The Moldovan economy escapes ties with Russia. Wine growing shows how

High visitors in Moldova can count on a warm welcome in the famous cellars of the winery Cricova: diplomacy and wine go hand in hand in the Eastern European country. It is the second largest wine cellar in the world (the world’s largest is located on the other side of the Moldovan capital Chisinau) and is in fact a subterranean city. More than 120 kilometers of corridors stretch out in an old limestone quarry.

Ordinary mortals can also take a look here: visitors whiz through endless galleries of wine barrels in a kind of elongated golf cart. Road signs and street names show the way. 100 meters higher on the surface are the vineyards of Cricova, around the town of the same name. In early spring, the vines are still naked.

A world map shows with strings and photos, as in a police investigation, who has visited the cellars: John Kerry, the Belgian King Albert II, Aleksandr Lukashenko and many others. For important statesmen, the Moldovan government unpacks: some get a personal niche or caza (‘house’) in the cellars, where they can store their other gifts – bottles of wine, of course – for a possible next visit. Angela Merkel, José Manuel Barroso and Vladimir Putin, who celebrated his 50th birthday here in 2002, have such a niche. There is normally a nameplate and a flag next to it. Those are now gone. When asked about the location of Putin’s wine bottles, the guide laughs nervously. ‘No idea.’

Interim director Maslo Sorin looks hard when he hears the same question. “At the moment we are not promoting the names of heads of state and politicians, as this could be interpreted negatively in the context of recent developments,” he explains cautiously. (“We had already said: no political questions,” the spokesman notes).

No oil, but wine

Moldova is accustomed to maintain political and economic relations with East and West, which rubs off in times of war. The Moldovan agricultural economist Veaceslav Ionita thinks the removal of the signs is ‘excessively neutral’, he says on the phone, but points out that Moldova is in a ‘delicate position’. ‘We do not support Russia, but we do not participate in the sanctions, for example. Besides, I don’t know if that’s wise.’

According to Ionita, Moldova’s economic future lies with the European Union, which the country hopes to eventually become a member of. The Moldovan government recently received a questionnaire from Brussels, one of the first steps in the accession process. This development has been apparent for some time, especially in wine growing. Moldova is focusing less and less on Russia and more on the EU and other continents.

This can be seen in the office of Cricova director Sorin. On the wall of his office, to the right of an aquarium with tropical fish, hangs a gilded world map with flags of the countries to which the winery exports. Cricova, which mainly focuses on sparkling wines (‘Crisecco’, as one of the wines is called), exports to Poland, Romania, the United States, China, Brazil – worldwide. Just like other Moldovan winemakers.

That has sometimes been different. Moldovan wine, like the country itself, has traditionally been closely intertwined with Russia. The oldest winery in the country was opened by the Russian Tsar, in the 20th century Moldova was the vineyard of the Soviet Union. Moldova is not known in the Netherlands as a wine country, but the tradition of viticulture goes back more than five thousand years. The calcareous soil and the location near the Black Sea lead to a good wine climate. “We have no oil or valuable ores in Moldova,” says director Sorin. “But we do have wine.”

After the dissolution of the Soviet Union, economic relations with Russia remained close. ‘During the transition, mainly Russian money was invested in the wine industry,’ says economist Ionita. The product then went to the Russian market. It turned out to be erratic. After Moldova approached the European market, trade embargoes from Russia followed, including on wine. First in 2006 and later again in 2013, because of the association agreement that the country wanted to sign with the EU. Purely political, says Ionita: ‘Russia wanted to kill our economy in this way.’

Russian embargo

The embargoes were a danger to the rural economy, winemaker Elizaveta Breahna also recalls. Now she is director of the National Bureau of Viticulture and Wine, which has an office in the center of Chisinau. ‘More than 85 percent of Moldovan wine is destined for export.’ Moldovans are big wine drinkers, but most people prefer homemade wine. ‘Especially in the countryside. Almost every family has its own small vineyard.’

The Russian embargo shook the Moldovan winegrowers awake. ‘We understood that rapprochement with the European market was necessary.’ However, the wine did not always meet the high standards of the EU’s internal market. A legacy of the Soviet era, Breahna says, when quantity trumped quality and Moldova mainly supplied bulk products rather than well-aged wines. So Moldova started making better wines and replaced bulk exports with quality wine in bottles.

It pays off, says Breahna. ‘This way we get much better prices for our wine on the European market.’ The country still exports wine in bulk to former Soviet states such as Belarus, but this is less attractive than in the past due to the high prices that the EU is willing to pay. In the meantime, Russia has lifted the embargo for several wineries (fifteen of the approximately 2,200, Cricova is one of them). But nowadays Moldovan winemakers prefer to farm in the EU. According to economist Ionita, Moldova has only become stronger because of the trade conflicts with Russia. “Sometimes I joke that they should actually give Putin an award. Few people have done as much for the Moldovan economy as he has. He forced us to escape from Russia.’