‘We built this land’: descendants of enslaved people are reclaiming their history across South Africa’s vineyards

At Groot Constantia, the oldest wine farm in South Africa, the 450,000 visitors who pass through its gates annually can admire the picturesque vineyards sloping towards a bay ringed by mountains or enjoy a glass of sweet Grand Constance, reputed to have been Napoleon’s favourite wine.

Unusually among the region’s old vineyards, there is also a museum that includes the history of slavery, run by state body Iziko Museums. Panels display information about enslaved people – about 30 of whom lived on the estate at any given time from its founding in 1685 until slavery was abolished in 1834 by the British colonial government – detailing everything from their work to what they ate.

Two plaques list the names of people forcibly taken from Mozambique, Madagascar, India, Sri Lanka and Indonesia. “Today we pay tribute and acknowledge the enormous contribution of these men, women and children in the success of Groot Constantia and also acknowledge their oppression and suffering under slavery and their resilience and courage,” the plaques read.

“We have accepted that it’s part of our history and we are actually grateful for what they have done,” said Groot Constantia CEO, Jean Naudé. “It’s sad that it was built on that unsound foundation, but the foundation is there and the least we can do today is to build something proper on that foundation.”

Although there is no complete data, historians agree that only a handful of estates explicitly acknowledge their history of enslavement, in an industry that sold R36.3bn (£1.65bn) of wine last year. Groot Constantia is also unusual in having been owned by the South African government from 1885 to 1993, then transferred to a not-for-profit trust.

Jan van Riebeeck established a colony for the Dutch East India Company in what is now Cape Town in 1652, and the first enslaved people were brought there within a few years to work in houses and on farms. By the 19th century, the 21 most prominent wine industry families owned 3,557 enslaved people between them, according to Wayne Dooling, a School of Oriental and African Studies lecturer.

“The wine industry was very dependent on enslaved labour,” said Kate Ekama, a historian at Stellenbosch University. By the 1820s, according to her research, about 80% of “coerced” workers were enslaved, with the remainder dispossessed Indigenous people.

“People don’t want to sully their legacy,” Linda Mbeki, the Iziko Museums curator at Groot Constantia, said of the absence of slavery memorials from most historic wine farms. “To acknowledge slavery history; to acknowledge culpability, if not directly, comes with privilege and generational wealth.”

Nonetheless, Groot Constantia still faces criticism from unions and workers’ rights groups who draw a line from slavery, through colonialism and apartheid, to the present conditions of wine farm workers, many of whom are descended from enslaved people.

At least 10 families, mostly of former workers, have been evicted from the farm since July, according to the Trust for Community Outreach and Education (TCOE), an NGO, and the Commercial, Stevedoring, Agricultural and Allied Workers Union (CSAAWU).

“You may want to claim the history of being the oldest wine farm, but at the same time those that have given their labour and that have built the sector can be easily dispensed of,” said Mercia Andrews, a TCOE director.

Naudé said that evictions did not take place without a court order and referred to comments he made about previous evictions in 2024, when he said: “As a responsible and progressive employer, Groot Constantia upholds fairness and complies with all relevant laws at all times for all employees … ensuring all policies are implemented consistently and equitably.”

Rico Basson, CEO of South Africa Wine, an industry body, acknowledged that slavery had “left deep social and economic inequalities”.

“These are serious issues that cannot be separated from broader conversations about dignity, opportunity and fair treatment in the workplace. Acknowledging our history and improving the circumstances of those who contribute to our industry today are both important,” he said.

One farm that has tried to acknowledge its history and redress inequality is Solms-Delta, in Franschhoek, 40 miles east of Cape Town. “It’s not just some abstract historical principle,” said neuropsychology professor Mark Solms, who bought the estate in 2001. “You live in a big house on a farm with a whole lot of poor people, who are there as a direct result of that history and are impoverished as a direct result of that history.”

Nico Jansen is the third generation of his father’s family living on Solms-Delta, which was founded in 1690. When he was appointed as estate manager in 2001, he initially didn’t believe Solm’s promises to renovate their houses or raise wages above those of neighbouring farms.

“I wanted to exploit him as much as possible … so he can’t take the houses back to the old days, so if he wants to leave, then we are already in a better place,” said Jansen, who identifies his heritage as indigenous Khoikhoi.

In 2005, Solms helped the workers set up a trust and take out a loan to buy a neighbouring farm for themselves. From 2004 to 2016, the farm employed a historian, Tracey Randle, who carried out excavations, set up a history museum and helped the workers bring their musical traditions back to life.

However, the farm is not currently operating. According to Solms, in 2016 the government stepped in to take over the workers’ shares, but did not put in the promised financial contribution, pushing the indebted estate into a business rescue process.

A spokesperson for the department of rural development and land reform did not respond to a request for comment. A 2018 statement blamed Solms-Delta’s problems on “accumulated debt and poor management” at the time of the government takeover, adding: “The challenges that have arisen have forced the department to cease the continued funding of Solms-Delta in its present form.”

Tommy Hall, an American technology executive, has pledged to buy back the government’s shares for the workers and invest in the business. Negotiations with the government are ongoing, Solms and Jansen said, and they hope to reopen the farm and sell wine again in about a year.

Jansen noted that many other wine farms were evicting workers whose families had lived there for generations, often since the time of slavery. “We built this land with our blood and tears and sweat,” he said. “And now it’s being taken away.”