Turkish wines are at risk of drying up as economic and climate crises grow Business and Economics

Mardin and Tekirdag, Turkey – While Gabriel Oktay Cili works in a small silver paneled wood shop in the heart of the southeastern Turkish city of Mardin, several people leave broken jewelry, which he fixes with a decade-long torch. But most visitors come to order to have a sweet and spicy wine from their home.

Over the past two decades, many boutique wineries have sprung up throughout Turkey, competing with the growing wine industry. Some owners are working to bring European winemaking practices to Turkey, while others, such as Chile, are trying to revive the region’s ancient winemaking traditions.

Cili, 43, is an Assyrian member of an ancient Christian community that has lived in the Mardin area for thousands of years. He has been making his family’s wine since the early 2000s with grapes harvested from local vineyards and now produces at least 1,000 bottles a year.

However, it is now one of many small Turkish wine producers struggling to survive in the face of growing environmental and economic crises, along with political pressure.

Eastern Turkey, like much of the country, is experiencing a historic drought. Mardin has been particularly tough, recording a 54 percent reduction in rainfall last year. Most winemakers in the region are particularly vulnerable to drought because they do not use irrigation because they rely on natural rain and snow, which gives the wine a deeper flavor and color.

The less rainfall, the less grapes they are able to harvest – Cili has already had to supplement his grape supply with some from outside the region, which he says makes it difficult to control quality.

Meanwhile, forecasts for the next decade in Turkey it looks dark because droughts, floods and fires will hit the country even harder.

Cili says that, along with the Turkish one the dominant economy and state pressure on alcohol producers is threatening his business.

He says the industry needs help to adapt: ​​”The state’s position on wine needs to change.”

Turkish winemaking tradition

The Mesopotamian plains where Cili makes his wine have been home to Armenian and Assyrian winemakers for thousands of years, including during the Ottoman era.

After the founding of the Turkish Republic in 1923, the Tekel state monopoly was established to oversee the sale of tobacco and alcohol in Turkey. Tekel was privatized in 2003 by the Justice and Development Party (AK Party) under a loan agreement with the International Monetary Fund, which led to the resurgence of small Turkish winemakers.

In 2004, they were there Less than 50 There are licensed Turkish wine producers now 184. Domestic wine production rose from just over 28 million liters in 2004 to more than 66 million liters last year, accounting for 97 percent of Turkish wine.

Despite the dominance of a few major producers in the market – Doluca and Kavaklider produce more than 50 percent of their Turkish wine together – boutique producers have grown.

Can Topsakal, the founder of the Barbarian vineyards, lived in France before returning to Turkey two decades ago. In 2000, he found a plot of land in Tekirdag, in the Thracian region of northwestern Turkey, where he hoped to make wines similar to those he loved in France.

The first vineyards were planted in 2001, imported from France. They had their first harvest in 2007, and their first harvest in 2013.

But in the same year, the ruling AK Party banned alcohol advertising – Topsakal says it has weakened its business and reflected the government’s increasingly hostile attitude towards industry – one of several measures.

The AK Party has banned merchants from selling alcohol 100 meters from the mosque and from 10pm onwards, and has regularly raised taxes on alcohol during its nearly two-decade tenure. The special tax on alcohol and tobacco consumption rose by 17% in January 2021.

In 2020, the government collected 12 percent of its tax revenue, or 20 billion pounds ($ 1.5 billion), from alcohol.

The AK-led government has justified alcohol and tobacco restrictions as a public health measure and compared the measures to similar laws in France and the United States.

“There is no way to defend alcohol consumption as a way of life that does not benefit society, but rather causes harm,” President Recep Tayyip Erdogan said in a 2013 speech.

Topsakal says that while the biggest producers were known when the ad ban was imposed, Barbare and other vineyard boutiques have been fighting because they have just begun to establish their names.

Despite these pressures, Barbara was able to form individual relationships with consumers who bought their wine in bulk and turned the family home in the vineyard into a hotel.

“Now it’s all word of mouth,” said Deniz Topsakal, daughter of Can Topsakal and now CEO of Barbara. “People come to the hotel and the restaurant, they do wine tastings, and they buy wine and send it to friends. That’s how we know each other. ‘

But now many more vineyards are fighting among a counterfeit coin, rising inflation and a the cost of living crisis Turkey.

Boutique winemakers rely on many imported materials, which has increased the cost of production and eroded profits as far as the pound has been made. it dropped in value.

Many of the materials needed to make fine wine – caps and boxes – are in euros. Oak barrels can cost 1,500 euros ($ 1,700) each and can be used up to twice. When Can Topsakal started making Barba wine, the euro was just over £ 1.50. The rate has risen by more than 20 in recent weeks.

The vineyard relies on hotel revenues to deal with the devastating effects of economic catastrophe and, increasingly, climate change. The family says they now just broke their income.

“We would lose money if there were no hotels,” said Deniz Topsakal. “Last year, we lost 25 percent of the harvest due to the rains.”

‘We’re playing here’

Professor Elman Bahar, who studies viticulture and winemaking at Tekirdag University, says that vineyards need to adopt “smart farming” practices, adapting harvest and fermentation schedules to increasingly unpredictable weather patterns driven by climate change.

“Rain comes when you don’t need it, and it doesn’t come when you do,” Bahar said, adding that rainfall in the region has changed from an annual average of 550-600 mm to 700 mm a year ago. In 2018, and 280mm in 2020.

“Every year we did strategies. Now we have to make strategies every week, ”he said.

Hikmet Ataman, head of the Arcadia vineyards in northwestern Kirklarel, Turkey, also says that the Turkish wine industry needs to drive according to the data in order to survive climate change rapidly and survive in an unexpected situation.

He said this is especially difficult because the state Meteorological Directorate (MGM) does not publish accurate weather data to the public; rain, drought, and soil temperatures are released only at monthly and annual averages at the national and regional levels.

“We’re at stake here,” Ataman said, “we don’t know what the wine will be like in five years. If the climate warms by five degrees, everything will die. ‘

Arcadia Vineyards has established weather stations and maintains accurate records of soil quality, rainfall, grape production, and harvest. This, according to Ataman, allows you to adjust your harvest and fermentation schedules. If the cold winters and hotter summers wipe out some grapes, they will switch production to different varieties.

However, there is still not enough data, he said.

“If the government were to release it [more detailed] climate data, would be entrepreneurial. People would invest in it and get into the industry, ”Ataman said.

Meanwhile, other winemakers say they would also benefit from a change in government policies. A lower tax would allow prices to fall; if they removed the advertising ban or allowed it to be sold online, it would reach more customers.

“Wine is a culture,” said Cili, Mardin’s winemaker. “But some don’t see it that way. We need help to survive. ”