Where tradition ferments: Assyrians revive ancient winemaking process

Winemaking in the Assyrian village of Dehe is a tradition that stretches back centuries.

But as hundreds of people have left this northern Iraqi village in recent years — driven out by armed conflict and a lack of job prospects — many feared the tradition might vanish with them. 

With help from Assyrians in neighboring areas, a new wine festival aims to preserve Dehe’s storied history, inspire younger generations, and keep the wine flowing. 

“The people of Dehe don’t have support, they don’t have young people anymore,” said Maryam Shmoil who leads Assuritu, a youth and women’s empowerment organization. “If we don’t support each other, there will be no more Assyrians there.”

Every corner of Dehe, nestled in the Sapna Valley near Iraq’s border with Turkey, is brimming with stories. One street holds a 5th-century church, another a church from the 10th century. During the Seyfo genocide of World War I, Assyrians fleeing Tyari in the Hakkari region of Turkey sought refuge in the village. Its population grew steadily, reaching more than 600 by 1961. 

That changed in the 1980s, when Dehe was destroyed during the Anfal campaign carried out by Iraq’s Ba’athist regime. All families reportedly fled the village. Slowly, through the 1990s and early 2000s, people returned. A reconstruction project built 56 new homes and restored basic infrastructure, and by 2012 an estimated 250 residents had moved back. 

But ongoing Turkish airstrikes in northern Iraq have once again pushed people away. Fewer than 30 remain today, and nearly all the village’s young people have left. 

Winemaking in the Middle East dates back to biblical times. Ancient Assyrians, whose empire emerged around 2500BC, were renowed for their vast vineyards and thriving wine industry. The tradition lives on today in Assyrian homes and monasteries, where grapes are gathered and fermented into simple blends.

In Dehe, villagers still practice ancient methods: semi-drying grapes under the sun, then gathering them to be crushed in a hawisla, or large wooden bucket. Traditional fermentation takes around 40 days, unlike modern methods that use engineered yeasts to shorten the process to about two weeks.

Shmoil conceived of the festival two years ago as a way to support the few villagers still producing wine traditionally and to pass the craft to younger generations. 

“Our youth are far from our traditions,” Shmoil said. “We are developing and improving things, but we need to do this without forgetting our traditions. We have to learn and protect it.”

After a year-long delay due to the coronavirus pandemic, this year’s festival — organized by Assuritu and the Kolokhta Association — took place on Sept. 16-17. About 30 participants from nearby Assyrian communities, including Duhok, Sapna, Bebedeh, and Khomaneh. Yousif Odisho of Bebedeh opened with a lecture on references to wine in Assyrian literature. 

Attendees learned about Dehe’s history and the realities its remaining residents face. That evening, they split into groups to harvest both black and white grapes. 

The next morning, villagers led workshops on ancient winemaking techniques. A new hawisla was constructed and filled with the harvested grapes. Groups took turns stomping them — sometimes breaking into khigga dance as they worked. 

Elderly villagers looked on with smiles, clapping along to the music. 

“A man from the village came up to me during the event and said bisema raba (thank you very much),” said David Gewargis of Duhok. “You could tell they were really happy to see us and to see youth being active, gathering, dancing and having fun and doing an activity.”

The experience brought the tradition alive for Gewargis, whose mother is from the Sapna Valley, but who had never witnessed the process firsthand. 

“We go to Assyrian houses and they tell us they make wine and start explaining it, but to actually witness the process step by step is different than when you hear about it,” he said. “You’re closer to the tradition and you’re passing on that knowledge, that heritage.”

The wine will now ferment for 40 days before villagers bottle it for sale.

This year’s festival was modest, Shmoil noted, and that’s why she hesitates to call it the first annual event. Instead, it served as the seed for a much larger week-long festival planned for the future — one that will move from village to village, including Barwar and Nahla.

Taking the festival on the road is important, she said, because Dehe isn’t the only Assyrian village facing population decline and fighting to preserve its traditions.

“This village has a great history,” Shmoil said. “If we want to protect our identity, we have to protect our villages.”