On Wednesday, 5 December 2018, in the early morning hours, without notice, the Israeli military closed the iron gate on the old Deir Ibzi’ road (Road 450), also known as al-’Einab Road. The military had installed the gate in the beginning of the second intifada. Road 450 reaches Road 463 and links villages northwest of Ramallah to the city. An IDF Spokesperson release stated that the road had been closed for “security reasons, as part of efforts to address repeated violent robberies and a string of terror incidents at the site.”
The gate remained closed for over a month. The military reopened it on the morning of 14 January 2019. The following day, 15 January, at around 7:30 P.M., the military closed the gate again for several hours. The road closure impacted tens of thousands of people who live in villages northwest of Ramallah. These include, among others, 'Ein ‘Arik, Deir Ibzi’, Kafr Ni’ma, Ras Karkar and al-Janiyah, whose southeastern exit the military closed off with concrete cubes years ago. The blockage also affected thousands of Palestinian laborers who have permits to work in Israel, hundreds of businesspeople who travel to Israel daily via the Ni’lin checkpoint, and the passage of trucks between Israel and the West Bank through the checkpoint. Locals were forced to use an alternate route that runs through Kafr Ni’ma in order to reach Road 463 (Wadi Kafr Ni’ma).
This made travel slower and more difficult, as the road is two kilometers longer, is narrow, treacherous and steep, and has no traffic signs or lighting. Although it is a two-way road, trucks and other large vehicles take up both lanes. Also, the road cannot be used on rainy days as the valley gets flooded. Travel on this road is at least half an hour longer and costs more.
In addition to all this, once or twice a week, the military set up a flying checkpoint at the entry point into this road, usually during the morning rush hour or evening commute.
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The gate closed by the military at the entrance to the Deir Ibzi’ Road. Photo by Iyad Hadad, B’Tselem, 10 December 2018
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The narrow, winding road that runs through Wadi Kafr Ni’ma. Photo by Iyad Hadad, B’Tselem, 10 December 2018
Blatantly overlooking the difficulties created by the road closure, the IDF Spokesperson flatly stated: “The village has other access roads that the residents use.”Residents of the affected villages said the road closure also impacted family and social life. Many family gatherings were postponed and friends and relatives avoided visiting one another as the trip, which normally takes minutes, had been extended to anywhere between half an hour and an hour. Some 25 teachers who work in Ras Karkar and live in neighboring villages were late for work every day during the closure. This forced some classes to be held after regular working hours.
Restricting the movement of Palestinians in the West Bank is one of the main tools that Israel uses to enforce the occupation and control the Palestinian population. Of the many sweeping and arbitrary measures Israel employs, road closures have a particularly broad impact, severely disrupting the lives of many Palestinians. The closure of Road 450 was unlawful and constituted deliberate collective punishment of residents whose only “crime” was living nearby. It deprived thousands of Palestinians of their freedom of movement and constituted abuse of military force.
In testimonies given to B’Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad over the course of December 2018, residents described how the roadblock affected their lives:
On 11 December 2018, ‘Ayed Mazlum, 54, a married father of six from al-Janiyah who is a maintenance worker with the Palestinian Water Authority, related:
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‘Ayed Mazlum. Photo courtesy of the witness
I usually use public transport to get to work in Ramallah every day. I travel through Ras Karkar and on to Deir Ibzi’, 'Ein ‘Arik, Bitunya and finally, Ramallah. It usually takes twenty minutes and costs about six shekels each way.
On Wednesday, 5 December 2018, the Israeli military closed the iron gate on the old Deir Ibzi’ road, which we call al-’Einab Road. Ever since then, we’ve had to take an alternate route through Wadi Kafr Ni’ma. We go from al-Janiyah to Ras Karkar, then to Kafr Ni’ma and from there to Deir Ibzi’, 'Ein ‘Arik, Bitunya and then Ramallah. This road was made for farmers and is very narrow, only about five meters wide. It’s not meant to be used by large, heavy vehicles. There are terrible traffic jams and sometimes accidents, too. Yesterday, at about 3:30 P.M., a truck collided with a car and everyone on the road was held up for more than two hours.
The road is also very dangerous. The shoulders aren’t safe and cars slip on them. When it rains, the valley gets flooded and you have to wait for the water level to go down to get through in a car. There are no road signs and no lighting.
Sometimes the soldiers put up a flying checkpoint on this road, near the military watchtower across from Ras Karkar. That delays traffic even more and disrupts people’s lives. There are no set times and we can’t know when they’ll suddenly put up the checkpoint.
It stays for an hour or two at a time and creates a traffic jam that lasts for hours, even after they take it down. They tend to do it during rush hour, between seven-thirty and eight in the morning, when people are on their way to work, and in the afternoon, when people are on their way home.
I work from eight in the morning until two in the afternoon. I’d hardly ever been late for work before they closed the road. Today, I got a formal reprimand from my manager with a warning about a salary deduction, because ever since the road was closed, I’ve been coming in half an hour or an hour late. This means my pay will be docked 200 to 300 shekels.
The damage isn’t just financial. We suffer from using this road. It’s very stressful because of the way the cars slide and the accidents.
There’s no justification for closing the road. It’s just harassment and collective punishment aimed at disrupting our lives and shaking us up.
On 10 December 2018, Sujud Muhammad, 24, a teacher who lives with her husband in Yabrud and works at the girls’ high school in Ras Karkar, related:
The distance from my village to the school is about 32 kilometers. There is no direct public transportat, so I have to go from Yabrud to Ramallah first, which costs 9.5 shekels and then from Ramallah to Ras Karkar, which costs 6 shekels.
It takes an hour each way even on ordinary days, and I have to get up early to make it to work on time. It’s gotten worse since the road was blocked. It’s a very unpleasant journey and it costs more, too.
Ever since the closure, I’ve been at least half an hour late for work every day. I have to give extra lessons on my own time to make up the material we skipped.
At the end of the work day, at one-forty, I wait fifteen to thirty minutes for the bus to Ramallah. It now takes half an hour to an hour to get there. In Ramallah, I wait for another bus to take me to my village. I get home at about four thirty or five in the evening, when it’s already dark.
By the time I get home, I have no energy left to do anything – to cook or check my students’ notebooks and essays. It’s been very difficult. Only God knows what we’re going through. I’m waiting for the term to end and hope we get through it okay.
On 9 December 2018, A.A., 23, an electrician from al-Janiyah, related:
I recently got a project near the a-Rihan neighborhood, about four kilometers north of Ramallah. Normally, to get there I go through Ras Karkar, Deir Ibzi’, Bitunya, Ramallah and from there to a-Rihan. I pick up laborers from al-Janiyah and Bir Zeit on the way. It takes half an hour at most.
On Wednesday, 5 December 2018, we were surprised to find the iron gate on al-’Einab road, which connects Ras Karkar directly to Deir Ibzi’, closed. We don’t know why they closed it. We have no choice but to go through Kafr Ni’ma and from there to Deir Ibzi’ and on to Bitunya and finally Ramallah and a-Rihan neighborhood. The difference between the two routes is only two or three kilometers, but it’s a narrow, difficult road. There are a lot of traffic jams there, especially during rush hour when people are on their way to work and back.
Driving on that section of Wadi Kafr Ni’ma takes at least thirty to forty-five minutes. If there is a traffic jam and big trucks go through, the delay can last hours. The road is also unsafe. There have been lots of accidents there.
Because of all these delays, a job I usually finish in a day now takes a day and a half or two. That makes it hard to meet schedules and causes losses. I’d say I’m losing about 300 shekels day. The laborers working with me are also losing money.
This situation is affecting me mentally. I’m constantly stressed, and it carries over into my relationships at work and with my family. I can’t focus and I’m tense all the time.
I worry about coming across a truck on the Wadi Kafr Ni’ma road, because it could mean a delay of hours. This road closure is causing us a lot of grief.
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The school at Ras Karkar. Photo by Iyad Hadad, B’Tselem, 10 December 2018
On 10 December 2018, Arij As’id, 42, a married mother of four from Ramallah who is a school principal in Ras Karkar, said:
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Arij As’id. Photo by Iyad Hadad, B’Tselem, 10 December 2018
I live in the al-Masyun neighborhood of Ramallah and I’m the principal of the school at Ras Karkar, which has 98 male students and 367 female students. The school has a staff of 28 teachers and office workers. Twelve of the teachers come from Ramallah or other places outside Ras Karkar.
On Wednesday, 5 December 2018, on my way to school on public transport with my youngest daughter, Talin, 7, who attends my school, I was surprised to see al-’Einab road closed off with the iron gate. The driver had to turn around and go through Kafr Ni’ma and from there to Ras Karkar. That takes half an hour to an hour instead of ten to fifteen minutes.
It’s a dangerous way, too. It doesn’t meet minimum safety standards.Sometimes, the driver decides to charge more - for instance, if there’s a particularly long delay on the way. The closure has disrupted our daily lives. Most of the teachers who live outside the village are held up and arrive late. Sometimes by fifteen minutes, sometimes by an hour. It disrupts the students’ daily schedule and they miss some of the curriculum. On top of that, we all have to wake up earlier so as not to be late, which affects our children. Ever since the road was blocked, my daughter Talin has been getting up at 5:30 A.M. every day - an hour earlier than usual - to make it to school on time. We still get there fifteen to thirty minutes late.
For over 15 months, Israel has been waging an all-out war on the entire Palestinian people. Ever since Israel and Hamas announced a temporary ceasefire in the Gaza Strip and a hostage and prisoner release deal three days ago, on 19 January 2024, Israel has intensified its violence against Palestinians in the West Bank.Far from holding its fire against Palestinians, Israel’s actions demonstrate it has no intention of doing so. Instead, it is merely shifting its focus from Gaza to other areas it controls in the West Bank.The ink had barely dried on the ceasefire agreement before the Israeli army blocked most access points to and from Palestinian villages, and all the cities in the West Bank, severely disrupting the daily lives of more than three million Palestinians: Students could not reach schools and universities, patients could not access medical treatments, and ordinary civilians could not get to their workplaces.A series of military raids in Sabastiya, ‘Azzun, Jenin, Beit Furik and Hebron, among others, have already claimed the lives of eight Palestinians, including at least one minor. Dozens were injured and scores were taken into custody in mass arrests.In the past two nights, a wave of settler violence has swept through the West Bank. As soldiers looked on, Israelis attacked Palestinian communities, trying to set fire to homes with occupants inside, torching cars and vandalizing property on a massive scale, in Turmusaya, al-Funduq, Sinjil, Al-Mughayyir and Jinsafut among other places. The attackers themselves have declared these pogroms were an act of revenge for the release of Palestinian prisoners as part of the deal. Settlers have also blocked major intersections across the West Bank, pelting passing Palestinian vehicles with stones.Adding the military activity of the Israeli army in the West Bank to the war’s official objectives just two days before the Gaza ceasefire agreement took effect, speaks volumes about the Israeli government’s true intentions. Forced to stop the fighting in Gaza by the Americans and Saudis, the Israeli government is using this pause as an excuse and opportunity to ratchet up the oppression of West Bank Palestinians.This is not what a ceasefire looks like.
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.
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, ‘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.One of these outposts is Meged Ha’aretz, which was founded in 2018 in the Tulkarm district, west of the settlement of Avnei Hefetz, northwest of the village of Shufah—which, with the establishment of Avnei Hefetz, had already lost a significant portion of its land —and east of the village of Kafa. About ten residential buildings, agricultural structures, greenhouses, and a pen for around 200 sheep have been built, and plots have been prepared for growing organic agricultural produce sold at the outpost. Various workshops are also held there. Since the establishment of the outpost, there has been a significant increase in the harassment of farmers whose agricultural plots are located a few hundred meters from the outpost and the settlement fence. Settlers have harassed farmers working on their lands, provoked them, and deliberately created friction. Hundreds of olive trees have been vandalized, and agricultural structures, water tanks, and property were damaged. Equipment and livestock have been stolen, graffiti sprayed and greenhouses set on fire. Another tactic settlers from the outpost used to intimidate and take control of the land has been firing shots into the air to frighten Palestinian shepherds and prevent them from grazing their sheep and cattle in the area. As a result of settler violence and restricted access to grazing areas, some farmers were forced to sell their herds, as the cost of feeding livestock with purchased fodder was unaffordable.Since 7 October 2023, army-supported settler harassment has intensified, and farmers from the villages of Shufah and Kafa have been practically barred from working their lands and grazing their livestock. They were unable to pick their olives during the 2023 harvest. During the plowing season in March and April 2024, Palestinian landowners contacted the Israeli DCO to coordinate their entry into the area. Nevertheless, when they arrived at their plots, settlers and soldiers prevented them from working their land. The soldiers fired in the air, detained the farmers, took them to a military base in the settlement of Avnei Hefetz, and held them there for several hours before releasing them without any charges or allegations.It is important to emphasize that while Palestinians’ access to their own lands has been restricted, the military allows settlers to move free and do as they please in the area. The settlers destroyed an agricultural structure after vandalizing it several times, among other harm they have caused.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.It is important to emphasize that while Palestinians’ access to their own lands has been restricted, the military allows settlers to move free and do as they please in the area. The settlers destroyed an agricultural structure after vandalizing it several times, among other harm they have caused.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.Testimonies collected by B’Tselem from several residents of the villages of Shufah and Kafa illustrate the detrimental impact the outpost has on farmers’ access to their lands, as well as the mistreatment they face from settlers and soldiers.B’Tselem field researcher Abdulkarim Sadi collected the following testimonies.Tahsin Hamed (72), a father of six and resident of Shufah, gave his testimony to B’Tselem on 12 May 2024:My brothers—Jamal, Mu’in, Ahmad and Ibrahim—and I inherited 500 dunams of land about 400-500 meters from the security fence of the settlement of Avnei Hefetz, which was built on land that belongs to people from our village. We personally own an olive grove and grow seasonal crops as well.In 2018, a settler took over a hill in the area of Manzalet Bir-Salem, located about 700-800 meters northwest of the settlement of Avnei Hefetz. He moved there with his family and set up tents and sheep pens. I think he has around 200 sheep.That’s when our problems began. The settler started grazing his sheep in our olive grove, and they ate the branches of the olive trees and the seasonal crops we used to plant every year. Together with other settlers, he also damaged young olive trees we planted and the branches of mature trees. Since he set up his outpost, hundreds of our olive trees and olive seedlings have been destroyed. We planted new seedlings several times, but the settlers destroyed them again and again.Also, whenever my family and I go to our land to work, the settler calls the soldiers in the area, who come and order us to leave under false pretexts, claiming we are trespassing on the land the settler stole, even though we don’t leave our own plot. Instead of protecting us, the soldiers drive us out. They help the settler take over our land, too.We used to have a small agricultural structure made of stone and cinder blocks with a tin roof on our plot. It was built decades ago and was a place to rest and store tools. There was also a small chicken coop nearby, where I kept six hens whose eggs I ate on days I was working.The settlers have damaged the structure several times. They vandalized the water container we use for drinking, cooking and watering the plants around the structure, and broke the wooden door. The last time this happened was about a month ago, during Ramadan. Since the war in Gaza began, the Israeli army has banned me and my brothers from entering our land under security pretexts. Each time we’ve tried to go, soldiers have told us we’re forbidden from being there and expelled us. The settlers have taken advantage of this and have completely destroyed the structure and damaged everything inside it. Even during the last olive harvest, in October and November 2023, the army stopped us all from picking our olives. They drove us away every time we tried to reach our groves. As a result, the entire crop—which would make about 300 jars of olive oil—went to waste. In previous years, we sold most of the crop and kept a small portion for personal use.Last Ramadan, which started at the end of March and ended in April, the Palestinian DCO informed us that the Israeli DCO had designated three days for us to access our land to plow and treat the weeds. My brothers, our sons and I—13 people from our family altogether—arrived early in the morning on the first designated day with donkeys, pesticide and other agricultural equipment. Just 10 minutes later, Israeli soldiers stationed in the Avnei Hefetz settlement arrived and fired live shots in the air. Then guards from the settlement, other settlers and more soldiers arrived. They handcuffed us all and covered our eyes with black garbage bags.A military vehicle arrived. They loaded us onto it and took us to a military camp within Avnei Hefetz. They confiscated our ID cards and phones and held us there without any interrogation or questioning. They only swore at us. I tried to explain to the soldiers that we went to our land after coordinating with the Israeli DCO, and that we were authorized to work there for three days, but no one would listen.They kept us there with our hands tied and eyes covered for eight hours—from 7:30 A.M. to 3:30 P.M.—and then took us to the Einav checkpoint, where they released us. We took the plastic bags off our eyes and took of the remaining zip ties, and found all the belongings they took from us lying on a concrete block at the checkpoint.We got home exhausted and felt we’d been wronged. The settlers and soldiers want to drive us off our land and take control of it.On 8 December 2019, Hamed told B’Tselem how settlers harassed him and his brother on their land:This afternoon I was on the 12 plot of land that belongs to me and my brothers, west of the outpost near the Avnei Hefetz settlement. My brother Ibrahim was plowing his plot, which is next to mine. I was about to join him when suddenly, I heard shouting in Hebrew coming from his plot. I realized settlers were harassing my brother and quickly went there. It’s about 200 meters away. When I got there, I saw a settler holding the donkey’s bridle to prevent my brother from plowing. The settler was shouting and demanding that my brother leave the area. I took the bridle from the settler and yelled at him. I asked why he was doing this. The settler said the land belongs to Jews. I replied that this land has belonged to our family for hundreds of years. I managed to get the settler away from the donkey.He called for another settler to come, and we got into a fight over ownership of the land. The settler kept provoking me and telling me to hit him, but I held back so he wouldn’t have an excuse to call more settlers and soldiers, who could force us to leave. This went on for about two hours. In the end, the two settlers left after they didn’t manage to provoke us into reacting. My brother Ibrahim then continued to plow his land.This is our land, which we inherited from our grandparents, and we will continue to work it. We will plow the land, take care of it and protect it from the settlers’ herds. It’s clear to me that the settlers’ acts of provocation and aggression are just the beginning. They want to drive us off the land so they can take control of it.A.I. (21), a resident of Kafa, gave his testimony to B’Tselem on 20 July 2024:My family and I make our living from farming. We own farland and greenhouses east of Kafa, in an area called al-Maruj a-Sharqiya [1] (“the eastern fields”. There, we have greenhouses that cover 3 dunams, where we grow cucumbers, tomatoes and other vegetables.A few years ago, a settler set up a farm on a hill called al-Masyad and took over the land I mentioned, which belongs to my grandfather, and covers almost 9 dunams. Since then, accessing our land has become risky, because the settler and his friends provoke and threaten us.For example, one night in the spring of 2018, a group of settlers set fire to our greenhouses. That same year, they attacked me and my brother Haitham with sticks and branches while we were inside our greenhouse. There were more than 15 of them, most under the age of 18, but they were accompanied by the settler who built the farm. My brother and I managed to escape, but they uprooted tomato seedlings we planted.In 2021, they tried to set the greenhouses on fire several times, always at night. Thanks to our vigilance, we put out the fire each time before it spread to all the greenhouses.In March 2024, while I was installing wooden boards on the roofs of the greenhouses, a group of about 12 settlers arrived, some of them carrying sticks and others guns. They forced me to come down from the roof, threatened me and then drove me out of the land. I had to leave to avoid being attacked.I’m currently preparing the land for planting. Most days, on our way to the greenhouses, there are shots in the air above us coming from the direction of the farm. They try to scare us off coming to our land, growing things on it and benefiting from it.The soldiers guarding the outpost help the settlers. They detain us, check our ID cards and phones, and look to see whether we’ve photographed the outpost or the settlers, trying to deter us from coming. Their goal is to drive us owners away so the settlers can take over the land.U.I. (25), a resident of Kafa, gave his testimony to B’Tselem on 20 July 2024:I’ve been working in agriculture since 2017. I have greenhouses on 3 dunams and another 2 dunams of field crops and vegetables. These plots are east of Kafa, in an area called al-Maruj a-Sharqiya, about 700-800 meters from the outpost. Ever since a settler built an outpost west of the Avnei Hefetz settlement, we’ve been facing problems, and accessing my land has become dangerous. After 7 October 2023, the harassment increased, especially from late December 2023 to late February 2024. Whenever we tried to reach the land, the soldiers guarding the outpost would block us. We had to sneak in to work the land. One morning, I arrived at the greenhouses to plant tomato seedlings. I saw about 20 settlers on my land, and soldiers who were with them wouldn’t let me pass. I waited until noon, and when I finally reached the greenhouses, I found they’d slashed the plastic coverings with knives and stones. They also damaged the tomato seedlings—4,600 seedlings I bought from a nursery the day before. Besides that, the settlers from the outpost shoot over our heads when we’re on the land and in the greenhouses to scare us. The last time was just a few days ago, on 16 July 2024—the bullet came within a few centimeters of my head, and I was lucky not to be hit. They do all of this to force us to abandon our land so they can take control of it more easily. W.A. (36), a father of three and resident of Kafa, gave his testimony to B’Tselem on 20 July 2024:I’m a farmer. My family and I have farmland east of Kafa, in an area called al-Aqayib a-Sharqiya. In June 2017, across from our land, in the area of al-Akran, an outpost was built. It lies west of the Avnei Hefetz settlement. Until 2018, we also raised cattle and sheep. We had 50 cows and 70 sheep, and would graze them on 100 dunams of pastureland that served the village for decades. But then a settler built that outpost, which is basically a farm; he set up trailers, built sheep pens, and barred my family from grazing our cattle there. On several occasions, he fired shots into the air above our heads and our herds to scare us. We were afraid he might kill the livestock or even us, and we realized there was no one to protect us or hold him accountable. We had to stop grazing and, since we can’t afford feed, we had no choice but to sell our herd at the end of 2018, a year after the settler arrived.In 2021, while we were planting black-eyed pea seedlings in our field, a group of settlers showed up. That original settler drew an imaginary line with his hand and said we and other farmers were not allowed to cross it, threatening that anyone who did would be risking their life. The line he drew was more than 700 meters from his outpost. He also often flies a drone over us when we work our land.We live in constant tension and fear because of his violent behavior—the shots in the air, the drone and the threats. We’re very worried he might harm us and are concerned about our livelihood and future.
