“We make beer, but it’s not just beer — it’s a story,” says Madees Khoury, general manager of what is widely considered the Middle East’s oldest microbrewery, Taybeh Brewing Co. Since joining the family business in 2007, when she says she trained to become the region’s first and only female brewmaster, Khoury has helped drive that story forward and further, extending Taybeh’s reach to 17 countries across Europe, Asia and North America and expanding its brewing capacity.

That effort has not been without hurdles. Running the business in its namesake village (whose name fortuitously means “delicious” in Arabic) in the Israeli-occupied West Bank makes exporting a challenge — one that Khoury says has only worsened since October 7, 2023. Recent Israeli settler attacks have left many residents feeling helpless.

Speaking with Reuters from Glasgow, where she recently unveiled a new collaboration with the Scottish firm Brewgooder, Khoury reflects on the evolution of beer-making in the region, the challenges of brewing under occupation, and why she sees beer as a form of Palestinian soft power.

My family started the first microbrewery in the Middle East in 1994, right after the Oslo Accords. I pretty much grew up in the brewery: folding boxes and being in my dad and uncle’s way and running around and just watching them build a business. Right after college (in) Boston, I decided to book a one-way ticket and move back and work with the family full-time. I’ve been officially working since 2007, but technically since I was nine years old.

If we’re going to go way back: When the pyramids were being built, the workers were getting paid with beer and bread because, at the time, beer was cleaner than water. Some people say that beer first started in (modern-day) Iraq. So there’s a history of beer making and winemaking in the region.

My family goes back 600 years in Taybeh. My dad picked up on home-brewing when he was studying business (in Boston), and he used to make beer in the dorms. After college, he went to UC Davis in California and became a master brewer. It was his dream to open a brewery.

My uncle and dad were thinking of opening a brewery in Boston, but when Oslo happened in 1993, there was a hopeful future for Palestinians. My grandfather wanted his two sons to come back to Palestine, for us kids to learn the language and culture and to grow up in Taybeh. So he told them, “Why not open a brewery in Palestine?” My dad and uncle challenged my grandfather and told him, “If you can get us the permits and licenses to open a brewery, we’ll move back. If not, we’re staying.”

So immediately, my grandfather bought the land, built the building, and got the permits and licenses. He even went to Yasser Arafat and got the blessing from him and told my dad and uncle, “yalla,” which means “come on.” So that’s how it started in 1994. (We) launched the first beer in August, the Taybeh Golden.

My dad’s name, Nadeem, in Arabic it means your drinking companion, the person you drink with. The man was destined to make beer and wine!