a wine that carries

resilience at its roots

As Viticole has grown and evolved into the team it is today, some realities have taken our breath away. We have always had an understanding that to care for the planet is to care for its people. In our quest, certain stories have hit cords and nerves we never knew we had. This is one of those stories. From networks of mycelium to beating hearts, we all play a part in the fabric of the universe. It is a great honor to introduce Roberto Henriquez to the Viticole lineup and with it the legacy and resilience of the Mapuche Peoples who inhabit the land we know by its colonized name of Chile. The parallels of ancient vine to the indigenous struggle are quite clear. These 250 year old vines continue to thrive in its struggle for existence. Or is it a resistance? A resistance to disease. A resistance to extinction. 

Our guest writer, Ann Harper, will take you on the journey of the vine and the Mapuche from colonization to present day. To add the seriousness of this fight, Ann Harper is a pen name to protect the sobering reality of likely repercussions when truth is spoken to power.

Santa Cruz de Coya, the name of one of Roberto’s wines, is a remembrance seal of one of the most successful victories of any indigenous peoples against the Europeans. At the end of the 1500’s, in a tumultuous time where the Mapuche and their allies had been fighting against the armed Spanish soldiers for some sixty years, three Mapuche leaders came together and devised a strategy to attack a Spanish governor who had built forts and was now setting up a new campaign. They surrounded the Spanish army over the night of the 23rd December 1598 and terminated the soldiers and their leader. From that day, Mapuche warriors systematically forced Spanish villagers to flee and, on many occasions, killed men and captured women and children. The first city to be depopulated was Santa Cruz de Coya on March 7, 1599. It is not on the map anymore, but it was located at the confluence of the Bio Bio and Laja rivers. From there followed the attacks on Valdivia, Castro, La Imperial, San Andrés de los Infantes, Villa Rica, Osorno and Valdivia, in 1604. Then, for almost two hundred years, the Mapuche kept their territory south of Bio Bio river under their control, making it extremely difficult and dangerous for Spanish encomenderos to work their way in. Encomenderos were deputies charged by the Spanish crown to take over lands, subjugate native people and force them to work in inhumane conditions under Catholic indoctrination—all of which was supposedly going to save them from hell and keep them safe from enemies.

With the help of Jesuits and a lot of alcohol, encomenderos fooled the heads of family or Lonkos (who were now men instead of women) and made their way into thousands of hectares of land that became replaced by pastures and cattle, wheat and other cereals. Deforestation, slash and burn practices for introduced grains, and furrows made in the direction of the slope took a great toll on the soil, which by the early 1900s had become very poor in nutrients, acidified and eroded. Reforestation with Eucalyptus and Pinus radiata came next as a supposed solution to erosion. Still ongoing in spite of ecologists’ call outs, this has meant that Mapuche territories have not been able to thrive with its native vegetation and original cultivars since the 1600s, and that ecological and hydrological balances are now severely impacted.

Back in the 1500s the valleys of the Bio Bio river, Laja, Maule, Itaca and Cautin among many others were cultivated with fields of native plants like corn, beans, squash, potatoes, quinoa, maki and ají pepper. They were populated with hundreds of Mapuche families that together numbered a few million people. Although a century before they had been forced by intruding Atacameños and Incas from the north to move beyond the Mapocho river (that runs through what is now Santiago), their main distribution had always been in the lush and more humid territories further south. Mapuche families were very well organized; they practiced a matrilineal totemic system of governance and a way of life that was protective of the territory through defensive and offensive tactics. Women were key in cultivating the land and keeping domestic hens and wooly camelids (alpacas and llamas), a practice they had maintained for many centuries. The basis of the social structure was the lof, an extended family unit, and lofs were spread out in a fairly even manner throughout the landscape which covered from the Andean mountain range to the coastline of the Pacific ocean. Until today, depending on the ecosystem they inhabit they have different names. While the ones in the high mountains are the Pehuenches because of their interdependence with the Pehuen tree (araucaria araucana) those living by the lakes are Lafkenche and by the coast are Huilliche.

What the Spanish invaders saw towards 1530 were plains patched with hundreds of quite evenly spread reed-roofed houses called Ruka and richly cultivated fields surrounded by middle size native vegetation like Espinos and Algarrobos, all of which was interwoven with galleries of trees growing by streams and rivers that ran from the Andean glaciers and lakes, gushing through gullies and valleys and branching out through the open plains. Native trees started in the high mountains with Alerces and Araucarias, and galleries down in the valleys were filled with Peumos, Boldos, Canelos, Sauces, Arrayanes, Maitenes, Coligues, Mañíos and Quillayes. Wetlands, ponds and lake shores had all sorts of reeds. Alluvial soils and vegetation debris produced very rich and deep soils, ensuring bountiful harvests among Mapuche family units. At the end of the harvest season, they would meet up to exchange their products. At the beginning of the planting season, they would meet again to hold a sacred feast for the exchange of seeds.

Towards the second half of the 1700s, accommodated creole families in Santiago de Chile and Valparaíso were fairly few in number. They kept strong ties with relatives and merchants from Spain or France and sent their young sons on trips to study there. It was the time when Europe was going through the Enlightenment and the French Revolution. Exchange of things was as valuable as exchange of ideas, and one way to justify the continued expansion of land tenure and industrial work—both in Europe and in Chile— was through farming new varieties of plants. Many kinds of potatoes, squash and pepper had been taken to Europe early on, and fruit trees like apples, pears and plums were consistently brought to Chile for decades on end.

…And the wine took root

The introduction of wine grapes is particularly outstanding: they were brought by missionaries to make sacramental wine starting in the early 1500s, and vines took root so well that by the mid 1700s aristocrats were bringing new wine strains along with French oenologists and administrators. By the mid 1800s export of Chilean wine was significant in volume and quality.

Vines were carefully passed hand in hand, from creole family to mestizo family, all of which shared a sentiment for the winery tradition. A mutual interdependence developed over generations, and as long as there was perseverance and dedication, vines grew older and older. Thus they remain today, a 200 to 250-year old living testimony of endurance.

Families from Chile that chose to grow wine were, since the beginning, of a different mindset than those growing cattle, lumber forests or mining. It is true: most of the wine industry has been maintained in the hands of the wealthiest families, but it has not been one filled with the feverish ambition of accumulation and limitless growth, pushing beyond the land’s capacity to give.

Most wine companies today are mixed financial groups with Chilean associates who are proud of their legacy and of how wine speaks well of Chile. Wine from Chile is one of a kind, they say. There is something about the soil, the humidity of the air, the winds, the contrast between winter and summer months, the Mediterranean climate. But it is also because the varieties have never been attacked by Phylloxera. The Andean mountains and the Pacific ocean created a geographical barrier that prevented the intrusion of the root louse that destroyed the plants in all of Europe and also in Brazil and other regions on the Atlantic side of South America.

Today’s large and middle size wine companies in Chile emerged from a crisis in the rich family-owned vineyards that took grip between 1940 and 1980 due to export restrictions, high taxes and prohibitive alcohol laws. Early on in the dictatorship these laws were rolled back and with the help of Miguel Torres, the wine industry of Chile was re-structured. Wine exportation grew, and with it, the image of an economically promising Chile became something to exploit. Chilean wine in embassies throughout Europe and the US and among the middle and high class spread the subliminal message that there was a Chile to be proud of. This manicured Chile was the one of the National Anthem, “Puro Chile, es tu cielo azulado, puras brisas te cruzan también” (“Pure Chile, your sky is blue and pure breezes cross you too”). The Chile of postcards featuring the ever-white Cordillera, the prehistoric Araucaria trees, the Huaso Chileno on horseback and happy people dancing Cueca. It is a Chile unrightfully called Araucanía—that alludes to the “to-be-conquered-land” by the (neo)colonial campaigns.

But there is another Chile that can be remembered when drinking wine. It is Wallmapu, the could-be lush and thriving land of the Mapuche, a land where an intercultural harmonious way of living would include people like Roberto. Today a small wine producer, Roberto Henríquez who was born in Concepción, holds the two worlds with wisdom and humility. It is a mestizaje that brings the best of two cultures and cosmovisions.

In his own words:

“El pueblo Mapuche es sabio, es consciente y respeta la vida, una planta y la naturaleza como ninguna raza en la tierra, y sí, para los viejos viñateros que tenemos sangre Mapuche pero que heredan el trabajo de sus ancestros [criollos] existe un gran respeto hacia el pueblo Mapuche.”

"The Mapuche Peoples are wise, they are conscientious and respect life, a plant and nature like no other race on Earth, and yes, for the old vignerons who have Mapuche blood as I do, and who inherit the work of their creole ancestors, there is a great respect for the Mapuche Peoples."

“Siento que el viñedo y vino de aquí dan la posibilidad de que se mantenga ese respeto por el pueblo Mapuche, y que reconozcamos que definitivamente nos equivocamos, que hemos destruido el territorio, pero que podemos recuperar el respeto, la integración, la justicia, el equilibrio, la co-existencia. Todos merecemos comer y beber bien. A todos nos conviene que el campo y el trabajo agrícola sean respetados. Necesitamos darle valor a lo endémico, darle valor a lo Mapuche, darle valor a lo Chileno.”

"I feel that the vineyard and the wine from here offer the possibility to cultivate the respect for the Mapuche Peoples, and to recognize that we definitely have made mistakes, that we have destroyed the territory, but that we can recover respect, integration, justice, balance and co-existence. We all deserve to eat and drink well. Everyone will benefit if the countryside and agricultural work are respected. We need to give value to what is endemic, give value to what is Mapuche and give value to what is Chilean."

Roberto loves his family and the tradition of wine making. He grew up trying to understand what it means to descend from a creole family and also have Mapuche ancestry while living in Mapuche territory. Most ‘chilenos’ are in the same situation but very few integrate a dual identity. The love he has for the land is reflected in how he relates to the seasons and the times of the day, and in the sacred respect he has for the Earth.

“En verano el paisaje es verde y amarillo, con suelo naranjo y seco por la arcilla. La primavera y el otoño son mis favoritos. Se cruzan los rojos, amarillos y verdes. Las estaciones son marcadas, con frío en invierno y calor en verano.”

"In the Summer the landscape is green and yellow, with an orange and dry soil due to the clay. Spring and Fall are my favorite. Reds, yellows and greens cross the fields. Seasons are marked, cold in winter and hot in summer."

“La tierra es una tierra que recibe solo el agua de las lluvias y las entrega a las viñas durante el año. El bosque y plantas nativas se cruzan con las viñas antiguas de 200 años. Es realmente un paraíso en la tierra. No me veo en otro lugar.”

"The land is of a soil that only receives water from rains and it gives those waters to the vineyards throughout the year. The forest and native plants intermix with 200-year old vines. It is really a paradise on Earth. I don’t see myself anywhere else."

The spirit of protecting the land and the family tradition came strongest through him when he learned that a Spanish-owned winery, Miguel Torres, was seeking to buy wine vineyards in the area.

“Cuando me enteré de que Miguel Torres de España estaba buscando viñedos en el sector y recién me acababan de ofrecer los campos, enloquecí y dejé mi trabajo, conseguí el dinero y me adelanté para que Miguel Torres no viera esos campos y no los comprasen ellos.”

"When I found out that Miguel Torres from Spain was looking for vineyards in this region, I had just been offered these fields by someone, so I got crazy and quit my job, managed to get the money and got ahead of Miguel Torres so that they wouldn’t see the fields and buy them."

Roberto grows vine strains País, Moscateles de Alejandría, Trincadeira, Listan Blanco, Pinot Noir y Uva del Rey, many of them 250 years old. He loves his vines.

“Son la expresión, la sinceridad de un viñedo viejo, es la pureza de la tierra que habla, y que se cruzó en dos mundos paralelos. El Americano con el Europeo.”

"They are the expression, the sincerity of an old vineyard, it is the purity of the earth speaking which found itself at the crossroads of two parallel worlds, the American and the European."

**Special thanks to Roberto Henriquez for his amazing photos.