Settler Violence = State Violence
Over the past decade, settlement outposts and “agricultural farms” have become one of Israel's primary methods for taking over land in the West Bank and driving Palestinian communities out. Unlike the bureaucratic process involved in establishing an official settlement, which is legal under Israeli law, ‘pirate’ outposts can be set up quickly, with relatively few resources and laborers. Taking control of farmland via setting up outposts also allows the state to evade direct responsibility for land seizure and shrug off the violent, illegal acts by settlers involved in the process, while effectively supporting them in various ways. By using these settlers as proxies, the state frames the establishment of outposts as an issue of law enforcement rather than policy.These outposts are set up quickly in key areas of the West Bank. They establish facts on the ground by invading private Palestinian land with herds of sheep and cattle, goading residents into confrontations and assaulting them. In some cases, the outposts are established without formal approval from the Israeli authorities, and in others, they are set up in cooperation with the authorities, relying on agreements concerning land allocation for agricultural needs, such as grazing and farming. Even in cases where land has been allocated by the state, the settlers often go beyond the allotted territory, expanding the territory under their control.The military often cooperates with these settlers by not demolishing structures built by them and by sending troops to guard them, who then often actively join in efforts to expel the Palestinian residents. Since 7 October 2023, this activity has greatly increased in both scope and frequency, with settlers ramping up violence and the military actively involved. This recent spike has so far driven at least 19 Palestinian communities from their homes and placed many more under serious threat.The Mitzpe Yehuda/Tzon Kedar outpost was established in September 2019 in Bariyet a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah, arid pastureland east of the town of the same name in al-Quds District. The outpost consists of several structures, including a café, and hosts events and weddings; a flock of sheep has also been brought there.This area had long been used by farmers from a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah to grow crops and graze flocks. Some of the land is privately owned by residents of the town. Some farmers live in shacks they built on their lands to tend to their flocks and cultivate the land, while maintaining homes in the town. Additionally, for decades, Bedouins from the al-Hazalin tribe—who relocated to the area after being expelled from the Negev by Israel in the 1950s—have lived in the area. There they established the al-Muntar community, which comprises several residential clusters. Immediately after the outpost was set up there was a significant increase in harassment suffered by Palestinian residents. Settlers began invading their lands and damaging fences and crops, sometimes escorted by soldiers. Settlers also prevented some residents from reaching land they farmed and pastureland they used by threatening them at gunpoint. The restriction of available pastureland has forced shepherds who cannot afford to buy feed to sell most of their sheep. After 7 October 2023, settlers blocked the road leading from the town to the residents’ farmland and pastureland by putting up a dirt pile and concrete blocks, escorted by soldiers. This also blocked Palestinians from the town who live on their farmland and residents of al-Muntar from reaching the town for various services. At the same time, the settlers intensified their harassment of the farmers, threatening to hurt them if they did not leave the area, and preventing them from accessing pastureland or repairing their water wells. Settlers also broke into a resident’s home in the dead of night, set a neighboring house on fire, cut water pipes and vandalized fences. Some residents were forced to abandon their homes in the agricultural area out of fear for their lives, and farmers from the town stopped cultivating their lands. The residents repeatedly called the police and even filed complaints, to no avail. The police arrested one of the residents, who was released only two weeks later. The deliberate creation of such friction clearly demonstrates the motivation behind establishing outpost farms as settlers expand their control over these lands. The targeted harassment of Palestinian farmers by settlers from outposts creates a false show of symmetry between the settlers and the farmers, which the military then uses to justify removing Palestinians from their lands, often using force, under the pretext of security constraints. When such incidents recur, farmers’ access to their own lands is barred, preventing them from cultivating their fields and making a living from them. With the military’s backing, settlers exploit the situation they have created to take final control over Palestinian-owned lands. In February 2023, the Israeli government announced its intention to legalize the Tzon Kedar Farm and nine other outposts. A year later, in February 2024, the head of the Central Command signed an order regarding the jurisdiction of a new settlement named Mishmar Yehuda, among other things advancing the legalization of Tzon Qedar. The jurisdiction is apparently based on state land declared there and on land allegedly purchased by settlers from Palestinian landowners in 1992. This action completes Israel’s takeover of the land, which began with the outpost’s establishment, formalizing the residents’ loss of access to lands that served them until the outpost was built. Testimonies that B’Tselem field researcher ‘Amer ‘Aruri collected from several Palestinians who own pastureland in Bariyet a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah illustrate the impact of the outpost on their lives and the harassment they face from settlers and the military.On 9 May 2024, J.S. (31) said:I am married without children and work in agriculture. I own land in the pastureland of a-Sawahrah, east of the town. Before the establishment of Tzon Kedar, I lived in a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah and could easily reach my land. We felt safe here.Since the outpost was built, I started hearing from family members who lived on the land that settlers were attacking shepherds and not letting them reach pasture and farmland. This land has been ours for many generations. My father, my grandfathers and their grandfathers lived in this area and grazed huge flocks in these open spaces. I spent a lot of time here as a child with the family, with the sheep out in the pasture, and there was nothing to fear. The place was safe.Because it’s become so hard to access our land, I moved here with my wife a year ago. The settlers have reduced our grazing areas, which once spanned hundreds of dunams. Now we only have access to about ten dunams [~2.5 acres] right next to my house and my cousin N.S.’s house. Whenever we do try to reach the grazing areas near the outpost, the settlers threaten to shoot us with their rifles.The settlers also show up at our homes here, accompanied by soldiers. Once, a settler arrived with a map and said he’d bought the land my house and my cousin’s house are on. He also claimed that until recently, there were no structures here, even though my family had a trailer here, donated by an international organization 25 years ago. The settlers also cut the fence around our cultivated land and let their sheep roam there. They ate the crops we put so much work into.A week after 7 October 2023, while I was driving home, a settler blocked the road and told me I wasn’t allowed to reach the area by car. Later, the settlers and the army blocked the road to the town with a dirt mound and dug a trench next to it.One night after the war broke out, while my wife and I were asleep, three settlers suddenly knocked down our door and burst in. My wife started screaming and calling for help. The settlers told us we had to leave the area. One of them threatened me and said, “If you come near us, I’ll shoot you.” He said it was our final warning and that we had to leave.That night, my cousin’s house suddenly caught fire. It’s made of cement blocks and tin. I called in relatives from a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah, who arrived half an hour later and helped me put out the fire, but part of the house was destroyed. Thank God my cousin and his family weren’t home that night. Since the war began, his wife and children have been sleeping in town because they’re afraid of the settlers and their attacks on Palestinian communities across the West Bank, so that night he wasn’t there.Since the war began, I’ve filed three complaints against the settlers and the army, for cutting off our access to the town and for the invasion of my home, but nothing has come of it. Our complaints don’t lead to any action against the settlers.Today, 9 May 2024, we tried to repair a water cistern near our homes. We hired four workers for the job. But then an armed settler arrived and threatened us that if we didn’t stop the work, he would be back in an hour, shoot anyone working on the cistern and blow it up. The workers got scared and left, and the repairs stopped. Someone once cut the pipes leading water out of the cistern, and we suspect it was the settlers.N.S. (35), a father of four and cousin of J.S., a resident of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah, related on 9 May 2024:I am a farmer. My extended family owns about 500 dunams [~124 acres] in the pastureland of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah. My ancestors grew grains in this area and our family has been cultivating it since ancient times. I farm the same lands. My extended family has always had flocks of sheep that graze here.Since the settlers built their outpost a few years ago, our situation has deteriorated. Until then, we raised 500 sheep here and had access to all the grazing areas without interference. Now, to reach most of our land I have to go past the outpost, but the settlers don’t let me past and threaten to shoot me. That has reduced my grazing land from hundreds of dunams to about ten [~2.5 acres].Since 7 October 2023, the situation has got much worse. A week after the war started, I went shopping in town. When I got back at 5:30 A.M., I found part of my house burned down.I thank God that at the beginning of the war, I moved my family to our house in town because I feared the settlers would harm them. Otherwise, a disaster would have happened to us. No one but the settlers has an interest in burning our house. They are the ones trying to pressure us into leaving the area.Two weeks after the war began, the settlers and the army blocked the road leading from town to the pastureland with a dirt mound and dug a trench around it. We tried several times to unblock the road, but security guards from the nearby settlement of Qedar came and told us we were not allowed to open it. They threatened to confiscate our vehicle if we didn’t stop.The settlers continued to chase after the shepherds in the pastureland, armed with rifles. One time, they threatened to shoot me if I didn’t move my sheep away from the area by the outpost.All this has severely undermined our ability to make a living off of shepherding, and we’ve been forced to sell most of our flock. From a flock of 500 sheep, only 60 remain. Not only do the settlers prevent us from reaching our grazing land, but they also let their sheep–I estimate they have about 200–roam freely on our cultivated lands.On the tenth day of the last Ramadan, at 3:00 A.M., soldiers came to my house in six military vehicles and arrested me. They took me to the Russian Compound detention center in Jerusalem and accused me of multiple charges, all of which I denied.I told the interrogator that the only Jews I know are the two settlers who have been attacking me, threatening my life, and releasing their sheep onto my family’s farmland, while barring me from grazing my sheep and going near their outpost.I was held in the detention center for 14 days, in a cell with 15 other people. The cell had a toilet and six concrete bunks, so most of the detainees slept on the floor. There were no blankets. All we got to eat, twice a day, was an egg, four sausages and a slice of bread. That’s what we got even for the pre-fast meal, suhur, and the meal for breaking the fast, iftar. At night, we weren’t allowed to turn off the lights, which made it very hard to sleep.The guards stormed into the cell several times a day and beat all of us for no reason. Usually, the worst beatings occurred at night, after we went to sleep. I suffered many injuries to my head and chest from the beatings, but we didn’t get any medical treatment. People who had been detained in the past told me that before 7 October 2023, prison was different. After two weeks, I was released and went home.We get water from the town through plastic pipes, and we have a 500-liter tank. It takes a week to fill because the water pressure is weak. Three days ago, someone sabotaged our water pipes and cut them. I believe it was settlers from the outpost. This has happened more than once since October. The war has increased the settlers’ appetite for our lands, as well as their efforts to drive us out of the pastureland.Today, 9 May 2024, I hired four workers from the town to repair the water cistern by my house. At 9:30 A.M., while we were cleaning the cistern, a settler arrived with a gun and told me we had an hour to leave the place, or else he would shoot at and blow up the cistern. The workers got scared and refused to continue working after that. M.S. (34), a father of four and resident of the town of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah, said on 9 May 2024:I’m a farmer and started raising sheep about three years ago. I work on the farmland of my grandfather and father in the pastureland of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah. My late grandfather had a quarry in the area, which operated with an Israeli license, but stopped functioning about 30 years ago.My grandfather and father used to grow grains and raise sheep, and could access their lands freely back then. You could plant, sow and graze sheep everywhere. We used the crops for personal consumption and sold some of it to buy feed for the sheep some of the year. But since the outpost was established about 500 meters from our home, the lands we use for grazing and farming have shrunk from hundreds of dunams to 12 dunams [~3 acres]. That is because the settlers do not allow my family past the outpost to reach the grazing land.In the past, we leased some of our land to another resident of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah, who cultivated it. But after the outpost was established, he got too scared and left. The settlers took advantage of the fact that the land was uncultivated, and three years ago, they cut the barbed wire fence, invaded our land and plowed it. My family has roots here going back hundreds of years, and I wasn’t ready to give up. I decided to come back and work the land along with my brothers and cousins, because I feared the settlers would take over my ancestral land. We fixed the barbed wire fence that they destroyed, plowed the land and planted seeds.The first time, after the settlers invaded and plowed our land, more than 50 members of our family came and worked the land. At first, the settlers were afraid to come near us, so we managed to work and plant. But later on, masked settlers started coming to our land and cursing everyone who was working there.On 29 April 2023, the settlers cut the barbed wire fence around our land and uprooted the iron stakes marking its boundaries. We repaired the fence, drove the iron stakes back in and re-marked the boundaries.After 7 October 2023, the settlers started trying even harder to grab our land, especially because the Israeli government gave them a green light to attack Palestinian communities in the West Bank without being held accountable.More than once, settlers have stood in my path and threatened me. They told me that if I stayed in the area, it would soon cost me my life. They said they were losing patience with me and my family, because our land and homes are the closest to their outpost.Once, after the war began, settlers attacked the home of one of my relatives. They broke into his house at night, while he was there with his wife, and threatened to kill him. That same night, another relative’s house was set on fire.About seven months ago, while we were out at a family celebration, the settlers used the opportunity to unleash dogs into a sheep pen we shared with some relatives. The dogs attacked the sheep and killed ten of them.In another incident three months ago, I was working on our land and had a five-year-old boy from our family with me. Two settlers arrived, one of whom I recognized and the other was wearing a mask and army pants and had an M-16 rifle. One of them asked me what we were doing on the land of Eretz Israel. I told him he was trespassing, that this was private land and that he wasn’t allowed to be there. He told me that in war there are no rules. I took out my phone and told the settler that if he didn’t leave, I would call the police. The settler warned me not to walk the sheep near the outpost and said I wasn’t allowed to leave my house at night. He threatened to kill me.Twelve days ago, the settlers cut the barbed wire fence around our land and brought in their flocks of sheep. I called the police, and they came and told the settlers they weren’t allowed to enter any fenced-off land.The settlers repeatedly sabotage the pipes through which the a-Sawahrah municipality supplies us with water. The last time was on Thursday, 16 May 2024. We got up in the morning and found the pipes cut and damaged. Obviously, nothing like this ever happened to us before the outpost was built.The residents of a-Sawahrah a-Sharqiyah used to have hundreds of dunams available for grazing. Now, we all have to share a few dozen dunams because the settlers chase shepherds in the area. Of what’s left, about 12 dunams [~3 acres] belong to my family.With less grazing land, no money to buy feed and fewer crops for the sheep to eat after the settlers cut the fences and brought their sheep into our land, I had to cut my flock down from 150 to 50.
4 September 2024
