Bush war on Roquefort raises a stink in France

Roquefort-Sur-Soulzon, France: This seems an unlikely spot to fight a trade war.

A village of 600 souls in a remote part of southern France, Roquefort clings precariously to the side of Combalou Rock, a promontory overlooking a deep valley where sheep graze in shadows of limestone cliffs sheared off by a seismic jolt in prehistoric times.

But the primal shake also carved out aerated underground crevasses that give a unique economic value to this jagged landscape about 104km northwest of Montpellier.

They make possible a gastronomical wonder that has delighted gourmets for centuries - Roquefort cheese.

And now, in an era of globalised competition for trade, the smelly delicacy and its little home town have become ground zero for the warriors of export-import in Washington.

The United States, it turns out, has declared war on Roquefort cheese. In its final days, the Bush administration imposed a 300 per cent duty on Roquefort, in effect closing off the US market.

Americans, it declared, will no longer get to taste the creamy concoction that, in its authentic, most glorious form, comes with an odour of wet sheep and veins of blue mould that go perfectly with rye bread and coarse red wine.

The measure, announced January 13 by US Trade Representative Susan Schwab as she headed out the door, was designed as retaliation for a European Union ban on imports of US beef containing hormones. Tit for tat, and all perfectly legal under World Trade Organisation rules, US officials explained.

Besides, they said, Roquefort is only one of dozens of European luxury products that were attacked with high tariffs.

The list includes, among other things, French truffles, Irish oatmeal, Italian sparkling water and "fatty livers of ducks and geese," which apparently is how Washington trade bureaucrats say foie gras.

But the cheese producers and sheep farmers around Roquefort do not see it that way.

Only Roquefort got hit with such a high duty that it amounts to a ban, they complain.

In their view, this unfairly undermines not only the economy of Roquefort, which depends entirely on cheese, but also the well-being of the 4,500 people who herd special ewes on 2,100 farms producing milk for Roquefort in a carefully defined oval grazing area across the Larzac Plain and up and down nearby hills and valleys.

"This measure is completely out of proportion," said Robert Glandieres, a sheep farmer who heads the Regional Federation of Ewe Raisers' Unions. "It's a little bit of a provocation."

If so, it would not be the first provocation in the history of the Roquefort war.

The United States first imposed unusual 100 per cent tariffs on Roquefort in 1999, when the dispute with the European Union over hormoned-up beef first got nasty.

In reaction, a local peasant rabble-rouser named Jose Bove rose up, decrying unnatural foods, industrial agriculture and disrespect for traditional ways. Even before he led a group in tearing up a local McDonald's, it was clear the United States was his main target.

Bove was convicted of a crime for his gesture. But many agreed with his sentiments, none more so than the people of Roquefort. For them, the preservation of culinary tradition is a way of life - and a livelihood.

Several years later, then-President Jacques Chirac added to the irritation in Washington with his criticism of the US invasion of Iraq. It was the time of "freedom fries" in the United States and of disdain for things French, including Roquefort.

Since then, President Nicolas Sarkozy has tried to put US-French relations back on a more friendly footing.

Despite the ill feelings, Roquefort producers went out of their way to preserve a place their market share even after the tax was imposed. Milk producers and cheesemakers took revenue cuts to keep prices down for US-bound exports.

Underlying the hopes for improvement is an impression widely shared by people in France that President Barack Obama's administration, free of baggage from the dispute over Iraq, will prove more sympathetic to France - and more specifically, to Roquefort.

But Glandieres disagrees. "I don't think Roquefort will be the first thing on his mind," he said.