The following is not meant to
be a piece of expert opinion,
but some wild thoughts of an
individual (myself) on the
ongoing alarm caused by bird
flu.
Someone give me an answer,
please. In a bird flu season,
what can we do if we don't have
the luck to get the Tamiflu
drug? Can we instead have more
meals cooked with Star Aniseeds,
the drug's main material?
We have all heard about
Tamiflu, reportedly the only
major anti-bird flu drug that is
available on Earth. As
individuals in rich countries,
and in rich cities of developing
countries, are stockpiling the
drug in their homes, we are told
that the world simply does not
have the capability to
manufacture enough of it in a
short time.
Implicitly, those who cannot
get hold of Tamiflu, either
because they cannot afford it or
because they are unlucky while
waiting for the supply, just
have to die, or at least run a
greater risk of losing their
lives.
According to various sources,
a full scale pandemic could cost
China and Southeast Asia 4.5
million deaths and as much as
US$150 billion to US$200
billion.
Every day, people are reading
about the disease spreading to
Europe, and talking about it
spreading to Africa, where lives
are the least protected. And
there is a chance that the virus
could mutate, take some new
shapes and properties, and
become even more threatening.
But few people have heard of
Star Anise, or Star Aniseeds,
which Chinese call "bajiao," or
Eight-Angled Seeds, and
traditionally use as a spice in
oriental cooking. The chief
ingredient of Tamiflu, called
Shikimic Acid, is extracted from
Star Aniseeds through a process
patented by Roche Holding AG,
the Swiss pharmaceutical
company.
Last night, on Google's
English news search, I got only
123 results for "aniseed; flu"
as against 45,700 results for
"bird flu." That, as a
proportion, is a meagre 0.2 per
cent.
The comparison speaks for
itself. Obviously, the global
press has far greater enthusiasm
for spreading fear than useful
information. And by spreading
fear, the press is in effect
helping pharmaceutical
companies, global and local,
generate the ever-growing demand
for their products.
I didn't get to know the
crucial role of Star Aniseeds
until I stumbled on a report
about a Taiwan health official
declaring the island had
developed its own Tamiflu
equivalent, and had succeeded in
only six months to achieve what
Roche had achieved in 12 years.
How many consumers would
seriously consider buying a
modern medicine developed in
only six months? I wondered.
But the story does not end
just there. Taiwan is not the
only place to ignore the Roche
patent, it seems. According to
the Indian Express, Cipla, an
Indian drug maker, recently also
claimed to be nearly ready to
launch its own version of
Tamiflu, after already securing
the material supply from China.
What intrigues me even more
is that Star Aniseeds were not
just a stock in the old-style
Chinese kitchen. The star-shaped
dark brown little fruits were
also used as a medical herb to
cure infection and aches, for at
least six centuries.
If, as one may interpret the
claims from Taiwan and India,
something can be done in such a
short time to turn the raw Star
Aniseeds into a modern
commodity, its process might not
be utterly complicated. And if,
as one can derive from the
economic logic, pharmaceutical
companies are all chasing their
own monopolies, they must not
like the idea of anyone curing a
disease by using a natural
resource directly, as the
ancient medicine men would have
suggested.
But since it has been known
for such a long time that the
raw Star Aniseeds have a curing
effect, and that any short, if
not hasty, attempts to make
modern medicines would involve
untold hazards, a safer way to
use them might just be to use
them without the industrial
process, as a herb or as a
spice.
However, what a pity that
today there is not a single
modern scientist to tell us
whether this is doable - when
many Chinese, having got the
information that I got, are
doing it anyway.
If it is doable, having a
daily pot of stewed chicken (but
never a sick one) spiced with
Star Aniseeds would be a much
tastier, and more affordable
alternative for a developing
society.
And any country can import
some seeds of the plant, or
order some shipments of the
dried fruits from China. They
will never cost a king's ransom.
