Balzac’s daily consumption of sixty cups of coffee decidedly risky. Less than 3.5 grams is lethal for children, and early researchers showed that ‘a 1/67 of a grain of caffeine will kill a frog of moderate size’, should you happen to have such a frog that you have ceased to be fond of. Smoking increases the rate at which caffeine is metabolized by the body (smokers therefore experience less effect), whereas drinking decreases it. Caffeine does not counteract the debilitating effect of alcohol although it may give the illusion of so doing. Caffeine intoxication has its own entry in the USA’s Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The diagnostic criteria assume the recent consumption of more than 250mg (50mg less than the daily recommended safe dose), and as well as the usual suspects include gastrointestinal disturbance, muscle twitching, rambling flow of thought and speech, tachycardia or cardiac arrhythmia (palpitations), and psychomotor agitation. They do not include the ‘bilateral burning feet’ and ‘restless leg’ syndromes that have been clinically noted elsewhere. Caffeine intoxication can tip over into caffeine psychosis, which can produce hallucinations: truck drivers in the USA have reported being pursued by balls of white light, which suggests that caffeine psychosis could explain the widespread belief in UFOs in that country. It is also claimed that caffeine ‘is capable of undermining psychological well-being’, although there are individual variations in sensitivity – ‘patients with anxiety disorders may find the normal effects distressing, whilst the non-anxious find them pleasant and stimulating’. Long-term caffeine intoxication, which is called ‘caffeinism’, is more common in psychiatric patients, who in general consume more caffeine than the rest of the population. Caffeine is believed to cause urinary incontinence in the elderly, and has been found (with unknown effects) in the systems of new-born infants who do not have the necessary liver enzyme to metabolize it. There is also evidence to suggest that caffeine can cause osteoporosis as it increases the rate of calcium elimination from the body. On the plus side, caffeine is used to treat neonatal apnoea (cessation of the spontaneous breathing of an infant) and to increase sperm mobility.
It is remarkable that we voluntarily introduce this powerful drug into our systems knowing so little about what it might be doing to us. While the producing countries face ruin, the West, so the gainsayers maintain, has become a dangerously caffeinated society. The cheap, coarse-flavoured Robusta coffees that are dragging world prices down contain twice as much caffeine as higher quality Arabicas. There are the first signs that the effect of the increased use of these Robusta coffees in blends is causing a slowdown in consumption, as coffee drinkers, consciously or unconsciously troubled by the stronger caffeine hit of their usual brew, are drinking less coffee. The impact of health and quality issues on coffee consumption may yet add another problematic dimension to a coffee trade that is already in turmoil.
The explosive growth of the ‘specialty’ coffee market, led by the USA, may represent the only future survival mechanism for a few fortunate farmers. This market maintains its upward momentum largely through the ability of the coffee roasters’ buyers to single out distinguished, high-quality coffee producers in countries of origin. Since the price of ‘commodity’ coffee has been so low for so long, there is a real prospect that even producers of quality Arabicas may be unable to continue in the trade. However, a few coffees may rise from their ranks to become specialty coffees, their historical and gustatory qualities nurtured by buyers and thus be capable of fetching viable prices. Many are called but few are chosen; as a result, the discrepancy between the price that a specialty buyer is willing to pay for such a coffee and the more run-of-the-mill types is increasing. It is feared by many in the trade that this will quickly lead to a two-tier coffee market for producers and consumers alike, one in which the vast majority of coffee is of a low quality – probably Brazilian and Vietnamese – sold competitively to cost-conscious consumers, and a small amount is marketed as a refined, luxury item for the true aficionado. This polarization will weigh particularly heavily on the producers of good-quality but not necessarily very distinguished Arabicas. Thus mainstream Arabica coffees from countries such as Honduras, Ethiopia, or El Salvador are largely ignored by the specialty market because they lack distinction either of flavour or pedigree, and as a result they are forced to compete with Brazil and Vietnam.
Coffee has always marched hand in hand with colonialism through the pages of history. It was once known as the ‘Wine of Araby’, and the trade in coffee was an important component in the creation and consolidation of the Ottoman Empire in the sixteenth century. It was first consumed in the late fifteenth century as a sacred ritual amongst the Sufis in Yemen, whence it quickly spread through Islam. In that religion, despite some initial opposition, it was considered an acceptable stimulant because, unlike the reviled alcohol, it never left the drinker ‘incapable of distinguishing a man from a woman or the earth from the heavens’. The popular coffee houses of Cairo and Constantinople attracted the attention of the first European visitors to the Orient, and eventually coffee itself appeared in most of Europe at the same time as merchants, sailors, and adventurers from that continent were starting to establish, largely through superiority of arms and technology, their fledgling trading empires. Coffee was amongst a number of valuable and desirable oriental goods that they sought, but its supply was effectively under the monopolistic control of Ottomans. By the early eighteenth century the Dutch, the French, and the British had managed to obtain coffee seedlings to take to their own tropical colonial possessions, there to be cultivated under the plantation system worked by slave or near-slave labour. Slavery, with its attendant horrors, persisted as the preferred method of coffee production in many colonies until abolition, or in the case of Brazil until as recently as 1888, by which time coffee had become a thoroughly globalized commodity. The so-called benefits of the colonial plantation system were mainly experienced by the consumers in the home countries of these various European empires, who responded with alacrity to the low price and ready availability of what had formerly been a rare luxury.
Coffee had become universally consumed in the nations of Europe and in the USA, much of it in coffee houses that became meeting places for men of commerce, politics, and culture. The effect of caffeine itself ensured that there were always likely to be lively, well-informed debates and intense, original exchanges, in contrast to the only other public meeting places of the time, the tavern or the church. The coffee house played a pivotal role in the creation of many of the financial institutions that in turn supported the expansionist trading empires that had led to the growth of coffee consumption in the first place. Lloyds of London, the maritime insurance company, emerged from the interests of the clientele of Lloyds Coffee House who gathered there to exchange news and gossip concerning the movement of ships. Coffee was an important commodity shipped from afar, and thus the fledgling insurance business conducted at Lloyds in part provided the financial structure whereby the risks of the coffee trade itself could be mitigated. This feedback loop of cause-and-effect, fuelled by caffeine, underpinned the dramatic rise of capitalism and its most successful offspring, globalization. Coffee lay at the very heart of the triumph of free-market economics in our times: that it is now suffering the awful consequences of that same ethos is ironic, but horribly apt.
With the dieback of former European imperialism, and the increasing assertion of the hegemony of the USA over the western hemisphere, the many coffee-producing countries of Central and South America have found themselves overtaken by US neocolonialism. Many of those countries are deeply dependent on coffee for export income, and because their northern neighbour consumes 25 per cent of the world’s supplies but chooses to buy 75 per cent of its needs from their southern neighbours, inevitably coffee became a significant factor in hemispherical geopolitics. Economies that are historically coffee-based have created the ground rules by which a ruling oligarchy can impose its will on the unrepresented masses. The sweatshop economies of much of Central America and the Caribbean depend upon the political élite’s control of the media and the military apparatus, and the structure of the coffee trade provided the working model. El Salvador, for example, a country which until recently was dependent on coffee for over half its export income, now derives 57 per cent of that from the ‘garment industry’. Arguably, along with the world economy as a whole, the coffee trade has reverted to a paradigm that more closely resembles the height of the European colonialism, albeit now under US domination, than the protectionism that prevailed during the era when strong, liberal, democratic Western nation states allied against the threat of Communism. The fact that the date of the dissolution of the International Coffee Agreement broadly coincided with that of the fall of the Berlin Wall is by no means coincidental: the USA, having vanquished its most serious rival, no longer saw the need to humour its more liberal allies.
The catalytic effect of coffee-house culture on the emergence of those financial and cultural institutions that underpinned the rise of Western capitalism should not be underestimated. The coffee houses of the City of London were the progenitors of such global institutions as the Stock Exchange and Lloyds, and those of Covent Garden and St James’s were the seedbeds of the Royal Society and the Enlightenment. Coffee gradually gave way to tea in England, but the imposition of taxes on tea in the American colonies precipitated the Boston Tea Party, the actual as well as the ideological rejection of tea, and the triumph of coffee in America, where coffee houses became the foremost meeting places for merchants, politicians, and businessmen. The Declaration of Independence was first read publicly outside the Merchant’s Coffee House in Philadelphia, and President-elect George Washington was ceremonially welcomed to New York in front of (another) Merchant’s Coffee House – which had, amongst other things, formerly hosted slave auctions – a week before his inauguration. If he had been able to walk from there but a few hundred yards and a couple of centuries in time he would have come to the Coffee, Sugar and Cocoa Exchange in 4, World Trade Center, which was to be destroyed in the 9/11 attacks masterminded by Osama bin Laden, whose forbears came from Yemen, itself the original home of the coffee trade. One of the purported reasons why the World Trade Center was targeted was because the towers were a symbol of the Western financial institutions that were accused of destroying traditional Islam: coffee played a significant role in the evolution of both.
Coffee is now falling victim to globalization: then, it played an intimate part in its rise.
2
ORIGINS
All theory is grey. Green is the golden tree of life.
GOETHE
Although it is enjoyed daily by a good proportion of the world’s population, very little is generally known about the origins of coffee. There are a number of myths that are ritually aired by the coffee trade to keep the curious at bay, but nothing in the way of substantiated fact is usually presented to the public. To build a satisfactory picture of what happened in the time before coffee bursts upon the historical stage in the sixteenth century requires piecing together disparate elements of anthropology, archaeology, and even theology. Indeed, the search for coffee’s roots takes us back to the roots of man himself.
In 1974, at Hadar in the Afar desert of northern Ethiopia, palaeontologists unearthed the fossil remains of a group of Australopithecus afarensis, mankind’s oldest known ancestor. Despite earlier discoveries of Java Man, Peking Man and others, it seems that Ethiopia is mankind’s original location; genetic research suggests that all modern humans are directly descended from a group of about a hundred and fifty Homo sapiens sapiens who lived in the Ethiopian Highlands some 120,000 years ago. Even the Holy Grail of anthropology, the so-called Missing Link, may well have been found there, for the recent discovery of a fossilized toe of Ardipithecus ramidus kadabba offers the first tentative evidence of the species’ separation from the chimpanzee some six million years ago. Despite its highland forest environment, Ardipethecus ramidus kadabba appears to have walked upright. Previously it had been conjectured that man’s need to stand upright was forced upon him by the evolutionary process to enable him to peer over the high grass of the plains in pursuit of prey. The fact that he appears to have stood upright whilst still confined to the forest has fatally undermined this theory.
One of the other abiding mysteries of anthropology is the so-called brain explosion that probably took place about 500,000 years ago, the result of which was that man’s brain size increased by 30 per cent, principally in the cerebrum, the upper brain where most conscious thinking purportedly takes place. Various theories have been put forward for this, but the development of language would seem to provide the most credible explanation, as language requires a great deal of thought and in turn generates a great deal to think about. Its arrival put mankind in a position, at least in part, to determine the course of his own evolution, allowing him to develop and communicate concepts that had been hitherto literally unthinkable, and to begin to adapt his environment to his needs. It is tempting to wonder whether the proliferation of wild coffee trees in the same Ethiopian highland forests could also have had a hand in the process. Coffee has always been associated with speed of cognition and expression, and the sudden dawn of self-awareness in the Genesis story concerning the forbidden fruit of the ‘Tree of Knowledge’ is something that could have been prompted by a psychoactive substance such as caffeine. Such awareness (or, perhaps, gnosis) is also an attribute of language and thought, without which it is quiescent. To place the bright red coffee cherry centre stage in the story of the Fall is altogether a more inspired piece of casting than the choice of a lowly Golden Delicious; imagine coffee berries driving their eaters into a caffeine-fuelled frenzy of quick-fire contention and ingenious thinking, engines of brain evolution. The previously docile brains of Homo sapiens sapiens would have been ill prepared for such an assault. Likewise the Ethiopian Highlands, with their sumptuous vegetation and spectacular scenery, are a properly marvellous setting for the mythical Garden of Eden. Even today the wild coffee trees grow under the forest canopy on the escarpments of the Rift Valley, their white flowers heavy with a scent close to that of jasmine. The coffee cherries, the stones of which make two coffee beans, ripen in clusters as they grow from green through gold to a rich red colour, which stands out in bold contrast to the smooth, luscious dark green leaves of the tree. They were doubtless suitably tempting to our early ancestors. The description of the Tree of Knowledge contained in the rediscovered Old Testament Book of Enoch could easily suggest the coffee tree, with its depiction of delicious fragrance and clusters of fruit – and that previously missing book, supposedly suppressed because of its salacious content, was unearthed by the eighteenth-century explorer James Bruce in, strange to say, Ethiopia.
At this point it would seem appropriate to introduce this native of Ethiopia, the species Coffea arabica of the sub-genus Eucoffea of the genus Coffea of the family Rubiaceae of the order Rubiales of the sub-class Sympetalae of the class Dicotyledonae of the sub-kingdom Angiospermae from the kingdom of Vegetables. Left to its own devices the Arabica coffee plant can grow up to twenty feet high; its lush, dark-green, ovoid leaves are about six inches long, and it produces small white flowers with the characteristic heady jasmine-like fragrance. The coffee tree usually flowers once in a season, but in some countries where it has been transplanted from its homeland, such as Colombia, it may blossom and produce cherries at various stages of ripeness throughout the year. The flowers are pollinated by insects and the wind, and go on to form ‘drupes’, which are infant coffee berries, and which grow over a period of six months to form bunches of cherries that in many respects resemble the bright red domestic eating cherry.
As perhaps was the case with our putative Adam and Eve, ripe coffee cherries are a tempting proposition to some animals and birds, giving rise to some esoteric practices. Kopi luak is a fine Sumatran coffee, much valued in Japan, made from beans gathered from the dung of Paradoxurus hermaphroditus, the common palm civet, which skulks around the plantations at night selecting only the finest, ripest cherries. The beast digests the skin and the pulp of the cherry, the mucillage and the parchment surrounding the bean, and even the final obstacle, the thin ‘silverskin’. In so doing it achieves exactly what modern ‘wet’ and ‘dry’ processing technology seeks to emulate – that is, the complete separation of the core coffee bean from all its protective layers. The civet cannot digest the hard beans, however, and they pass through its system: they are picked out of the civet’s dung because the flavour imparted by the digestive process is highly prized once the beans are cleaned and roasted. Indian monkeys, parrots, and mongooses are also supposed to subscribe to this recondite method of coffee processing, and their coffee byproducts likewise are said to attract local enthusiasts. Not all such coffees pass entirely through an animal’s system: the spread of coffee cultivation in the Spanish Philippine Islands in the nineteenth century was evidently greatly assisted by Pardasciurus musanga, a small mammal which ate the flesh of the cherries but spat out the bean, which was then ready for germination.
Insects, however, find their enjoyment of the coffee cherry considerably lessened by its caffeine content. While the leaves and flowers of a coffee plant contain slightly less than 1 per cent caffeine by dry weight, the pulp of the cherry contains a little more, and the bean itself around 3 per cent. Nature has so ordered things that the highest levels of caffeine are to be found in the most important part of the plant, its seed. This is because caffeine is nothing more than a natural insecticide, and the high caffeine levels protect the seed from unwanted attention. Hapless insects who ingest too much find that their nervous systems go into overdrive. By the miracle of international trade, the same symptoms can be observed in office workers the world over.
The other species of coffee grown commercially around the world is C. canephora, the best-known variety of which is Robusta. The plant was first spotted by explorers in Uganda in 1862, where it was then used by the native Buganda tribe in a blood-brother ceremony. However, it was not until its rediscovery in the Belgian Congo in 1898 that it was thought worth cultivating. This was after outbreaks of hemileia vastatrix or ‘coffee rust’ had devastated the Arabica coffee plantations of Ceylon and the Dutch East Indies. Robusta coffee is, as the name implies, more robust than its Arabica cousin. It grows at lower altitude (and contains as much as double the amount of caffeine, perhaps in order to deal with the more persistent insects of the tropical lowlands), it tastes coarse and rubbery, and has very little to recommend it other than resistance to disease, which is in itself a recommendation only to planters. It was initially banned from the New York Coffee Exchange as a ‘practically worthless bean’. Being considerably cheaper than Arabica, it can be found in all sorts of less salubrious locations: instant coffee, cheap blends, vending machine coffee and the like. Its harsh flavour and heavy caffeine kick are easily identified. Introduced only a century ago, with the sudden rise to prominence of Vietnam (see chapter 18), it threatens to become a major force in the market, replacing the subtle refined flavours and aromas of Arabica coffee with its pestilential presence. It has some uses in espresso blending, but otherwise it is Arabica coffee’s crude, boorish, sour, uncivilized, black-hearted cousin, and true coffee aficionados rightly give it a very wide berth. No coffee-taster worth his or her salt would seek to maintain that a Robusta coffee was better in flavour terms than all but the worst-produced Arabica: its only merit is its price. Nonetheless, nearly half of the coffee sold in the UK is Robusta, and even in Italy, a country which celebrates its coffee culture like no other, a third of the coffee drunk is Robusta, whilst nearly a quarter of the coffee drunk in the USA is Robusta. The country that has thus far remained most immune to its pernicious influence is Norway, where it is still virtually unknown. Of global coffee consumption today, one-third is of a low-quality coffee variety that scarcely existed a century ago, and the proportion is growing. We are witnessing the triumph of the ‘practically worthless bean’ in our coffee cups. At the same time, ironically, with prices at their current levels of 35 cents per pound, Robusta coffee is even more practically worthless than its Arabica cousin.