Belgium's Trappist brewers bow to market forces

Since 1862 one of Belgium's favourite beers has been brewed to a traditional recipe at Scourmont abbey near Chimay in the south of Belgium, under the watchful eye of a strict order of Trappist monks.

Since 1862 one of Belgium's favourite beers has been brewed to a traditional recipe at Scourmont abbey near Chimay in the south of Belgium, under the watchful eye of a strict order of Trappist monks.

But this week, the Cistercian priests, dedicated to a life of chastity and silence, will make a concession to the modern era when their famous Chimay brand has a makeover.

Out will go the plain but familiar label that has adorned beer bottles for a quarter of a century. In will come a "younger, more lively" design with "bright, dynamic colours".

The producers say the aim is to make Chimay a "more visible" and "more value-enhancing" brand, catching the eye of customers in bars from Brussels to Boston, Massachusetts. This language is a long way from that used by the abbey's founding fathers, who established their community in 1850 and sold their produce under the slogan "a beer brewed with knowledge is tasted with wisdom".

But the remote and pious community has been caught up in Belgium's beer wars and the fathers are facing growing competition from imitators backed by global food and drink corporations.

The new, aggressive climate has brought with it a boom in "abbey beers", copying the Trappist style of strong brews (Chimay's Red Cap is 7 per cent alcohol by volume, its Blue Cap 9 per cent).

Ironically, while the Trappists have refused to use pictures of monks to promote their beers, the big brewers have had few scruples about featuring rotund Friar Tuck lookalikes in TV advertising.

Michael Weber, export manager for Bieres de Chimay, the company owned by l'Abbaye de Scourmont and which bottles and sells its beer, says the religious link to these new beers is often spurious.

"Sometimes they use the name of abbeys with their agreement, offering some royalties," he says. "But they also use names of abbeys that no longer exist, or never existed. Abbey beers often show monks on the label, the authentic product does not. When you see monks, you can be sure this is not the real thing."

The trend poses a clear threat not just to the Chimay monks but to Belgium's four other Trappist brewing communities. To qualify for the genuine title, production must be at a Trappist abbey by, or under the control of monks, and the bulk of profits must go to the religious order.

Monks have been brewers in Belgium since the Middle Ages, originally because the water supply was so contaminated that it had to be boiled. Beer was healthier.

In the 150 years since Scourmont was founded, the national drink has become big business and Belgium now boasts the world's second biggest player in the global drinks industry, Interbrew.

Only a small amount of Chimay is consumed by the monks, who usually drink a weaker brew that is not marketed, but the proceeds of their £12m annual turnover from 1.3 million cases of beer are vital to the order's survival. The profits not only sustain the abbey in Belgium but communities in the Congo, India and Caldy Island in Wales.

Thus the monks have had to adapt to survive. Amid the shiny silver machinery and banks of computers in the brew house at Chimay, there is only one hint that this is a different type of brewery, a discreet crucifix above one storeroom door.

Mr Weber says technicians from Interbrew have been surprised to find processes at Chimay at least as advanced as theirs. With an unpasteurised beer such as Chimay, cleanliness is next to godliness and anyway, adds Mr Weber, "you cannot produce a beer in the same way it was brewed 100 years ago. Consumers would not accept that one brew was different from another. It has to be consistent."

Chimay has adapted in other ways. Trappist monks cannot speak except when strictly necessary for work. Consequently most brewing is done by lay people under the supervision of a brewmaster, a position now vacant after the recent and unexpected death of Father Thomas. The beer is bottled at an industrial park a few kilometres away (to avoid disturbing the abbey's tranquillity) from where all the commercial side is masterminded.

This week Chimay will complete its reforms by revamping its labels in the attempt to increase exports. With the Belgian market saturated, Chimay wants to extend sales in France, Britain, America and a host of other countries. Mr Weber has limits. There will, he says, be advertising to promote brand awareness but nothing in the least tacky.

"There is no way we could ever, for example, use pictures of nude girls. The abbey has to give the green light. We have to remain classical and traditional and respect the wishes of our only shareholder."