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PATENTS Return of the Colonists India drags its feet on new laws and faces financial losses even as western scientists find potentially lucrative uses for a host of traditional Indian plants. By Shefali Rekhi and Subhadra Menon with Amarnath K Menon Barika safeda kasmira kabala, This isn't exactly Rajendra Kumar's normal bed-time reading. But for the past year, the Delhi attorney has been digesting scores of Indian classics, like this couplet from the 16th century Punjabi fable of the lovers Heer and Ranjha. Kumar, of the law firm Kumaran and Sagar, is no closet romantic. The only reason Heer-Ranjha caught his fancy was for the descriptions it offered of the king of Indian rice: basmati. Kumaran and Sagar's attorneys were hired by the Government to scour the ancient texts in a desperate battle to stop a feisty US company called Ricetec, which patented "Basmati 867", a finer, sturdier brand of American basmati. The Government hopes to prove to the US Patent Office that basmati is so much a part of ancient Indian tradition that no one else should be given the right to use, and profit, from the word -- and thus the rice. In a country that does not document anything that's considered tradition or heritage, not even after India agreed to be a part of the World Trade Organisation (WTO) in 1994, it's not surprising that ancient scriptures are the best hopes to fight patent battles. A long-time dissenter on intellectual property rights, India is in quicksand when it argues about patents, the exclusive rights of holders to market and license their products. For years, the government granted patents on processes to make food, medicine and drugs, not on the products themselves. Though it has time until 2005 to put in place a system in tune with the industrialised world, successive governments have done nothing. "Few realise how serious the situation really is," warns G.V. Ramakrishna, member of a government expert group on patents. "Whatever gains India can make by being a signatory to the WTO is being squandered away by inaction." India's deadline for setting up a system to compile and sequence product-patent applications until the transition to full product patents in 2005 and give exclusive marketing rights to product patent holders ended in February. A deadline extension runs out by the end of March. Unless the new government does something immediately, India could be liable for WTO sanctions, which have never before been issued against any country. Sanctions imply restrictions on Indian exports, increasing trade tariffs and making India liable for trade curbs on issues as diverse as human rights and health. India's mastery of traditional sciences and its potential exports are now under grave danger of leaching away in the form of foreign patents and dollars. India exported basmati valued at Rs 1,198 crore last year, nearly three-fourths of global rice exports. India's rice farmers and exporters could be seriously threatened if Ricetec's basmati elbows in. But the basmati patent -- and a failed attempt at a US turmeric patent -- is just the tip of the iceberg.
A host of other Indian condiments, plants and herbs is being taken apart molecule by molecule in western laboratories. "A great chunk of our genetic resources is already lost," says Devinder Sharma, a food policy analyst. Many remedies and recipes that our grandmothers knew are becoming patented products, with the rights for commercial production channelled to foreign inventors and companies, a loss in the long term of lucrative potential markets. A recent study by the Research Foundation for Science, Technology and Ecology, an NGO, found foreign patents granted for products derived from more than 100 Indian trees, herbs and spices. Environmentalists call this biocolonialism or biopiracy, a silent takeover of biological resources either by exploiting -- whether deliberately or unknowingly -- Indian weaknesses, or by directly smuggling out plants or seeds and then patenting them. There is some truth to the argument. Last year, Australian scientists tried to patent sona and heera, two varieties of Indian chickpea (channa), which had been given to them for further research by the International Crops Research Institute for Semi-Arid Tropics (ICRISAT), Hyderabad. When voluntary organisations found out, an international protest was organised and the patent was revoked in January this year. The Food and Agriculture Organisation is now suggesting a moratorium on any rights being granted on plants held in free trust by international gene banks, as sona and heera were. Sometimes, Indian research just isn't up to the mark. For instance, western companies already hold 40 patents on products from the neem tree; Indian scientists hold just three. So legally, India's biological wealth is open for exploitation. "There can be biopiracy of know- ledge of how to use biodiversity, or there can be biopiracy of this biodiversity itself," says P. Pushpangadan, director of the Tropical Botanic Garden and Research Institute (TBGRI), Thiruvananthapuram. He explains how government organisations like the Botanical Survey of India and the Zoological Survey of India have concentrated on inventories of species, not their genetic make-up. So when a foreign institute or scientist patents a gene, Indians do not even recognise the gene as theirs. In this helical wilderness lies an immense trove of patents and profits. More than 7,000 kinds of plants are used for medicinal properties. And there are 326 species of wild crop varieties. More than a third of all of India's animal and plant species are endemic, meaning they are found nowhere else in the world. The threat of future biological takeovers is real unless the Government, scientists and businessmen make a move now. The first issue is scientific. Very little of India's vast wealth of traditional knowledge is on paper or electronic databases that can be easily accessed and presented to foreign patent authorities to dispute claims made by scientists abroad. "If the US Patent Office had access to information on Indian biodiversity, it could really help with decisions," says R. Mashelkar, head of the Council for Scientific and Industrial Research (CSIR), the country's largest network of research laboratories. The CSIR now constantly urges its scientists to patent every new advance. India's biological resources must be clearly identified, at a genetic level wherever possible, and a listing made of various plants and their traditional uses. Without such a central clearing house of this information, scientists and attorneys will continue to scurry around old libraries, searching creaking shelves for ancient texts. "It takes ages to get all the evidence in place," says K.C. Gabriel, a Kumaran and Sagar attorney. He spent a large part of last year painstakingly studying translations of texts in Sanskrit, Urdu, Persian and a host of other languages to collect information on the use of turmeric. Gabriel and his colleagues finally gathered enough historical evidence to get the US Patent Office to cancel a patent granted to two US scientists, who claimed they had "discovered" turmeric's antiseptic properties. "Traditionally, everything to do with inventions and discoveries remained in the family domain, with one generation passing it on to the other," explains Gabriel. "Though times have changed, the system hasn't." The second issue is to change India's patent laws as soon as possible. Until now, the disregard has been scandalous. A few hours before midnight on December 31, 1994, the deadline for the WTO coming into force, the President of India did promulgate an ordinance amending the Patents Act, 1970, to delete the provision that prohibited product patents on pharmaceuticals and agro-chemicals. But ordinances are issued only when Parliament isn't in session and exist only for six weeks. The minority Congress government could only get it through the Lok Sabha, not the Rajya Sabha, and the old Act was revived when the ordinance lapsed on March 25, 1995. The stupor since -- much of it because of emotional protests on neo-colonialism from the left and right of the political spectrum -- must be shrugged off. "The world is not waiting for you," remarks patent lawyer and expert Praveen Anand. "We are ethically and morally bound. And if we don't send out the right signals, we will lose out on the gains." By being a signatory to the WTO, Indian exports between 1992-93 and now grew by Rs 56,000 crore, which is 1 per cent of the growth in world trade. Without being WTO signatories, our share would be half that amount, says an estimate made by the Ministry of Commerce. The third issue is to pass laws that will protect India's products and biodiversity. Much of the basmati controversy centres on the right to use the term "basmati", a name associated with north India and Pakistan, much like champagne is restricted to producers in France and Scotch to whiskey makers in Scotland. A Geographical Indication Bill will make India's case for protecting basmati immensely stronger. A plant varieties law will protect farmers from having to buy seeds that they themselves may have developed, but have been modified by multinational corporations. And a national biodiversity legislation will categorise and recognise India's biological resources -- a draft law has been ready since September 1997 -- and spell out the rights over them. It's particularly necessary in a country where traditional remedies can easily be developed into drugs by companies. A model already exists in Kerala, where government scientists developed a drug from a plant consumed by the Kani tribe. Scientists at the TBGRI noticed that the tribals never got tired after eating the leaves of a plant called Trichopus zeylanicus. They took it to the laboratory, isolated the compound and in 1991 had a formulation ready for the market. The drug, Jeevani, was marketed and now there's Rs 6.8 lakh stashed away in a bank account waiting to reach the tribals. Kerala proposed a Tribal Intellectual Property Bill in 1996 and Karnataka is in the process of chalking out a biodiversity conservation and access and benefit-sharing strategy. The fourth issue is to get India's slow-moving patent office in order. The Controller General of Patents has a pile of 24,000 patent applications. Patents take up to seven years to be cleared, against two years in the US. The Government must revamp the patent office, staff it with experts well-equipped to advise and calm the fears of Indian scientists and entrepreneurs who frequently stress out over foreign patents. "When projected here in India, individual patent grants seem much more serious and irrevocable than they actually are in the US," says Peter Raven, head of the Missouri Botanical Garden in St Louis, US. The solutions to the patent or biopiracy crisis, depending on
how you look at it, are evident. Just implement them. Unless that happens, Rajendra Kumar
and his colleagues will continue rummaging through unknown, dusty libraries -- and taking
Heer-Ranjha home for bed-time reading.
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