Politics of the Vine: Fermenting Freedom with Rami El-Sabban

Al Rawiya Team

Rami sips on a glass of his wine in its preliminary stages at Mersel Winery. Dimane, Bcharreh, North Lebanon. Photo by Marwan El-Sabban.

Rami, can you take us back to the beginning? Who are you, what pulled you into winemaking, and what keeps you rooted in it?

Hey! I’m Rami Bassil El-Sabban, a natural, nomadic, and négociant winemaker based in Lebanon. My journey in wine began as a junior wine director under Karina Iglesias in Miami, USA. Karina sparked my excitement for natural wine by using a bottom-up approach rather than a top-down one. Her charismatic demeanor and love for storytelling captivated me and inspired me to explore the wines of our region, specifically from Bilad al-Sham.

With Karina’s support, I began reaching out to producers in Lebanon, hoping to showcase their wines at the restaurant we managed. That’s when I connected with Eddie Chami of Mersel Wine. Within a few months, I was invited to return home to make wine under Eddie’s guidance.

During the final weeks of harvest, Eddie mentored me through the creation of my first cuvée, an experimental blend of Concord (a North American hybrid grape varietal) and Merwah (an indigenous one). It was by learning more about my home’s terroir and native flora that I realized winemaking wasn’t just a passing interest, but something I wanted to pursue fully.

I’m now in my third vintage, working nomadically and collaboratively.

A hand grips a cluster of Syrah grapes. Eddeh, North Lebanon. Photo by Rami El-Sabban.

What does “natural wine” mean to you, not just as a label, but as a way of working with the land and its cycles?

Natural wine is, at its core, a revivalist movement that champions old-school methodologies, indigenous grapes, and decolonial models. Wine took a turn at the cusp of the 19th and 20th centuries, when global demand surged and uniformity became a necessity, leading to the widespread use of preservatives, dyes, and fining agents.

Old-school wine was always natural: simply fermented grape juice. However, through industrialization and colonial trade routes, noble grapes—internationally recognized varieties used in fine wine—were introduced to global markets, often at the expense of older, native varietals.

While natural wine continued to exist within artisanal wineries, the revivalist movement as we know it today was born from a group of French producers in Beaujolais and the Loire Valley in France.

Natural wine allows small-scale wineries to return to their roots and move away from unnatural or inorganic agricultural and viticultural practices; instead respecting the land’s needs and working in harmony with her offerings.

Rami checks in on his fermenting grapes and maintains his stainless steel tanks as part of his winemaking process at Mersel Winery. Dimane, Bcharreh, North Lebanon. Photos by Marwan El-Sabban and Rami El-Sabban.

You describe yourself as a nomadic winemaker. What does that look like in practice? And how does movement shape your relationship with vineyards, collaborations, and place?

Working nomadically entails crafting my own wine within different wineries. While my long-term goal is to establish a sense of place of my own, this approach has allowed me to explore a variety of stylistic techniques and access a broader range of grape varieties. I’m gradually building my collection of equipment, and depending on what each winery lacks (specifically for my personal winemaking needs), I try to fill in the gaps with new tools.

That being said, working nomadically has shifted my sense of self beyond winemaking. As I grow into my identity, so does my connection to the land. The sharp shifts in terroir and culture from village to village within our region have deepened my understanding of self through the lens of place. Working across diverse vineyards and landscapes has made me feel more at home regardless of the terrain—be it continental, coastal, or alpine. People acclimate to their immediate environments, and being exposed to such varied walks of life has led me to a more grounded sense of who I am.

Heya Wines founder Claudine Lteif and another worker harvest Merwah grapes as part of a shared harvest for both winemakers in 2024. Niha, Bcharre, North Lebanon. Photo by Rami El-Sabban.

Can you walk us through a season? From soil to harvest, to bottle, what does your winemaking process look like when guided by the values of sustainability and craft?

The build-up to the ripening period involves a lot of introspection about the previous year. As I grow (both in wine and as an individual), quiet reflection gives me the space to examine what went right and what went wrong, without being consumed by uneasy ruminations. From there, I implement new polished models across the different cuvées, as a way to immerse myself further in the process and better understand how each decision can significantly shape the final product.

When the grapes are ripe, we head to the vineyards, typically ones cultivated or discovered by my collaborators, for harvest. We then head back to the winery and process the grapes together. The most important aspect of the process is, and always will be, collaboration. My peers and I work hand in hand, consistently supporting each other when needed.

This is the sustainable approach. One guided by abundance rather than scarcity.

The bounty of Claudine and Rami’s harvest is stocked into crates to be prepared for fermentation. Photo by Rami El-Sabban.

Importing wine from Lebanon, especially small-batch and natural wine, isn’t always straightforward. What does that process look like? Who are the people and networks that make this possible beyond the border?

With everything happening in the world today, importation is becoming increasingly challenging, especially when you’re trying to ship out of Bilad al-Sham. That’s why having an importer you trust, and who trusts you, is more important than ever. Companies like Terra Sancta (USA) and Sienna Wines (CA) go far beyond the role of a traditional import agency. They are true champions of our region, elevating their producers and educating clients through pop-up events, restaurant workshops, and masterclasses.

Beyond importation, there are also key players (Aleb, The Bake Atelier, and Vindalisme, to name a few), who serve as exceptional taste curators for the local scene. They also act as vehicles for education around wine, something we rarely see locally, especially when it comes to natural wine.

All these characters are the ones ensuring that wine from home isn’t dismissed as a gimmick in comparison to the well-known French and Italian wines, but recognized as something worthy of respect.

As a nomadic winemaker, Rami collaborates with local winemakers, which allows him to explore a variety of stylistic techniques and access a broader range of grape varieties. One instance is in 2022, as he harvested Sangiovese grapes with Eddie Chami of Mersel Wine. North Lebanon. Photo by Rami El Sabban.

In your view, how does natural winemaking connect to questions of food sovereignty in Lebanon, especially in a moment of ongoing economic and ecological crisis?

If we circle back to the ethos of natural wine, we find that the philosophy is deeply rooted in food sovereignty and food safety. The ability to produce wine through sustainable models and regenerative agriculture reflects a profound sense of autonomy. A system that works with nature while localizing food and wine production strengthens a community’s potential for self-determination.

The illegal settler states weaponize these very ideals against our region through ecocide—and, of course, genocide. In my humble experience, every time we are confronted with immense strife, grassroots agricultural initiatives tend to grow even stronger. As long as we hold our ground through these practices, we continue to reclaim agency, protect tradition, and plant seeds for liberation.

Label of QAWS, Rami’s debut wine, a bright and extremely fruit-forward rosé. 2022. Label designed by Poline Harbali.
Label of WAJD, an eclectic expression of Lebanese pinot noir by Rami El-Sabban. 2023. Label designed by Pardiss Amerian.

How do you see your own process as part of a larger effort to preserve, revive, or reimagine cultural heritage in Lebanon?

The preservation of our culture through wine has been a joyful journey for me. First and foremost, the world has largely forgotten where the roots of winemaking truly lie. Before the classifications of the ‘New World’ and ‘Old World’ existed, there was the ‘Ancient World’—the birthplace of winemaking. This region encompasses what is now Armenia, Georgia, Turkey, Syria, Lebanon, Palestine, Iraq, and Iran. Making wine here, at home, feels like a reclamation of identity and offers a chance to remind the world of wine’s true origins.

Secondly, the grapes I use are a blend of noble and indigenous varieties. This allows me to showcase native heritage, contemporary expression, and the harmony between the two. The wines I’ve released so far reflect exactly that.

Finally, when it came to naming, I chose to move away from the tired fetishization of colonial frameworks and instead embraced my family name, El-Sabban. The names of my cuvées draw inspiration from classical Arabic—some rooted in astronomical symbolism (QAWS), others in Sufism (KASHF and WAJD), and even from pre/post-Islamic Arabic (UWĀR and MAJD). This gives me the opportunity to stay rooted in heritage while carrying history into the present.