Editorial: The Swartland Revolution – honouring the past, looking ahead
By Christian Eedes, 22 July 2025
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Earlier this year, I asked a simple question: Can we still, in good faith, call the Swartland Revolution a revolution?
It landed harder than expected. Some dismissed it as sour grapes – Winemag taking shots from the sidelines. Others found it pedantic, arguing that parsing terminology missed the point of what has undeniably been one of the most exciting stories in South African wine over the past 20 years.
Fair points. But my argument was never meant to be that “revolution,” as applied to the Swartland, was entirely misplaced. Rather, it’s a word that carries too much weight to be used lightly. In a country where political, economic and social revolutions remain unfinished business, words matter. So do the stories we tell about where we’ve been – and where we think we’re going.
Let’s return to the thread. Not to walk anything back, but to move things forward – on firmer, clearer terms.
Let’s start with this: the Swartland Revolution has changed the game. That’s not up for debate. The original group – Sadie, Mullineux, Badenhorst, Porseleinberg – didn’t just redefine a region; they redefined an attitude. A way of making wine that was less about legacy, more about clarity of intent.
Two decades ago, the Swartland was mostly bulk. Hot climate, big yields, nothing more than reliable entry-level wine. Now, it’s a benchmark for purity, restraint, and site-specific expression. That’s no small thing.
What’s more, it gave others a blueprint. A signal that you don’t need a Cape Dutch gable or flagship Bordeaux blend to matter. All over the winelands, you’ll find producers who picked up on that signal, broke with convention, and went their own way.
That’s revolutionary – maybe not in a political science textbook sense, but close enough to count.
The point of the original piece wasn’t to diminish any of this. It was, however, to ask what happens when rebels settle into their triumphs. When those who once pushed against the establishment find themselves becoming part of it – not by design, but by success. When the circle gets smaller, not bigger.
This year’s R9,500 ticket price wasn’t just a number. It was a line in the sand. A reminder that something once radical can start to look curated, exclusive, closed to the average punter.
To be clear, I wasn’t looking for a comp. That’s not the issue. The issue is whether something that once stood for disruption still does – or whether it’s become more interested in preserving its image than expanding its reach.
That’s the tension: between control and openness, between excellence and accessibility, between applause and accountability.
Winemag has never been in the business of cheerleading. I cannot express this strongly enough. Our role is to ask the questions others might avoid – not because we’re out to score points, but because the industry is better for it.
So, let’s ask again: has the revolution stalled? Not failed – but perhaps slowed. Levelled off. Its key players a little less hungry, a little more comfortable.
Real transformation isn’t only about a few standout producers gaining international recognition. It’s about broader change – shifts in how the industry works, who gets access, and who benefits. Progress should be felt beyond the top tier, reaching across the entire value chain.
Yes, the Swartland has shown the way on terroir, minimal intervention, and authenticity. But most South African wine is still made under very different conditions — underpaid labour, depressed pricing, low visibility. That’s the real context.
The original group never claimed to speak for the entire industry. But success has a way of narrowing the lens – of creating its own mythology. What begins as a heartfelt movement often evolves into a valuable brand. And brands, by their nature, come to require custodianship and protection.
The original energy hasn’t entirely disappeared — it’s just shifted. You’ll find it in Ceres Plateau, Stanford, Piket-Bo-Berg and Polkadraai Hills. In the rise of regenerative farming. In the growing appreciation for old vines as an industry asset. In efforts to rewrite the language of wine for non-traditional audiences.
What’s needed now is something of a reckoning. With what’s been built. With who’s been left out (and that remains a massive issue as should be clear to any reasonably minded person). With where the next wave of momentum comes from.
The organisers of the Swartland event ultimately have nothing to apologise for. They helped raise the bar across the board, and South African wine is stronger for it. That said, if the Swartland wants to keep that revolutionary tag, it may need to lean back into that original disquiet that fuelled change – to be open to critique, to disagreement, to reinvention.
The point is that revolutions, by nature, aren’t comfortable. They’re messy, disruptive, uneasy. They don’t neatly come to an end but are always an on-going process. The ideals that first defined Sadie and company – sustainability in every sense (economic, social, environmental) and a relentless pursuit of excellence – are still very much worth holding onto. To adapt Churchill, this is not the end of the revolution. It’s not even the beginning of the end. But it’s perhaps the end of the beginning…
Desmond Kruger | 22 July 2025
Excellent article and insights Christian!! Perhaps the revolution has not stalled or no longer relevant, rather it has attained its objective! Time to celebrate the Swartland as the Swartland, me thinks! Full of amazing wine makers and wine, given a push by the revolution, but now firmly established!
Kim Hoepfl | 22 July 2025
Eloquent words and, and some insightful and precise thinking. I enjoyed your two cents worth very much. Thanks Christian.
Erwin Lingenfelder | 22 July 2025
In this country onetime revolutionaries led to democracy. Unfortunately history tells us that it made almost no difference to the quality of life for the unwashed masses. A new revolution is required!
Getting away with R9 500 is a clear sign that the revolutionaries in Swartland have become fat cats. I have been a wine collector and drinker since 1975. Did I support the Swartland revolution when it started? Yes! Do I still support it? No! The wine, supported by a very loyal wine critic, has become unaffordable. Don’t despair though: there are still many affordable wines in South Africa, and as a wine drinker with 50 years experience I can assure you they are as good, and even better than the hallowed Swartland luminaries.
Jurgen | 22 July 2025
It feels as though we’re still skirting around a few issues – labour and inequity, perhaps a lack of diversity the general position and health of the industry and exclusivity of the 5 forerunners. All seemingly weighed against the price tag for an event.
I have a strong sense that the kind of mentorship offered by folks like Duncan Savage, Adi and Rosa’s efforts are somewhat glibly overlooked. Add Great Heart wine to the list. The way everyone is welcome to sit and share a glass over some (bloody good) pizza at Kalmoesfontein, regardless of their ‘status,’ is to me more representative of the true heartbeat. The fact that international interns flock to the region and share that experience year after year, cultivating a sharing, growing, learning culture. From Jan Boland forwards people passionate about fermented grapes laid a groundwork. We’re still laying bricks. Building something very special. And the entry fee to our vinous palace of pleasure? Just be lekker.
(If we need to talk diversity and inequity, let’s keep it clean. Let’s confront that head on. Rather than cloud the issues).
Erwin Lingenfelder | 22 July 2025
Jurgen. You highlight valid points. But IMO they harmed their reputation with that ticket price. The Swartland belongs to all of us, just like Stellenbosch, Hemel-en Aarde and the rest.
Gal Gestin | 24 July 2025
As an SR veteran, I too thought R9500 to be excessive. I remain a Swartland enthusiast. Like the ANC, revolutionaries become capitalists. “We did not fight to be poor”. Nobody is forced to attend the event.
Milly Vannila | 26 July 2025
The wine industry is as old if not older than minerals (gold and diamond) in South Africa. Yet, it has always been exclusive to the minority. Even at high schools kids are taught about the discovery of gold and how it shapes the economy but nothing of that sort has happened with the wine industry.
I’ve worked at few public libraries over the past 14 years yet I never came across any books relating to wine. Commodities even trade shares and ETFs on the JSE and the wine industry with over 3 centuries you can’t invest in them. The higher education curriculum has taught us how gold, platinum, diamond contribute to the GDP of the country. But the same information with wine industry is not easily accessible or available.
Where am I going with this ?
Well my point is, the complexity and depth of wines doesn’t end with it’s taste profiles and long finishes but goes beyond. When Gestin, says “we did not fight to be poor” and R9,500 right of admission point to the illusion that wine is not meant to be enjoyed and accessed by the underprivileged. Exclusivity will eventually bring about death of the wine industry for as long as they can’t form a personal relationship with it.
Earlier on I made a reference to books and the library because wine is probably the one beverage you can’t drink absent-minded without understanding certain principles and general rules for you to make the best of your experiences. To fully explore wine, you need to read more about it, to make the best of every moment.
Caleb Van Oudtshoorn | 29 July 2025
This is an important and necessary reflection, but I believe it’s time we expand the conversation beyond critique and self-reflection and start reframing the lens through which we view South African wine — and by extension, ourselves.
South Africa needs to stop viewing itself as a “developing” wine nation forever catching up. We are not a junior player. Year after year, our wines are benchmarked among the world’s best. For three consecutive years, South African Cabernets have taken top global honours — not as a sympathy nod, but because they are, in fact, world class. If this were happening in Bordeaux or Napa, no one would flinch at the price tag — it would be assumed, even expected. Yet when South African wines assert their value, we hesitate, debate, apologise. Why?
There is, of course, validity in the concerns about exclusivity and accessibility. Any industry worth building must broaden its base of knowledge, shared expertise, and inclusion. But let’s also recognise that excellence and accessibility are not mutually exclusive. A high ticket price for a flagship event does not negate the movement’s impact or relevance. Rather than seeing it as a line in the sand, perhaps it’s an invitation: to deepen the dialogue, expand participation, and evolve the model.
The Swartland didn’t just spark a stylistic revolution — it shifted attitude. It demonstrated that authenticity, intent, and terroir could transcend legacy. That work isn’t over. But we shouldn’t diminish its current expression simply because it now wears a sharper suit.
The real question is not whether the revolution has stalled. It’s whether South Africa is ready to stop waiting for permission to lead — and start doing so unapologetically. Our wines, our winemakers, and our land are already good enough. The world knows it. It’s time we did too.
Let’s move forward — not with a chip on our shoulder, but with clarity, confidence, and a commitment to both excellence and transformation.