“Your international passport to smoking pleasure,” said the man on the movie screen with the deep, authoritative voice, while good-looking people skied down snowy slopes and power-boated while smoking, cavorting their way across the world. The cigarette, in this framing, was less a product than a symbol: of choice, identity, and participation in a wider world. It was also an expression of risk-taking.

Of course, this was advertising – carefully constructed, aspirational, packaged in a beautifully designed blue-and-red packet, and not without its manipulations. Yet it resonated because it tapped into something real. The appeal of Peter Stuyvesant was never just about nicotine; it was about autonomy. Other brands, like Camel and Texan, projected a male image, suggesting men could choose danger for themselves. Lucky Strike ran an infamous campaign with women holding cigarettes like lanterns of liberty. The industry hinted that individuals could define themselves, make their own decisions, and live the lives of their choosing, even in small, everyday acts. Yet even the most passionate proponent of smoking (or advertising) would not dare suggest replacing the slogan “Smoking kills” with “Smoking is freedom.”

This is what makes the modern debate around smoking so complex. Public health advocates are correct: smoking carries serious risks, and reducing those risks is a legitimate societal goal. But when the conversation shifts from informing individuals to constraining them, it begins to touch on deeper philosophical terrain. At what point does guidance become control? When does protection become paternalism?

These questions became more than theoretical in South Africa during the Covid-19 pandemic. In 2020, the government implemented a sweeping ban on the sale of tobacco products as part of its lockdown regulations. The stated aim was to reduce pressure on the healthcare system and limit behaviours associated with respiratory complications.

Yet for many citizens, the policy felt less like a public health measure and more like an intrusion into private life. In response, a group of smokers and civil liberty advocates attempted to organise a march to Parliament, a symbolic act aimed at asserting their right to choose. Though heavily constrained by lockdown rules, the very idea of the march carried weight. It was not simply about cigarettes; it was about the principle that adults should be trusted to make decisions about their own bodies, even when those decisions are imperfect.

I recall at the time cheering for my inhaling comrades and helping friends score cheap knockoffs called “Petermans”, even though I had stopped smoking long ago. In a small way, my smoking friends showed me how to be free in an unfree world.

However, in 2026, South Africans remain faced with the Tobacco Products and Electronic Delivery Systems Control Bill, better known as the Tobacco Bill. According to the Free Market Foundation (FMF), the Bill amounts to “prohibition by stealth”. They contend that the Bill represents one of the most intrusive pieces of legislation yet considered by South Africa’s post-apartheid government. If passed, it could ban designated smoking areas in restaurants, bars, and many workplaces, extending it to being regulated in the privacy of your own home. Cigarette and vaping brands’ enticing packaging would be criminalised. No longer will your international passport to smoking pleasure be allowed to display itself in blue and red; it will be reduced to a bland package, signalling the erosion of freedom of expression and the essence of open markets – competition, innovation, and consumer choice.

Moreover, it amounts to a power grab by the minister of health, says David Ansara, CEO of the FMF. “The Bill constitutes significant constitutional concerns, potentially undermines the rule of law and the separation of powers in South Africa, and gives excessive powers to the minister of health, going far beyond reasonable regulation.” If the state can prohibit one legal product on the grounds of public health, what prevents it from doing the same with others: alcohol, sugary foods, and skiing down snowy slopes themselves? The principle at stake is not whether smoking is harmful – it clearly is – but whether harm alone is sufficient justification for restricting adult choice and granting governments absolute control.

The story of Peter Stuyvesant serves as a reminder that freedom has always been intertwined with risk. The brand’s imagery of international travel and cultural exchange carried an implicit message: to live freely is to accept uncertainty, to navigate trade-offs, and to take responsibility for one’s decisions. This is not a comfortable idea, especially in an age that often prioritises safety above all else. But it is a foundational one, which we must fight to protect.

To borrow from the oft-quoted saying when things regarding freedom are discussed: “I disapprove of your filthy habit, but I will defend to a cough your right to keep on doing it.”

Vivienne Vermaak is an award-winning journalist and public speaker. Vivienne is a senior associate of The Free Market Foundation. She writes in her personal capacity.