An ancient legend has it that a man from what is today Saudi Arabia—then called Hijaz—fell on hard times and left home in search of produce he could procure to sell and earn a livelihood. Initially, he set his course south for Yemen, which he hoped to reach in time for the grape harvest there. However, he had not made it very far before he met an acquaintance who had just returned from regions north of Hijaz. As he recounted his travels, the acquaintance reminded the man about the dates of the Levant—and how they were prized for their sweeter taste. So, the man reversed his direction from south to north in hopes of reaching the Levant in time for the date harvest.
After journeying for many days, the man had nearly reached the Levant when he met some of his countrymen returning home from there. He explained his quest to them and asked them eagerly for news of the date harvest, whereupon they scolded him for his ignorance. “The season for dates in the Levant is the same as in Hijaz,” they chided him. “The harvest has already passed!”
Refusing to dwell on all the time he had lost, the man simply reversed course again and headed south towards Yemen’s grape harvest once more. Unfortunately, by the time he reached Yemen, the grape harvest had already passed, too. Thus, his poorly informed detour to the Levant had cost him all his opportunities. This legend is the source of a common proverb that is repeated around the Arab world today, which translates to, “Neither the dates of the Levant nor the grapes of Yemen lasted for long.” This proverb is quoted as a wise saying to someone who may be wavering between two choices, to someone who has competing priorities or changes his priorities on a whim, or to someone who takes a leisurely approach to matters without accounting for the consequences[1]. The existence of the legend and the proverb is also evidence of the long-lived fame of Yemeni grapes.
For centuries, Yemeni grapes have been primarily cultivated across the region that is today the nation’s northern provinces of Sana’a, Sa’ada, Amran, and Al-Jawf—where over 23,000 hectares remain dedicated to grape farming. This represents roughly 35 percent of all fruit farms in the country, making grapes Yemen’s most widely cultivated fruit. The region has a climate especially suited to grapes, and most grape vines in the area range between 80 to 120 years old. Across Yemen’s vineyards, as many as 40 varieties of grapes can be found, each with its own unique flavor, color, and nutritional profile—and Yemen produces around 163,000 tons of grapes annually. Hanan is a Yemeni mother of two living in Aden who enjoys Yemen’s grape season each year. “I love grapes,” she says. “When I was growing up, my father had a friend who owned a vineyard, and he would bring us lots of grapes. Currently, I have a kidney stone, and grapes are one of the foods permitted for kidney stone patients to eat, so it’s a great option for me.”
Unfortunately, for many Yemenis, the benefits of grapes and other fruits have grown increasingly out of reach as they fight for survival in an economy that has continued to collapse since the start of Yemen’s ongoing conflict in 2015. Most Yemenis are coping with lost or shrinking livelihoods, while the price of fruit has been driven up by rising production costs as well as increasing challenges associated with delivering produce to local markets. Now virtually a luxury item, large quantities of fruits pile up in shops and on the carts of street vendors, while limited access to refrigeration prevents traders from preserving the fruits for future sale. Thus, farmers and merchants are lamenting the loss of their crops in storage, as they are forced to discard them or feed them to livestock[2]. While Yemen’s grape farmers do have the option of converting their harvest into raisins, which have a longer lifespan than the fresh fruit and have traditionally produced reliably high profits—they are now facing a decline in domestic trade due to steep competition from cheap imported Chinese grapes and raisins[3]. Furthermore, conflict-driven access restrictions have also weakened demand for Yemen’s grapes and raisins in neighboring countries.
Grapes were once so revered in Yemen that some evidence suggests that in pre-Islamic times, Yemenis may have even counted the Queen of Grapes[4] among their deities. The grapevine was also considered the Tree of Life in ancient Yemen and symbolized immortality. Today, Yemen’s grape-growing provinces have a cultural heritage that retains deep roots in the cultivation of the hallowed fruit. This includes regional folk songs that have long celebrated the variety of grape colors, types, and tastes. To honor this heritage, Yemeni artist Hani Shaibani recorded and released a new ode to grapes in 2021. The work was completed with funding and support from the World Bank, the United Nations Development Program (UNDP), and Yemen’s Social Fund for Development as part of an initiative to support Yemen’s grape farmers who now face an uncertain future[5]. Shaibani’s ode speaks of grapes that are like love when it is allowed to ripen, lauds the grape farmers who for generations have cared for the grapes by God’s pleasure, and invites the fields to sing and dance [6]. In spite of such initiatives, however, those fields continue to remain at high risk of languishing—sacrificed as an opportunity cost in a war waged for the profit of the wealthy and powerful.
[1] https://www.wattan.net/ar/news/126217.html
[2] https://english.aawsat.com/arab-world/4518271-yemen-salary-cuts-unemployment-lead-seasonal-fruit-slump
[3] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bQFgPv4qyE
[4] https://art.thewalters.org/detail/76514/fragment-of-a-pediment-with-a-goddess/
[5] https://undpyemen.exposure.co/yemeni-grapes
[6] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-dchwtJoDx8
Neither the Dates of the Levant nor the Grapes of Yemen Lasted for Long
