
For the impact it has had globally in the last five centuries, the cinchona tree has remained notoriously obscure. This cosmopolitan plant, once endemic to the Andean region (in today’s Ecuador, Peru, Bolivia and Colombia), is almost extinct there. Plantations are still found in Africa and Asia. First and foremost, the fame of the cinchona tree is owed to its medicinal properties to treat fevers. Crucially, its bark contains an alkaloid called quinine. This elusive substance was once the only known cure for malaria, and therefore turned into an extremely valuable commodity that shaped empires’ and new nations’ fates and fortunes. The introduction of quinine marks the beginning of modern pharmacology. It also exemplifies the pattern of knowledge robbery that would be followed since.
Cinchona has been notoriously reticent to make expose itself to modern science. From the difficulty to identify the tree by name (quina, cascarillo, azuceno, ayac cara, yara chucchu, quinquino, and fever tree are but a few), to enlist the different species (only recently ‘solved’ with DNA techniques) to the inability to understand the mechanisms with which quinine disables the malaria parasite (scientists can only claim that ‘it just works’), little is known about the real events that brought Western science in contact with it, while the original knowledges that came before were actively destroyed. Regarding malaria, contemporary discourse follows the epidemiological perspective to focus on mosquitos as the vector of transmission, thus blurring a more holistic, nuanced understanding on the disease and its treatments. In the following pages, an unruly sequence of landmark events will lay out an alternative, Southern counter-history around the cinchona tree.
By
Juan Arturo García