To the exploding population of immigrants from the Horn of Africa and the Arabian Peninsula–particularly, Somalis fleeing a decadelong civil war–khat is about as nefarious as espresso. But one man’s coffee is another man’s Schedule I narcotic. Khat (pronounced cot) has been illegal in the United States since 1993; thanks in part to the immigrant surge, it is climbing the authorities’ watch lists of new drugs. The Somali populations in Minneapolis and Columbus, Ohio, for instance, have grown from a few hundred in the early 1990s to roughly 40,000 and 30,000 respectively. At the same time, U.S. Customs agents have nearly doubled their khat seizures the last three years running. “It’s spiraling upward,” says Sgt. Ben Casuccio of the Columbus narcotics division. Already on edge because of post-9-11 surveillance, it’s understandable that paranoia is running high among East Africans. “Many people who have a deep conviction that khat isn’t drugs think law enforcement is attempting to smear the community,” says Omar Jamal of the Somali Justice Advocacy Center in St. Paul, Minn.
Most Americans first heard of khat in 1991 as an exotic upper paid to men driving the “Mad Max”-like “technicals” that helped warlords embarrass the U.S. Army in Mogadishu. But its roots reach much deeper. During the Ottoman Empire, religious leaders chewed khat as they read the Qur’an for days on end. East African leaders helped secularize it, offering the conversation-inducing leaves to visiting foreign dignitaries. Today, it’s chewed socially outdoors in the midday breeze and by students cramming for exams through the night. But it’s eschewed by many fundamentalist Muslims.
The Drug Enforcement Administration downplays khat (because it has yet to spill into the broader population), while U.S. Customs officials are investigating whether there are any possible links to the funding of terrorism. At the state level, penalties vary wildly. A Somali recently convicted of possessing 77 pounds of khat in Ohio received a 10-year prison term. In Minnesota the same amount would get you only a year. “You try to keep in mind that people may not know it’s illegal,” says patrolman David Menter. “There may be a gray area.” Still, even Minnesota’s tolerance has its limits. Jama Mohamod’s Somali restaurant was raided and shuttered when an employee signed for a box of khat held by an officer posing as a FedEx deliveryman. Guns were drawn, patrons were arrested and roughed up, Mohamod claims, and bags of khat were found sitting under dining tables, police say. Mohamod’s loss included more than the $100,000 in lost business. “The only thing wrong is they ruin my name,” he says. Clearly, the new country will take some getting used to.
