Hasuna Olive Oil Press

Olive oil production was a flourishing industry in this area throughout the 19th century and up until the early 20th century. Olive groves have speckled this ancient land long before the State of Israel or the foundation of the city of Lod (and the latter says a lot, as local pottery finds — which indicate settlement — date back 5600-5250 BCE).

In the 1876 July issue of The Atlantic, writer Charles Dudley Warner states, in a piece titled ‘From Jaffa to Jerusalem’, “we come in sight of Ramleh, which lies on the swelling mounds of the green plain, encompassed by emerald meadows and by groves of orange and olive, and conspicuous from a great distance by its elegant square tower, the most beautiful in form that we have seen in the East.” We know Ramleh as Lod’s sister city as they are often coupled together; the 6-kilometer space between them is even called ‘Ramlod’.

In the mid-19th century, a missionary named Dr. William M. Thompson visited the city and described it in his 1859 book titled The Land and the Book. He writes that Lod (Lydda) is a “flourishing village of some 2,000 inhabitants, imbosomed in noble orchards of olive, fig, pomegranate, mulberry, sycamore, and other trees, surrounded every way by a very fertile neighbourhood. The inhabitants are evidently industrious and thriving, and the whole country between this and Ramleh is fast being filled up with their flourishing orchards. Rarely have I beheld a rural scene more delightful than this presented in early harvest ... It must be seen, heard, and enjoyed to be appreciated.”

The Hasuna family olive-oil press was built at the end of the Ottoman period and remained active until 1948. The traditional production facilities inside the press are still intact; this includes the olive oil extraction area, a space for the production of tahini and other sesame products, and an area for making olive-oil soap. Most of the machines inside were operated by a central diesel engine, which also remains intact inside.

The olive harvests were separated according to the different groves. This ensured that landowners could keep track of the oil that was produced from his olives and track the product quality. Peasants from nearby villages also brought their olives and sesame to the factory, where they were able to see their produce turned into consumable goods. The payment was made by taking a percentage of the oil and tahini produced.

Olives were put into the crushing machine where the olive ‘meat’ and the fat-rich pits are crushed together. The olive paste would then be put into round, car-tire shaped, fiber bags, called ‘aqal in Arabic. The ‘aqals were then stacked inside a press that extracted the oil from the crushed olives using immense pressure. Ensuring this pressure used to be achieved by a long wooden beam with weights hung from its end. Later on, they used a large screw that was gradually turned in order to increase the pressure.

It is apparent that this old olive press was incredibly significant to the urban landscape of old Lydda. The remnants of this structure tell us about the productive nature of old Lod, this is matched by Thompson's description. We can see that the city’s story is interwoven and intricately connected to its surrounding nature. We can almost feel how important and bustling this site would have been. The local organization Jindas plans to preserve this olive press in their urban revitalization process; they see this historic site as a vital detail in the retelling of Lod’s narrative and hope that this site will remain ingrained in our collective memory as a way of preserving Lod’s history.