“Things used to be sweeter here” is the kind of statement that might make the person saying it sound a little sour. But when it comes from veterans of the honey industry, the facts back them up.
Kibbutz Yad Mordechai, which marks its 90th anniversary this year, has become a symbol of Israeli honey. The kibbutz was founded through the merger of groups of immigrants from Poland and Galicia. It entered the world of honey thanks to pioneer Lucia (Lusha) Friedman, who learned the secrets of beekeeping from an Australian soldier. In its early years, the honey industry was one of the few agricultural sectors in which women played an active role. The female pioneers worked for years raising bees, extracting honey and managing the apiary. Later, kibbutz member Dolek Blonsky took over the operation.
Eitan Zion, who managed the apiary for 35 years, said: “During the War of Independence, they evacuated the children from here — and the beehives. Two weeks before the fighting broke out, the kibbutz members realized the situation was going to be bad and decided to evacuate the hives. They were moved to Ness Ziona. Six months later, the members returned to the kibbutz, and the first thing Dolek did was bring the hives back.”
Zion said that in the early years of the state, Yad Mordechai’s bees managed to produce an average of 50 kilograms of honey per hive, with a record of 80 kilograms. They had more foraging areas and more trees, flowers and plants. Simply put, there was much more food. Over time, an accelerating process of natural forage loss took hold because of development, road construction and tree cutting. As a result, each hive now produces an average of about 35 kilograms of honey.
The first crane used for the beehives, 1963
(Photo: National Library of Israel)
Celebrations at Yad Mordechai in 1965
(Photo: National Library of Israel)
Pini Nahmani, 84, of Yokneam Moshava, is one of the best-known beekeepers in the area. Nahmani, a former Israeli Air Force pilot, was captured by Syria in the 1970s and spent more than three years in captivity. One of the books he read while a prisoner was about bees and beekeeping. When he returned to Israel, he came home with a new hobby.
“In the past, there were vast citrus-growing areas that produced high honey yields,” he said. “The new varieties produce less. Eighty kilograms of honey? Go find me something like that now. I planted about 6,000 trees in Yokneam so I wouldn’t have to take the hives to the Golan Heights. The honey I have now is hyssop-za’atar honey, and there is also cotton honey, eucalyptus honey and carob honey.”
Pini Nahmani
(Photo: Avihu Shapira)
Beyond honey production, bees are essential for pollinating agricultural crops worth billions of shekels to Israel’s economy, making their preservation critical. Gil Shatzberg, CEO of the Pollination and Honey Council, which has about 540 registered beekeepers, said: “We allocate foraging areas for bees and make sure this is done in a way that allows the maximum number of bees to live — and thrive — in a given area. Places with more nectar have many hives, while places with less nectar have fewer. There isn’t much we can do about construction, but we are trying to improve the situation by planting trees and plants that provide bees with more habitat.”
Pini Nahmani with President Isaac Herzog and his wife, Michal
(Photo: Avihu Shapira)
The council recently launched a project with the Volcani Institute to reintroduce jujube trees in Israel. The pilot program is being conducted in the Hefer Valley.
“Jujube produces excellent honey,” Shatzberg explained. “Jujube honey is very popular around the world, and people are willing to pay a lot for it. We are going to plant more and more jujube trees. It is a native tree that grows well in many parts of the country, from the Golan Heights to the northern Negev.”
And to return for a moment to Yad Mordechai: In 1952, the kibbutz’s ninth edition of its “Yediot HaMeshek” newsletter reported that the country’s natural conditions were only getting better.
“No one will dispute the importance of the honey industry to the kibbutz economy,” Dolek wrote, “to the orchards and to the members themselves. Even if it is modest and small in scale, the return it generates per workday is among the highest, and its produce is beloved by young and old alike!... You see? We are in good company!”