On Saturday, 11 October 2025, at around 7:00 A.M., farmers from the village of Burqah went out to their agricultural lands east of the village, about 300 meters from Route 60 and about 300 meters from the village’s homes.
At around 9:00 A.M., the farmers noticed two vehicles approaching them from the direction of the Sde Yonatan outpost.
After about five minutes, the vehicles reached A.M., a Burqah resident, and his family, who were harvesting their olive trees. Six settlers got out of the vehicles, two of them armed with rifles. The settlers informed A.M. and his family that this was “Israeli land” and that they were forbidden to be there, threatening to harm them if they did not leave. A.M. tried to collect the olives he had managed to harvest so far, but the settlers did not allow him to do so. One of them pushed his 80-year-old father to the ground, and then punched A.M. in the shoulder. The settlers then expelled the family from the area.
A.M. and his family drove toward the village, stopping at a spot from where they watched the settlers load their olive harvest and agricultural equipment onto their vehicles at a distance. At around 9:30 A.M., a military vehicle drove up to the family, and a soldier who got out told A.M. that he was forbidden from being on his land and threatened that if he returned, he would be arrested.
Meanwhile, M.T., another farmer from the village, was also harvesting his olives in the same area. The military vehicle approached him as well, and two soldiers got out and informed M.T. that he was forbidden from being there.
In the meantime, the settlers’ two vehicles also drove to M.T.’s land. One of the settlers took the key to M.T.’s unlicensed vehicle and handed it to the soldiers. A soldier then loaded M.T.’s olive harvest onto one of the settlers’ vehicles, and the settlers left. The soldiers stole two of M.T.’s ladders, which he used for harvesting, loaded them onto the military vehicle and onto his own car, and then left the area with both vehicles.
B’Tselem field researcher Muhammad Rumaneh collected testimonies from some of the residents:
A.M., a resident of Burqah, recounted:
My land is located roughly two kilometers from the herding outpost that settlers established about five years ago.
We used to go to the land without needing any coordination or prior approval. During the 2023 harvest, I went there with my family and picked the olives without any problems. Last year as well, I managed to reach my land and harvest the olives without any issues or confrontations with the settlers.
On Saturday, 11 October 2025, at around 7:00 A.M., my wife, our six children and I left our home in the western part of the village and drove toward our land together with my father (80), my brother, his wife, and their three children. I was driving an unregistered vehicle, so I left it at the entrance to the village to avoid it being confiscated in case the army arrived at the grove, and we continued on foot.
We reached our land at around 7:30 A.M. and immediately began spreading out the mats we use to collect the olives. After that, we drank coffee and all began working, except for my elderly father, whom I asked to sit and keep watch on the outpost because I worried settlers would come and attack us on our land. I expected this might happen because about ten days before the incident, I saw a settler grazing a flock of sheep on my land.
We worked quietly for about two hours during which we didn’t see any settlers in the area. At around 9:00 A.M., my father told me he saw two vehicles leaving the outpost across from our land and heading toward the village.
The kids and the women quickly moved to a safer area south of our land because we were scared the settlers would come and attack us. I also sent a message to a private group of village residents, telling them that settlers were approaching my land.
Five minutes later – maybe even less – two white Toyota vehicles with Israeli license plates arrived and stopped about 10-15 meters away from us on a dirt road that borders my land on its eastern side. Six settlers wearing civilian clothing got out of the vehicles. Two of them were armed with rifles, and I recognized one of them. As soon as they arrived, my brother and I started gathering the olives we had picked and putting them into sacks. My father collected the ladder we’d been using, and we got ready to leave in order to avoid a confrontation with the settlers.
The settler we recognized ordered us to leave the olives on the ground and threatened to kill us if we continued collecting them. Then he approached my father, pushed him, and knocked him to the ground. After that, he punched me in the shoulder and said to me in Arabic, “This is the Land of Israel. You have no right to access this land.” I told him this was my ancestral land and that I wanted to take the olives I had already picked. The settler replied, “This is not your land. Your land is inside the village.” They also forced my father to leave the ladder behind.
I was forced to leave my land. We drove north and stopped at a spot that overlooks my plot. From there, I saw the settlers loading the sacks of olives onto their cars. I also saw them steal the ladder my father had carried earlier and the mats we had spread beneath the olive trees at the start of the harvest. I was helpless and could do nothing to stop the settlers from stealing my olives or my equipment.
M.T., a resident of Burqah, recounted:
At around 9:30 A.M., an Israeli military vehicle arrived and stopped about 10-15 meters east of us. Two soldiers got out and one of them yelled at me, so I approached him. He spoke to me in Hebrew. I told him I didn’t understand Hebrew and asked him to speak Arabic. The soldier went back to the vehicle and brought the driver, who spoke fluent Arabic. He asked why I was there, and I told him I was harvesting olives from my land. He asked if I knew it was forbidden for me to be there, and I replied that this was the first time I had heard such a thing, and that I normally come without any coordination or permit.
While we were talking, two white Toyota vehicles arrived. One stopped next to the military vehicle, and the second continued a bit further and stopped near my car, which was about 25-30 meters away. I saw an armed settler get out of the Toyota and walk around my car, then return and drive toward the soldiers. Afterwards he came up to me and ordered me to give him the key to my car, an unregistered vehicle used for agricultural roads. I had no choice but to give it to him, and he handed it to the soldiers. We, the residents of Burqah, know this settler. In his car I saw another settler, and I think the second white vehicle had 3-4 settlers in it, at least one of whom was armed.
After the settler took my key, the soldiers demanded that I gather my belongings and leave the area. I asked for the key so I could take my things out of the car, but the soldiers refused, so I began collecting my equipment and the olives we had picked. One of the soldiers ordered me to leave the sack of olives where it was, and the settler’s vehicle approached. The soldier picked up the sack and put it into the settler’s Toyota, which then drove southeast, toward the outpost.
The soldiers remained after the settlers left. Two of them went over to my unlicensed vehicle. One ordered me to take out my belongings – food and equipment. Another soldier took a long ladder that we had been using for the harvest and hung it on the military vehicle; then he took another, shorter ladder of mine, put it inside my car, got in, started the engine, and the soldiers drove off with both the military vehicle and my car.
My land yields 20 to 25 jerrycans of olive oil per year, but because of the increasing harassment and restrictions, it’s become difficult, and sometimes impossible, to harvest in the area. My family and I jointly own another 18 dunams [~4.5 acres] to the east, ten [~2.5 acres] of which are olive groves and the rest are used for grain and grazing. But now we cannot access them, especially given the protection the soldiers provide to the settlers, who sometimes even override the army’s own authority.