A major scientific article published in 2017 brought worldwide attention to Georgia’s ancient wine history.
Titled “Early Neolithic Wine of Georgia in the South Caucasus,” it presented strong evidence that wine production there dated back eight thousand years—six hundred years earlier than previous finds in Iran’s Zagros Mountains.
Interest in Georgian wine existed long before this confirmation. Exhibitions in Bordeaux, a renowned wine capital, and at London’s Vinopolis in 1999 highlighted Georgia as the homeland of wine, showcasing centuries of tradition through archaeological and ethnographic displays.
Georgian researchers had argued for decades, drawing on archaeological digs, ethnographic records, and rich folklore, that the South Caucasus, and Georgia in particular, represented one of the earliest centers of viticulture and winemaking. This view gained support from ongoing local customs tied to grapes and wine. International authors reinforced the idea: Hugh Johnson suggested it in his 1980s book on wine history, and Patrick McGovern echoed similar thoughts in his 2003 study of ancient viniculture.
Beyond stories and rituals, physical evidence built a convincing case. Mid-20th-century excavations uncovered grape seeds in Eneolithic layers, prompting early cautious claims of viticulture in the third-to-second millennia BCE. Later discoveries in Neolithic sites at Khrami Didi Gora and Dangreuli Gora in Shulaveri pushed the timeline further back to the sixth-to-fifth millennia BCE, though laboratory confirmation was still needed at the time.
Other artifacts pointed directly to wine pressing. Clay vessels resembling early forms of the modern kvevri appeared in these periods, though they also stored grain and served other uses. For centuries, similar jars held the deceased in burial practices. During the Mtkvari-Araxes era in the third-to-second millennia BCE, jars took on pitcher shapes with narrow bases, wide mouths, and thick walls, often set halfway into the ground. Their surfaces were smoothed, polished, and decorated with geometric patterns, spirals, and bird motifs.
By the middle of the first millennium BCE, the custom of fully burying kvevris in the earth became common. Winemaking techniques continued to advance, and dedicated wineries emerged around the turn of the millennium. Archaeological finds leave little doubt that viticulture and wine production held a central place in ancient Georgian agriculture.
Written sources add further weight. Assyrian records noted abundant wine among the Mushki or Meskhetian people. Homer praised the sparkling wines of the Phasis region in Colchis, where legends say the Argonauts marveled at vast vineyards and fountains of wine.
A colorful tale from the Persian poet and wine enthusiast Omar Khayyam tells of Prince Badem, son of King Shamiram, who saved a phoenix by killing a giant snake. In gratitude, the bird brought grape seeds from the north. The king planted them, produced wine, and spread vineyards across the land for the people’s enjoyment. Since Persian terms for the north align with the South Caucasus, and ancient Hebrew traditions also place wine’s origin there, the story aligns neatly with scientific ideas about the region as the cradle of winemaking.
For Georgians, wine, vineyards, and cellars have carried spiritual importance since ancient times. Archaeological and folk evidence shows wine served sacred purposes. Scholars point to widespread influence from the cults of Dionysus and Bacchus, supported by place names like Bakhvi and Askana in Guria, which may link to Bacchus and related figures.
The native Georgian wine deity was likely Aguna, also called Angura, who oversaw vineyard fertility and bountiful harvests. Rituals in his honor survived in western regions such as Guria and Lechkhumi into modern times. The Persian word for grape, angur, adds an interesting linguistic parallel, highlighting cultural exchanges across the ancient world.
In later periods, wine cellars became sacred spaces where major rituals for religious holidays took place. Baptisms and weddings frequently occurred there as well. Premium wines dedicated to saints were known as zedashe and often aged in kvevris buried near churches. In mountain areas without local vineyards, fresh sweet wine was transported from the valleys and stored in jars on site.
Foreign visitors repeatedly commented on Georgian attitudes toward wine. A Venetian ambassador in the late Middle Ages observed that abundant wine signaled the highest hospitality. An Italian traveler in mid-17th-century Samegrelo noted that a man who could drink heavily yet keep his wits was highly respected. Another Italian missionary, Castelli, sketched scenes of toasting ceremonies, brides receiving toasts, and even bishops kneeling before women while drinking from shoes—an unusual sight to outsiders. He remarked on men drinking freely in women’s presence while women remained very moderate.
A 19th-century Russian traveler expressed astonishment at the large quantities consumed without resulting drunkenness, comparing Georgians favorably to French, Spanish, Italian, and Greek drinkers. Earlier, the French traveler Chardin praised both the self-control shown during drinking and the exceptional variety and quality of wines, stating no other land matched it.
The 18th-century Georgian geographer Vakhushti Bagrationi described regional differences in detail: Kakhetian wines were kind and good, with Kondoli varieties called noble; Kartlian wines were somewhat sour yet pleasant; Ateni produced the finest overall; Imeretian wines were lighter and fragrant, healthier than those from Guria or Samegrelo; and Zerdagi from Megrelia stood out for its distinctive high quality.
He also observed that the line between mountain and valley was marked by where vines could grow. Kakheti’s vineyards thrived in lowland areas, though the map of wine production has shifted considerably over time.
Historical records list impressive numbers of local grape varieties: 66 in Kakheti, 59 in Guria, 53 in Samegrelo, and 48 in Abkhazia. Sadly, Guria, Samegrelo, and Abkhazia no longer rank as major wine regions today, despite once-vibrant traditions that declined over the past two centuries.
Georgian winemaking faced repeated threats. Wars displaced populations and allowed vineyards to become overgrown. In the 1880s, the phylloxera pest posed a severe danger. While Russian experts tried chemical treatments without success, local agronomist Ioseb Guntsadze from the village of Kvaliti solved the crisis by grafting Georgian vines onto resistant American rootstock.
Under Soviet rule, production volume rose sharply but quality suffered, and many unique varieties were sidelined in favor of just three main types: rkatsiteli, saperavi, and tsolikauri. After independence in the 1990s, renewed efforts focused on restoring traditional methods and reviving rare grapes such as Usakhelouri in Lechkhumi, Ojaleshi and others in Samegrelo, Chkhaveri in Guria, and various types in Kakheti and Kartli.
A few years ago, the ancient Georgian practice of fermenting and aging wine in kvevri received UNESCO recognition as part of humanity’s intangible cultural heritage. Today, roughly five hundred grape varieties grow in Georgia, and the country’s distinctive wines are gradually carving out a respected position in international markets.