Settler Violence = State Violence

Settlers destroy 2,000+ Palestinian-owned trees and vines, backed by Israeli authorities

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גפן כרותה בכרם של ניזאם מועטאן בבורקה. צילום: אידא חדאד, 26.6.18

In just over two months, from the beginning of May to 7 July 2018, B’Tselem documented 10 instances in which settlers destroyed a total of more than 2,000 trees and grapevines and burned down a barley field and bales of hay. In some places, the settlers left behind them graffiti slogans in Hebrew, reading “No to farmer terrorism” and “"There's not place we won't reach". Some of the farmers had already suffered settler violence in recent years. 

While this high incidence of the assaults is unusual, the phenomenon itself has long since become routine in the West Bank. Settler violence and vandalism takes place with full backing by the Israeli authorities. Sometimes soldiers take part in the assault; at other times, they stand idly by. The police makes no substantial effort to investigate the incidents, nor takes measures to prevent them or stop them in real time. 

Israel benefits from the repercussions, as settler violence has gradually dispossessed Palestinians of more and more areas in the West Bank, paving the way for a state takeover of land and resources. This occurs because Palestinians avoid entering areas in which they have been attacked, usually close to settlements. As a result, extensive Palestinian farmland near settlements has been vandalized and neglected to such an extent that it yields poor crops, making it not worthwhile for the owners to risk their safety to get there. This process has essentially erected invisible walls throughout the West Bank, which Palestinians know crossing will expose them to violence and even danger to their lives. 
 

 

 

Some of the testimonies given to B’Tselem field researchers from the landowners whose property was vandalized follow. 

 Hebron area 

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Vines whose trunks were sawed off in the Abu Rajab brothers’ vineyard in the South Hebron Hills. Photo by Muhammad Abu Rajab, 27

South Hebron Hills, 26 May 2018, approx. 700 grapevines cut down: 

Muhammad Abu Rajab, 63, a resident of Hebron, is married and has three children. Along with his three siblings, he owns two vineyards with a total of about 700 grapevines in the area of al-Ballutah, south of the town of Yatta. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhash on 27 May 2018, he related how he discovered the vines had been cut down: 

We jointly own about 700 grapevines in two vineyards that we planted some seven years ago. Last year they yielded seven tons of grapes, which earned us about 100,000 shekels (USD 27,224) altogether. This year we were supposed to harvest double that. My brothers and I tended the land and cultivated it over the years. We plowed it and planted the vines. We were very happy. We go to the vineyards almost every day to tend to the vines, and that’s how we make a living. 

On Thursday, 24 May 2018, I sprayed the vines and everything was normal. The next day I didn’t go because of Ramadan Friday prayers. On Saturday, the neighbors called me and said something looked off about the vines, and that they thought something had happened to them. I went to the land and was shocked at the sight. All the vines in both vineyards had been chopped down. I couldn’t believe my eyes. I thought, who could have done such a thing to the vines, which never harmed a soul? In a shed between the two vineyards, where we rest sometimes, I saw Hebrew graffiti sprayed on the floor. Later, someone told me they said “No to farmer terrorism” and “We’ll get you everywhere”. From the state of the vines, it looked like they’d been cut down with a power saw. Sawing off 700 vines takes a lot of time, and it’s an area where police cars and army patrols pass by once in a while. I guess the settlers weren’t afraid of them at all. 

After I came to my senses, I called my brothers and told them what had happened. They immediately called the Palestinian DCO and came to the land. The DCO called the Israel Police, and police officers and forensic experts arrived. They took my testimony and I noticed that they found a mobile phone. Maybe it belonged to one of the offenders.  

The losses we incurred from the damage to the vines can’t be measured in numbers. We invested seven years of work in those vineyards. Every grapevine cost us hundreds of shekels, in my estimation, by the time it grew and bore fruit. It’s also impossible to quantify the hours we put in and how tiring the work was. We cared for those vines like we care for our own children, and it all went down the drain in one moment. Now we’ll have to uproot the remaining trunks, which will be very costly, and plant new seedlings – although we have no guarantee they’ll be safe now. 

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‘Issa Idris next to a severed vine in his vineyard in Hebron. Photo by Manal al-Ja'bri, B’Tselem, 18 June 2018

Hebron, 25 June 2018, 82 grapevines cut down: 

‘Issa Idris, 60, a resident of the Jaber neighborhood in Hebron, is married and has seven children. The family owns a third of a hectare in the area of Khalet a-Natsheh, which Idris cultivates with his brothers and sisters. The settlement of Qiryat Arba was established north of the plot. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhash on 28 June 2018, Idris described the damage incurred by the destruction of 82 grapevines on the family land: 

I’ve been growing grapes with my brothers and sisters on our family land for 35 years. Last Monday, 25 June 2018, my cousin called me and told me the vines in our vineyard had been cut down. I couldn’t go there immediately because I was at work. My siblings were also at work and couldn’t make it. I got to the land only around seven in the evening. I counted 82 vines that had been chopped down. From the look of them, they were cut with a power saw. The vineyard is about twenty meters off Route 60, where soldiers patrol all the time. There are also cameras nearby belonging to Qiryat Arba, and they cover the area of the vineyard. 

We lost our entire crop for the year. That’s tens of thousands of shekels lost. But it’s more than that – it’s years upon years of tending the trees and caring for them down the drain. Now we’ll have to invest money in uprooting the trunks, preparing the soil and replanting the vines. But I don’t know, maybe we won’t replant because the police and army offer no protection. They can do this to us again. In 2010, settlers damaged dozens of trees on another of our plots. We filed a complaint but no one did anything about it. This time I didn’t file a complaint, because I don’t think there’s any point. 

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Severed vines in Haitham Jahshan’s vineyard in Halhul. Photo by Musa Abu Hashhash, B’Tselem, 16 May 2018

Halhul, May 2018, approx. 880 grapevines cut down: 

Throughout the month of May, some 880 grapevines were cut down in five different plots in the area of Halhul. The testimonies of two of the landowners follow: 

Halhul, 16 May 2018, 400 vines cut down: 

Haitham Jahshan, 42, is a resident of Halhul and a married father of four. He and his uncles own a 2.9-hectare plot by Route 60. There is a military watchtower directly overlooking the plot. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhash on 16 May 2018, Jahshan related: 

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Haitham Jahshan. Photo by Musa Abu Hashhash, B’Tselem, 16 May 2018

Most of the trees on our land were planted more than fifteen years ago. This morning at six o’clock, my uncles and I went there to continue spraying the soil, which we began yesterday. When we got there, we were shocked to see all the grapevines destroyed in four vineyards, which cover half a hectare. There were almost 400 fruit-bearing vines there. From what I could see, they were sawed off with a power saw at about 40-50 centimeters above ground. You can’t begin to comprehend what a disaster it is. They didn’t leave a single vine standing in all four vineyards. On one rock we found a slogan in Hebrew that said “We’ll reach every spot”. That’s how we understood that settlers were behind this. 

There’s a military watchtower opposite the plot, manned by soldiers. I guess the settlers weren’t afraid of them. There are also military security cameras nearby, and they may have captured what happened. 

We went to the Palestinian DCO, and they notified the Israel Police. Israeli police officers came the next morning at nine and took photos of the chopped vines, and then I went and filed a complaint at the Qiryat Arba police station. 

We lost more than 50,000 shekels (USD 13,600), but it’s about more than money. We’re deeply attached to those vines. We grew and tended them with joy and happiness for years until they bore fruit. 

 

Halhul, 22 May 2018, 180 grapevines cut down: 

Maher Karajah, 49, is a resident of Halhul and married father of five. He owns a quarter of a hectare on which he grew 180 grapevines. On 22 May 2018, at 8:00 A.M., he arrived at the vineyard as usual and found it entirely destroyed. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhash on 24 May 2018, he detailed the repercussions: 

I lost the season’s entire crop of grapes and vine leaves. I still can’t fully grasp the extent of this sudden blow. I’m in shock. I spent my youth in this vineyard. It’s part of my life and my family’s life. We cared for those vines as though they were our children. My father left me this land. 

Now I have to uproot the vines, clean up the land and plant new ones. It will cost a lot of money and take a lot of work. I’ll have to bring in a bulldozer to remove all the trunks and trellises that were holding up the vines. It will take at least five or six years for the new vines to bear fruit, and they’ll yield a smaller crop than the ones we had. But I have no choice. It was my main source of income. To be honest, I feel like I lost one of my children, and I’m not exaggerating. 

 

 Bethlehem Area 

Al-Khader, early July 2018, 168 grapevines cut down: 

Hassan ‘Issa, 70, is a married father of eight who lives in the village of al-Khader. He owns almost half a hectare (0.45) off Route 60. The settlement of Elazar was established opposite his plot. On 7 July 2018, after not working the land for several days, he discovered that 168 of his 250 grapevines had been cut down. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhash on 9 July 2018, ‘Issa described what happened: 

During the month of Ramadan I worked the land every day, weeding, plowing, spraying and checking the grapevines. I’m in love with the earth and with my trees, and care for them the way I care for myself and for my children. Last Saturday afternoon I was next to a mosque close to my house when Abu Jbarah, who owns land next to mine, came up to me. He said he’d seen that my vines had been cut down. I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I ran home and asked my son ‘Omar to drive me to the land in his car. When I got there, I saw the leaves all dry and collapsed. I sat down on the ground and burst out crying like a little boy. My son walked among the vines checking them, and then he drove me home because I couldn’t stand the sight. 

When we got there, the DCO called ‘Omar and told us to go back to the land because people from the Civil Administration and police officers were about to arrive. I guess Abu Jbarah, who told me the vines had been cut down, let the DCO know, too. We went back and saw that the police had already started examining the trees and taking photos of them. They told me to go to the police station in the settlement of Betar Illit and file a complaint. The next day, Sunday, I went there. The officers had counted the vines that were cut and told me there were 168 of them. I’ve heard of similar incidents in our area. 
Despite what happened, I’ll continue working the land. I’ll remove the severed trunks and plant new vines. That means I’ll have to wait several years until they bear fruit – if the settlers don’t destroy them too. It’s hard to protect my land because it’s far from my house. The army, the police and the Civil Administration are the ones that should be protecting it. My vineyard is right by Route 60, where there are frequent patrols. What happened to my vines feels like a terrible injustice, and I feel incredibly frustrated and deeply sad. 

 

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Destroyed vines in Islam Jaber’s vineyard in al-Khader. Photo by Musa Abu Hashhash, B’Tselem 5 July 2018

Al-Khader, 5 July 2018, 170 grapevines cut down: 

Islam Jaber, 70, is a married father of four who lives in the village of al-Khader and works part-time at a computer store. He also owns 0.8 of a hectare off Route 60 near which the settlement of Neve Daniel was established. Jaber planted about 800 grapevines, olive trees and fig trees on his land. This is what he related in a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Musa Abu Hashhash on 9 July 2018: 

In 2010, we invested about 200,000 shekels (USD 54,407) in our land to enhance the soil, and then we planted grapevines. Three years later they bore fruit and since then, every season they yielded seven to eight tons of grapes. We made an average of about 30,000 shekels (USD 8,161) a year. We cultivated the trees and the land – plowing, pruning and fertilizing – until they became our family’s main source of income. In the last few days we worked all day in the vineyard, preparing for the coming harvest. My mother picked vine leaves to sell almost every day. The last time I was at the vineyard was 1 July 2018. I felt delighted when I saw the clusters of grapes on the vines. 

On 5 July, at about 5:30 in the morning, my mother went to pick leaves and noticed that some of the vines looked wilted. She checked closely and discovered they’d been cut. She called me at 6:00 and I came immediately. I was shocked when I saw what had been done to the vines. They were chopped off at the bottom and the leaves were wilted. It was very painful to see the clusters of grapes all dry. I called the Israel Police, the Civil Administration and the Palestinian DCO. About half an hour later, police, soldiers and Civil Administration people arrived. The police took photos and counted 170 chopped vines. They also found slogans on the cover of the well and on a plastic board reading “No to farmer terrorism” and “Revenge”. They collected tissue paper that was lying on the ground and took photos of shoe prints. They asked me to come give my testimony at the Betar Illit police station, and I did. 

 

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A severed olive sapling in Rabah Hazmah’s orchard in Turmusaya. Photo by Iyad Hadad, B’Tselem, 10 June 2018

 The Ramallah area 

Turmusaya, 9 June 2018, some 130 olive trees broken: 

Rabah Hazmah, 21, is married and lives in the village of Turmusaya, near Ramallah. He owns about one and a half hectares east of the village. The settlement of Adei Ad was established about half a kilometer south of there. In 2014 and 2015, settlers vandalized hundreds of Hazmah’s trees in several incidents. Today, there are more than 300 olive trees in his grove. On 9 June 2018, settlers broke the branches on approximately 100 of his trees, and on some 30 other trees in nearby groves. Hazmah described what happened in a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad on 10 June 2018: 

Yesterday – Saturday, 9 June – I went to my land. A relative of mine, ‘Azmi al-‘Araj, also came in his car. About 200 meters away we saw a group of about ten settlers breaking the olive trees. They were wearing black and white clothes and some had a yarmulka (kippa). We couldn’t see their faces from afar. We immediately stopped the cars and started walking towards them and shouting, in the hope that they would see us and run off. Instead, they ran towards us with stones. We ran back to the cars. 

I immediately called Husam, who works at the Israeli DCO. He gave me his number after the last time I was attacked, in May 2015. Husam told me he’d come himself, and that he’d also notify the police. Then I called people from the village to come help me. The settlers kept on breaking branches and took no notice of us. Every now and then we tried to come close but they ran towards us, we fled, they went back to breaking the trees, and so on. They destroyed the trees with no compassion and no mercy. I felt like they were breaking my ribs. 
About twenty minutes later, Husam arrived with some soldiers and police officers. Only then did the settlers stop and move away, but they stayed on my land. Husam, the soldiers and the police officers saw them but did nothing to them and didn’t even go up to them. 

It was only after they arrived that I dared to go over to the trees to see what happened. At that stage, some people from the village also arrived. The soldiers and police officers were with me. I saw that about 100 of my trees had been broken, and about 30 trees in neighboring plots. The police officers took photos of the trees and one of them took my testimony. They told me to file a complaint at the Binyamin Region police station. 

This isn’t the first time settlers have attacked our trees and land. It’s happened dozens of times and the villagers have filed dozens of complaints with the police, but there has never been a serious investigation and no settler has ever been arrested or punished. We also never received compensation. I can’t estimate the financial damage yet. Some trees die after their branches are snapped off, but sometimes they can be saved. 

 

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A cut vine in Nizam Ma’tan’s vineyard in Burqa. Photo by Iyad Hadad, 26 June 2018

Burqa, 25 June 2018, 48 grapevines and trees cut down

Nizam Ma’tan, 45, is a married father of seven and lives in the village of Burqa. He owns a third of a hectare about a kilometer from his house, and planted grapevines, olive trees and almond trees on the land. Over the years, Mu’tan has suffered many attacks by settlers. Most recently, in April , settlers assaulted him and his son and killed one of his sheep. 

On 25 June 2018, Ma’tan discovered that settlers had chopped down 48 of his trees: 30 grapevines, 11 fig trees and seven almond trees. They also sprayed graffiti reading “No to farmer terrorism” and “We’ll reach every spot”. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad on 26 June 2018, he related: 

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Nizam Ma’tan. Photo by Iyad Hadad, 26 June 2018

I don’t feel like going to my land anymore. I’m frustrated and filled with despair from filing so many complaints with the police. The complaints go nowhere. They either chop down trees or burn cars or attack us or kill our sheep. They are free to attack and kill without paying a price. I don’t believe they will let us be and I don’t believe they’ll be punished. 

Every one of the trees they cut down was like one of my children. I cared for them, watered them, plowed the land, pruned the branches, fertilized the earth, removed weeds, and they slowly grew – just like my sons Muhammad and ‘Omar. Suddenly, I lost them. I have no words to describe how awful it feels. You can only understand if you’ve been through it yourself. 

It’s especially hard because this isn’t the first time. This has been going on for years. Every time I manage to plant trees instead of the ones they destroyed, and the trees grow, they come and destroy everything again. There is no one to help and protect us. We’ve done everything we can to prevent it except resort to violence. I’m not a violent man and all I want is to make sure my children have a safe and peaceful future. 

 

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Muhammad Ka’abneh’s barely field in Deir Jarir in flames. Photo by ‘Eid ‘Ajaj, 27 June 2018

Deir Jarir, 27 June 2018, barley field burned down: 

On Wednesday, 27 June 2018, settlers torched a 10-hectare barley field in the area of Deir Jarir. The field was cultivated by Muhammad Ka’abneh, 48, a married father of nine who leased the field from a family in the village. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad on 28 June 2018, Ka’abneh related: 

Last night, at around nine, we saw that our field was going up in flames. I went there with my brothers and sons and other residents of the village, and we saw two settlers passing by near the field. We called the Palestinian fire brigade and DCO, and meanwhile started putting out the fire with dirt and stones. About twenty minutes later, a fire truck came and the firemen put out the remaining fires. 

Then the Israeli DCO people arrived with soldiers and police officers. They did nothing. One of the officers walked around the area and saw there were also 15 broken olive trees in a nearby grove that belongs to another family. The officer who took photos of the damage caused by the fire claimed that it had occurred two or three days earlier and that there was nothing they could do about it. I said: “Can’t you see there’s still smoke rising from the earth?” He paid no attention and just told me to go to the Binyamin police station to file a complaint. If an officer who’s there on the ground doesn’t want to listen to us, it’s a waste of time to go to a police station and file a complaint. 

The fire caused huge damage, especially because we were days away from the harvest. Now we have to buy animal feed for 50,000 or 60,000 shekels (USD 13,600-16,300). We may have to sell some of the flock or take out a loan to pay for the feed, because obviously we’re not going to get any compensation. All we can do is pray. 

 

Kafr Malek, 28 May 2018, 60 grapevines cut down: 

On 28 May 2018, settlers cut down about 60 out of more than 100 grapevines in the vineyard of Iyad 'Issa, 46, a married father of three and teacher from Kafr Malek, east of the village. The settlers sprayed the slogan "Regards from Esh Kodesh" on a nearby rock. See 'Issa's testimony in the above video.

 

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Graffiti left by settlers near Iyad ‘Issa’s vineyard in Kafr Malik. Photo by Iyad Hadad, B’Tselem, 29 May 2018

 

 The Nablus area: 

Burin, 23 June 2018, 150 olive trees burned down: 

On Saturday, 23 June 2018, settlers burned down 150 olive trees belonging to five families in the village of Burin. The settlement of Yitzhar was established some two kilometers from the village. The trees are on land that Palestinians cannot go to alone because it lies near the settlement, so they have to coordinate access with the Israeli DCO. When the villagers noticed the fire they called the Palestinian fire brigade, but it couldn’t get in until the DCO gave its okay.

Shadi Zaban, 37, a married father of two, is one of the firemen who arrived. Zaban also owns a quarter of a hectare with 180 trees, of which 70 burned down. He described what happened in a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i on 26 June 2018: 

On Saturday, 23 June 2018, at around 4:30 in the afternoon, I was at work at the Civil Defense unit in the Burin village center. I saw smoke rising in the southern part of the village, where my land is. I reported it immediately to my boss and asked him to call the DCO for authorization to send firemen there. That took about half an hour, and in the meantime I watched the fire devour the trees. After we got the okay, I went there with four other firemen. 

There is no road to the site of the fire, so one guy stayed behind in the fire truck and the others and I continued on foot with fire extinguishers. We walked for about fifteen minutes. People from the village came and helped us put the fire out. It was a complete disaster. The hot weather made the fire spread quickly. Once the sun went down, the permission from the DCO to be on the land expired and we had to leave, for fear of the settlers. I saw about eight settlers watching us from the Yitzhar security road, standing next to the settlement security officer’s vehicle. 


The olive oil and olives we get from the grove are used by my entire extended family. It’s an important part of our lives, and now we’ve lost 70 trees. 

 

Akram ‘Imran, 49, a married father of seven who lives in Burin, lost seven of his roughly 110 olive trees in the fire. In a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i on 26 June 2018, he stated: 

On Saturday, 23 June 2018, at around four o’clock in the afternoon, I was at home. Suddenly I saw a fire spreading across the hill opposite my home, close to my land. I saw some eight to ten settlers about 1.5-2 kilometers from the land. I didn’t wait for coordination [with the DCO] and immediately drove there with my tractor. When I got close, near the road to Yitzhar, I saw that other people from the village had come because they had noticed the fire. By the time we got there, the settlers had already headed back towards Yitzhar and were watching us from afar, standing on the road to the settlement. The only thing we could do was use tree branches to try and put out the fire. 

About fifteen minutes later, a fire truck from the village arrived, but they had to stop about a kilometer and a half away from the fire because there’s no road leading there. The firemen had to continue on foot, carrying fire extinguishers. The fire damaged about 150 trees, seven of them mine. 

We want to go back to the land to evaluate the damage. Often a fire leaves no visible marks on trees but a few days later they dry up and die. Sometimes you can revive them by pruning them. We asked the head of the local council to speak with the Israeli DCO and organize urgent permission for us to access the land and save the trees that can still be saved. 

* Update: Inquiries made by B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i reveal that as of 17 July 2018, ‘Imran has been unable to receive coordination to access his land and tend to the salvageable trees. He was told he would be able to get coordination to access the land only during the harvest.

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Bailed barely torched in Munir Qadus’ field in Burin. Photo by Munir Qadus, Burin, 8 June 2018

Burin, 8 June 2018, 86 bales of hay burned: 

Munir Qadus, 42, is a married father of one from Burin who leases a quarter of a hectare near the southern outskirts of the village. The settlement of Yitzhar was established about three kilometers from there. Qadus grows wheat and barley on the land to feed his livestock. He planted the barley in November 2017 and harvested it in May 2018, leaving it out in the sun to dry. Qadus stacked the hay in bales but as he couldn’t find hired help during Ramadan, was awaiting the end of the month to store it. A few days before he planned to do so, on 8 June 2018, settlers set fire to the bales.

Qadus described what happened in a testimony he gave B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i on 13 June 2018: 

At 1:30 in the morning, I was praying at the mosque in the village center when my brother-in-law came in and told me my hay was on fire. I went to the land immediately with some young men who helped me put out the fire. We stayed there until 3:30. The settlers removed three bales of hay from the area they torched and sprayed graffiti on them. An official from the Israeli DCO who arrived said the slogans read “No to farmer terrorism”. I found that odd and asked him: Who is the victim of terrorism, us or the settlers? 

I worked with my brother for a long time and we put a lot of money and effort into that field. In the end, the bales of hay went up in a whiff of smoke. I need the hay to feed my flock, because we don’t have enough pastureland in the village. We’re surrounded by settlements to the east and south and have nowhere to take our flocks to graze. In any case, what I grow isn’t enough for the whole year and I have to buy more, including nutritional supplements. Now I’ll have to buy a lot more than usual. I would say that every bale of hay was worth about 25 shekels, so all in all I lost 2,150 shekels (USD 585).

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Graffiti sprayed by settlers on a bail of barley. Photo by Munir Qadus, Burin, 8 June 2018

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Settler Violence = State Violence

Israel used the Gaza war to impose extreme restrictions on the annual West Bank olive harvest

The annual olive harvest in the West Bank is a key element of the Palestinian economy and a crucial source of income for tens of thousands of families. The World Bank and the Palestine Trade Center estimate that in good years, it injects almost 200 million dollars into the Palestinian economy. However, every year, Israel extensively restricts Palestinians’ ability to carry out the harvest, using official and unofficial means. In 2023, while the war in the Gaza Strip was underway, these restrictions reached new heights, leaving about 50% of Palestinian farmers unable to harvest their trees, according to estimates of the Palestinian Farmers’ Union.The main official measure Israel uses is the “coordination” system, conceived as the military’s response to settler violence against Palestinian harvesters. Instead of dealing directly with assaults by settlers, the military places the onus on Palestinians, demanding they coordinate access to their land in advance – ostensibly so soldiers can be sent to protect them. In practice, this system limits the harvest or prevents it altogether. Harvesting all the olives takes weeks, but the military enables farmers access to their trees for several days only. This means they are unable to harvest the entire crop or prepare the land for winter crops. At the same time, this system does not stop settler violence. Soldiers often do not show up despite prior “coordination” with the military; when they do, they do not prevent or stop the violence, often even joining in.In recent years, the Civil Administration allocated every community three days a year to harvest olives. This year, immediately after the war in Gaza broke out, even these few days were canceled. Several alternative dates were set, but bowing to pressure from settlers, the military canceled some of these as well, for example near the settlements of Elkana, Sha’arei Tikva and Etz Efrayim.The head of the Burin village council, Ibrahim ‘Umran, told B’Tselem that about 12,000 dunams (1,200 hectares) of village farmland, which covers two-thirds of all the village’s land, lie within Area C. On about 1,000 dunams (100 hectares) of these are olive groves with 16,000 trees. Residents were allocated two days to harvest their olives, on 25 and 26 October 2023, and both were canceled once the war broke out. ‘Umran says about 70% of village residents rely on income from the harvest and lost tens of thousands of shekels meant to support them throughout the year. As the expected income was slated for expenses such as rent, home construction, university tuition and the like, the restrictions this year have impacted them directly.1“Coordination” is also required for farmland that remains cut off on the other side of the Separation Barrier. The head of the ‘Akkabah village regional council, Taysir ‘Amarneh, told B’Tselem that local residents own about 2,500 dunams (250 hectares) of farmland west of the barrier, which they used to access daily through a gate in the fence. When the war broke out, the gate was closed. Residents were allocated three “coordination” days in late November, only after negotiations between the Israeli and Palestinian DCOs. This did not give residents enough time to harvest olives for private use, let alone complete the harvest, severely hurting their livelihoods.2Unofficially, harvesters are obstructed by settlers’ violent assaults. These attacks are permitted and backed by the military, with soldiers often takin part. For years, settler violence against Palestinians has peaked during the harvest season, yet Israeli authorities consistently refrain from taking preventive action as a matter of policy. This year, with the war in Gaza underway, the military has enlisted many settlers for regional operations in the West Bank. The settlers have used this power to block roads leading to Palestinian land and to set up roadblocks on agricultural roads, denying Palestinians access to olive groves near settlements.Settler attacks on harvesters have increased in both intensity and frequency since the war began. According to the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs of the United Nations (OCHA), from the beginning of the war to mid-January, more than 440 incidents of settler violence took place – with scores of these assaults directed at olive harvesters. These incidents included settlers physically assaulting harvesters, uprooting large olive groves, vandalizing groves by breaking branches, sawing off trunks and torching trees, and stealing olives. Many of the attacks were carried out in the presence of Israeli forces. Settlers also threatened to harm harvesters on social media.The head of the ‘Awarta village council, Sa’ed ‘Awwad, told B’Tselem the village has about 2,000 dunams (200 hectares) of land, located near the settlement of Itamar, that the military does not allow residents to access without prior “coordination”. This year, residents were allocated only one day for harvesting, starting at 8:00 A.M. On the scheduled day, ‘Awwad was informed the start time had been pushed back two hours. When the residents arrived at their land, they found about 20 settlers harvesting their olive trees with several soldiers standing guard. They tried unsuccessfully to put an end to the theft and eventually left at around 4:00 P.M., while the settlers were still picking their olives and vandalizing the trees.3This year, as in previous years, the police have not investigated these violent incidents. In the most severe incident in the 2023 harvest, on 27 October, a soldier from the settlement of Rehelim on military leave killed Belal Salah, 40, a resident of a-Sawiyah, while he was harvesting his family’s olive trees. The soldier, who was suspected of reckless homicide and illegal use of a firearm, was released after a short time in detention and returned to his unit.This Israeli policy has caused immediate financial harm to tens of thousands of Palestinian families. For instance, the olive press in the village of al-Mughayir, which also serves the villages of Kafr Malik, Turmusaya, Abu Falah and Duma, produced only 20% of the average annual output this year – 60 tons of olive oil instead of 300 tons. The olive press at al-Mazra’ah al-Qibliyah produced only 500 kilograms of olive oil this year, instead of 150 tons.The 2023 harvest was especially important this year as the Palestinian economy is already struggling due to the war in Gaza – particularly because of the prohibition on laborers entering Israel and the Palestinian Authority’s suspension of public sector salaries.The systemic obstruction of the olive harvest this year, augmented by organized settler violence against harvesters and their property, is not unique to this time of war. It is part of Israel’s longstanding violent policy, which aims to cement the apartheid regime in the West Bank and allow continued expansion of settlements. Bezalel Smotrich, who serves as Minister of Finance and Minister in the Ministry of Defense, and MK Tzvi Sukkot, Chair of the Knesset Subcommittee on Judea and Samaria Affairs, have already said “sterile security spaces” should be created near settlements, where Palestinians would be denied entry altogether. This would clear the way for the state to take over this land and use it for its own purposes.Testimonies:‘Abdallah Na’asan from the village of al-Mughayir told B’Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad:My family has more than 900 dunams of land with more than 8,000 olive trees on both sides of the Allon Route, which was always freely accessible all year round, and some near the outpost of Adei Ad, which you had to get “coordination” to access. We’d get between five and seven days of “coordination” each year. This year, after the war in Gaza started, Israel canceled everything. The army closed off all the entrances and agricultural roads, eight roads in total, with rocks and piles of dirt.We managed to sneak into our land a few times, but didn’t always evade the settlers’ aggression. They usually have a drone in the air and see anyone who tries to get close to the land. When they see us, they chase us or call the army, and then our equipment or vehicles are confiscated. So far, the army has confiscated two of our tractors.We put up a real fight through a village resident who works at the Palestinian DCO, and managed to get three days of “coordination” in early December to harvest the olives off the Allon Route. When we got there, we found all our fruit on the ground, which meant we couldn’t use it to produce edible oil or anything else because of the high acidity. Even if we wanted to make soap out of it, it would be very expensive and not profitable. That’s how we lost this season.In previous seasons, we produced about 40,000 kg a year from our land. Each kg sold in the market for NIS 30 (~ USD 8). We would sell in the village or on the Palestinian market, and would also export some to the United States. All that gave us a nice income. But this year, we made nothing. We didn’t even manage to pick olives for our own use, which means we’ll have to buy some to make up for the shortfall. On the other hand, we racked up a lot of costs cultivating the olives, buying fertilizers and pesticides and plowing – a total of about 300,000 NIS (~ USD 81,750). On top of that, we have labor costs. Every year, more than 30 laborers work for us during the harvest season. They also lost their income this year and were hurt. They support at least 150 people. We have 10 other laborers who work for us year round, and they were also hurt.After October 7, settlers destroyed our trees and lands. We saw the settlers from the shepherding farms spread out in the eastern part of the village setting their flocks to graze in our groves. The sheep ate the leaves and branches and destroyed them. That make the trees dry up and die, and it can two to three years for the trees to recover. We found out that bulldozers belonging to the settlers were used to rake our land near the Adei Ad outpost, where we have about 400 trees. When we went to file a complaint with the Binyamin police, a Jewish interrogator asked my uncle how we managed to take photos of the settlers, as if we were guilty.We also have an olive press which we started in the village in 2010. We work with farmers from al-Mughayir and the surrounding villages, such as Kafr Malik, Turmusaya, Abu Falah and Duma. The olive press’ operating cycle was always synced with the harvest season for 50 days, averaging 10 hours of work a day. It produced six tons of oil a day. We produced about 300 tons of oil in a season. This year, the olive press barely worked. We only managed to produce 60 tons of oil, which is about 20% of the normal annual output. Wasim Ladadwah from al-Mazra’ah al-Qibliyah told B’Tselem field researcher Iyad Hadad:There are about 100 people in my extended family and we own about 450 dunams of land, half of them olive groves. Unfortunately, our groves are close to the settlements of Nahaliel, Kerem Re’im, Talmon and Haresha. During the current harvest season, we couldn’t harvest the trees because soldiers and settlers – some in army uniforms – wouldn’t let us get to them.On 11 October 2023, residents of the town, including my family, tried to access the olive groves close to the town. These lands are hundreds of meters away from the settlements, and no coordination was ever required to access them. But when we got closer, soldiers and settlers attacked us. There were about 30 of us, with women and children, and they threatened us with weapons and scared everyone. They destroyed some of the ladders and work tools we brought with us. Some of the farmers tried again to sneak into their groves, but those attempts failed too, because the army and the settlers are spread out day and night on the hilltops. The soldiers watch around the clock to follow farmers who try to get closer to their groves, including with drones. They shoot to scare them.Our loss is enormous. Each harvest season, we would produce about 250 cans of olive oil, each weighing 15 kg. In total, we would produce 3,750 kg of olive oil. Each kg costs NIS 40 (~ USD 10) on average. We lost it all, and that’s just our family. Everyone in the village lost a lot of money. I know this because I am a member of several committees in the village and an agricultural activist.The town has 14,200 dunams of land, 7,500 of them on the western side of town, which is surrounded by the settlements I mentioned earlier. That’s where our olive groves are. You could say that this year, more than 90% of the town’s olive oil production was stolen from us. The olive press in town usually produces about 10,000 cans of oil each harvest season, which is 150,000 kg of olive oil. This year, it produced only 500 kg of oil because the olives could not be harvested. We didn’t even produce enough for our own use this year, so we’ll have to buy that too, if we can even find oil on the market. After all, what happened to our town happened to all the towns and villages in the West Bank.Take me, for example. My family would produce 20 cans of oil each harvest. We’d consume four cans, which is 60 kilograms, and I would sell the rest. It was a significant income for us. This season, I was left with only three bottles, which are five kilograms. Some farmers were banking on the harvest season to finance the wedding of a son, or the construction of a house, or university studies. Other farmers, who are poor, waited for the harvest season because the income from it is their only source of livelihood, and they barely survive on that.The consequences of this crime also affect the olive trees themselves. Fruit left hanging on the trees rots and draws insects that damage the tree. This causes diseases that can dry out the tree, killing it. Leaving the fruit also greatly reduces the yield the following season, sometimes by half.

14 February 2024

Settlers attack palestinians during olive harvest in Surif, Hebron district. Photo by Shai Kendler, 11 Nov. 2021

Settler Violence = State Violence

West Bank olive harvest, 2021: Settlers attack farmers, steal olives and damage trees with full state backing

Settler violence against Palestinians is yet another method Israel uses to gain control of land in the West Bank. Settlers carry out a variety of violent acts against Palestinians, including physical assaults, stone throwing, threats and harassment, damaging of trees and crops, vandalism of cars, blocking of roads and even firing of live ammunition. As a result, Palestinians are afraid to go to their plots of land – which the state then takes over and uses for its own purposes. The Israeli authorities, including the security forces and the law enforcement system, are fully aware of this reality. They enable and back the settlers' violence, and then enjoy the outcome. Every year, settler violence during the olive harvest draws public attention in Israel and around the world– although for Palestinians, these acts are by now a routine feature of daily life. The temporary scrutiny is probably the primary reason why Israeli authorities claim to offer Palestinian farmers special protection during this season, in the form of a “coordination mechanism”: the military notifies farmers whose lands lie near settlements of specific days on which they are allowed to access their land for the harvest, and claims troops will be sent to protect them against violent settlers. Yet this mechanism, which is based on the absurd assumption that settler violence is an unalterable fact, was never intended to assist Palestinian farmers. Instead, its primary function is to create a false show of protection. Unsurprisingly, the mechanism does little for the farmers in reality: the days allotted to them are few and far between, and are often not enough to harvest all the olives. Since the farmers are barred access to their land all year round, they cannot tend to the trees, whose yield decreases. Even when the farmers reach their land on the scheduled dates, the military does not always protect them. Sometimes, no troops arrive, leaving the farmers vulnerable; at other times, soldiers do show up – but as soon as settlers appear, they quickly drive the Palestinians out of their own land, and do not balk at using force and weapons to do so. This year, the olive harvest season lasted from early October to the end of November. In that time, B’Tselem documented 45 incidents of settler violence against Palestinian harvesters and their property.* In these incidents, settlers physically assaulted farmers, stole crops, vandalized trees and damaged personal or agricultural property. Yet again, the violence was fully backed by the state – primarily by the military, which could have prepared for the attacks and prevented them, but instead allowed them to continue unimpeded. Even when soldiers were present, they often refrained from helping the Palestinian harvesters. In 18 of the incidents, security forces were present during the attacks. In 10 of these, the soldiers supposedly sent to protect the harvesters joined in the violence against them. In three of the 10 incidents, they even dispersed the harvesters using tear gas canisters, stun grenades and rubber-coated metal bullets. For example, on 23 October 2021, in the Turmusaya plain – an agricultural area in Ramallah District – about 20 masked settlers attacked harvesters with clubs and stones and injured several of them, including minors. They also vandalized and torched cars belonging to town residents. Soldiers who arrived fired tear gas canisters and rubber-coated metal bullets at residents who had come to help the families under attack. Two of the residents sustained minor injuries from the bullets. The 45 incidents B’Tselem documented in the 2021 harvest season appear on this map: OLIVE MAP The Israeli authorities, including law enforcement agencies, are well aware of this reality. Several official commissions of inquiry have examined the issue; human rights organizations issued dozens of reports on it; and the Knesset has held several debates on the matter over the years. Yet the policy remains unchanged. It will remain so as long as this reality continues to serve Israel’s long-term goals in the West Bank – chiefly, dispossessing Palestinians of their land. Only when Israel is forced to pay a price for implementing this policy, will change be possible. * One of the incidents took place in early December, as the Israeli DCO did not permit the farmers to reach their land earlier. The following testimonies were collected by B’Tselem field researchers Iyad Hadad, Salma a-Deb’i and Abdulkarim Sadi during the 2021 harvest season: In a testimony he gave on 23 October 2021, Muntasser Salameh (50), a resident of the village of Turmusaya in Ramallah District, described how settlers attacked him and his family while they were harvesting olives on their land: We couldn't see the settlers because the trees were hiding them, but pretty soon, some of them reached us. They were masked and were carrying clubs and sticks. They looked like a gang of robbers. We didn't have time to escape. They chased us, threw stones at us, and beat us with clubs and sticks. We tried to run and defend ourselves as much as we could. I was terrified for my daughters Sa'ida (10) and Janat (5). I picked them up, carried them away and sat them under one of the trees. Then I joined my brother and the young men who were there, and we tried to defend ourselves. The girls were crying and terrified, but I had no choice. I had to leave them so I could fend off the settlers... While I was helping the neighbors lift up the fence between our grove and theirs so the kids could escape, four settlers jumped me. Click here for the full report In his testimony, Yusef Hamuda (64), a farmer from the village of Yasuf in Salfit District, recounted how the settlers attacked him and his family on 15 October 2021 and how soldiers drove the family away from their land the next day: I looked around and saw more than 30 masked settlers with tarps and ladders. They started throwing stones at us with slingshots. A stone hit me in the head, my wife was hit in the shin and several stones hit my son in the back. We started running away while trying to defend ourselves and fend off the settlers [...] The next day, Saturday, 16 October 2021, we went out to our grove at around 9:30 A.M. When we arrived, six soldiers showed up and demanded we leave. They said that entering the area required prior coordination with the military. One of the soldiers grabbed my son Hamza (30) and tried to knock him to the ground, but Hamza stood firm. He said to us, "If we listen to them and leave this time, they'll force us to into prior coordination. This is our land, and no one will make us leave." Then the soldiers tried to constrain Hamza, and when my wife tried to get them off him, they pushed her. In the end, we managed to get Hamza away with great difficulty, because we were afraid they'd arrest him. Read the full testimony here Jomanah Suliman (44), another resident of Yasuf, was harvesting olives on 15 October 2021 in In a nearby plot. In her testimony, she described how she was attacked by settlers: When I tried to gather the olives I'd already picked, one of the settlers suddenly sprayed me with pepper spray. He was holding a canister in one hand and a gun in the other. I couldn't see a thing. I could only hear them shouting and swearing at me, and stones falling on the ground in every direction. A stone hit me in the shoulder and I fell down. I crawled to the road on all fours. My face felt like it was on fire. When I got to the road, I lay down on the ground, exhausted. I couldn't stand up. My whole body was trembling. I’ve heard that in a few days’ time, we’ll be able to go to the land with coordination . But who will come with me after what happened? None of the laborers will agree to come. It still gives me nightmares. What did I do? All I did was go to my land, my only source of income. I have no one to provide for me but God. They’ve ruined me. I'm in a terrible mental state. Read the full testimony here In his testimony, Diab Ladawdeh (90), a farmer from the village of al-Mazra’ah al-Qibliyah in Ramallah District, recounted how he discovered on 19 October 2021 that settlers had cut down 140 olive trees he had planted on his plot about 40 years ago: Last harvest season, in October 2020, the settlers put up a gate at the entrance to the road leading to our land, to make our access difficult. They hold the keys and decide who enters the land. The settlers don't allow anyone here to lead a normal life. They don't want to see any of us enjoy our land and benefit from it [...] While the neighbors and representatives of human rights organizations were counting the ruined trees, I watched from a distance. They counted 140 trees on my land that had been cut down with a chainsaw at the trunk, so they wouldn't grow back. I felt my heart tearing apart. I sobbed over the years of toil gone down the drain. Years of work wiped out overnight, with only a few remains left. I lost 140 trees, and I felt pain over every single one of them [...] I pray I'll be healthy enough to rebuild the plot with my sons and grandsons, restore it to its former state and fight the settlers' greed that way. They're doing everything they can to make us abandon the land, so they can take it over. Read the full testimony here Testimony of Ibrahim Salah (68), a farmer from the village of Far’ata in Qalqiliyah District, who discovered on 11 October 2021 that settlers had stolen olives and cut down trees in his grove: Before the settlers came and took over the land and put up trailers there, my grove had 450 fruit-bearing olive trees. Over the years, the settlers cut down or burned olive trees and raked land with trees on it. Now there are only 240 trees left [...] The settlers also started picking the olives before we managed to get to the land and harvest them. They can do that thanks to the coordination that the Civil Administration imposes on us. Since 2005, they've set specific dates for us and only allow on to go to the land on those days. They only give us one day to plow and spray herbicides, and only four or five days for the harvest itself [...] Usually, the dates set for us are relatively late in the season, and when we get there we find that the settlers have already harvested most of the trees and stolen the fruit [...] We gather what’s left of the olives as quickly as possible, within a day or two at most [...] All the harassment and assaults have made us and the other farmers afraid to reach the land, and we cultivate it less. It has forced my children to look for alternative sources of income, and they now work in Israel. Read the full testimony here Khalil Isma’il (46), a farmer from the town of Salfit, recounted how, on 3 October 2021, a settler stole olives from his land while a police officer looked on: On 3 October 2021, I was at home when a town resident called and asked if I was harvesting olives on my land that lies beyond the settlement fence. I immediately said I was home and that the date we’d been given to start the harvest was a week away. I realized the settlers were using the time until the Israeli authorities allowed us to access our land in order to pick the olives themselves… I got permission from the Israeli DCO to enter my land via the entrance to the settlement of Ariel. When I got to my land, I saw a settlers’ car. Inside it were sacks of olives they’d picked on my land. The car immediately drove out of the plot. I told the police officer who was there that he had to stop the car because it had sacks of my olives in it, but he didn’t care. Read the full testimony here * * * Qaryut, Nablus District: Israeli security forces guard olive theft from Palestinian grove In another incident, documented on video, about 30 members of the Johar family from the village of Qaryut in Nablus District came on the morning of 18 October 2021 to the first harvest day the military had allotted them on their land. They found a settler harvesting their trees, escorted by soldiers, Border Police officers and a settlement guard. The soldiers helped the settler gather his equipment and leave with the olives he had picked. When they checked the grove, the family discovered that settlers had harvested most of the olives from about 120 trees and uprooted and stolen about 10 fruit-bearing olive trees, leaving only pits behind. The family’s grove is located about 4 kilometers southeast of the village and is hemmed in on either side by the outposts of Kida and ‘Adei Ad.

25 January 2022

The Palestinian village of Nahalin and the settlement of Beitar Illit. Photo by Anne Paq, Activestills, 11 March 2019.

Settlements

This Is Ours – And This, Too: New report by B’Tselem and Kerem Navot reviews Israeli development of West Bank settlements over last decade

A new report issued today by B’Tselem and Kerem Navot, “This Is Ours – And This, Too: Israel’s Settlement Policy in the West Bank”, exposes the mechanisms Israel uses to encourage its citizens to move into the occupied territory. The report also reviews developments on the ground over the last decade, focusing on the spatial impact of the two large settlement blocs. Two key aspects of Israel’s policy are examined: First, the report details the official and unofficial ways in which Israel encourages Jews to move to settlements and develop financial ventures in and around them. Among other things, the state offers settlers housing benefits, allowing lower-income families to purchase homes. These benefits are one factor contributing to the growth in the settler population, which in 2019 numbered 441,619 people (in the West Bank, not including East Jerusalem) – an increase of 42% since 2010 and of 222% since 2000. In 2019 alone, the settler population grew by 3.2% – 68% more than the overall population growth rate for Israeli citizens and residents that year, which was just 1.9%. The two largest settlements – the ultra-orthodox cities of Modi’in Illit and Beitar Illit – have grown especially fast. By the end of 2020, they had a combined population of 140,053, comprising nearly a third of all settlers in the West Bank – an increase of 62% since 2010, when the combined population numbered 86,200, and of 435% since 2000, when they had 32,200 residents together. By offering housing solutions beyond the Green Line, the state is essentially exploiting the ultra-orthodox community’s low socioeconomic status and housing shortage to serve its own needs and further its agenda. The state also grants benefits and incentives to Israeli industrial zones in the West Bank by offering discounted land fees and employment subsidies to factories, encouraging their steady growth. More incentives, provided by various authorities, encourage settlers to take over Palestinian farmland and pastureland. Over the last decade, settlers have established some 40 sheep and cattle farms throughout the West Bank, taking over tens of thousands of dunams [1 dunam = 1,000 square meters] where access is now completely or mostly denied to Palestinians. Most of these farms lie on “state land” and control hundreds and sometimes thousands of dunams. Most are surrounded by farmland owned by Palestinians, whom settlers prevent from entering by employing violence, sometimes severe. Some of the pastureland these settlers have taken over, and the pathways leading to them, lie within areas Israel has declared firing zones. Second, the report analyzes the spatial impact of two settlement blocs that cut across the West Bank. The first bloc, built south of Bethlehem, includes the settlements of Beitar Illit and Efrat and the settlements belonging to the Gush Etzion Regional Council. The other bloc lies in the center of the West Bank and consists of the settlements of Ariel, Rehelim, Eli, Ma’ale Levona, Shilo and the outposts built around them. Some 121,000 settlers currently live in both blocs together, and expansion plans are underway to add tens of thousands of residents. Similar plans have rapidly increased the population in both blocs over the last decade. Implementing the new plans is expected to double and even triple the population of Efrat in the coming decades; Beitar Illit’s population is expected to grow by 20,000 and Ariel’s by about 8,000. The impact of the two settlement blocs extends far beyond their number of residents or the size of their built-up areas. The southern bloc severs Palestinian space between Bethlehem and Hebron and separates Bethlehem from its rural backland. The central bloc commands some of the most fertile farmland in the West Bank. The two blocs also command the main longitudinal and latitudinal roads in the area, fragmenting the West Bank into separate geographical units. Click here to enlarge map. Following the establishment of the two blocs, Palestinians lost access to thousands of dunams of farmland and pastureland – whether directly (in areas declared “state land” or closed by military order) or as a result of state-backed settler violence, which deters Palestinians from trying to access their land. Around the settlements of Tekoa and Nokdim, for example, Palestinians are barred access to at least 10,000 dunams. Around the settlements of Shilo and Eli and their satellite outposts, their access is barred to at least 26,500 dunams. Israel’s policies regarding the settlements are a clear expression of the Israeli apartheid regime, which employs various methods to promote and perpetuate the supremacy of one group – Jews – over another group – Palestinians – in the entire area between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea. Israel’s massive investments further entrench its hold on the West Bank, clearly demonstrating the regime’s long-term plans. These include cementing the position of millions of Palestinians as subjects denied rights and protection, who are deprived of any ability to influence their own future and are forced to live in disconnected, dwindling, economically suppressed enclaves. They are forced to look on as they are dispossessed of more and more land, while communities and infrastructure are built for Jews. Two decades into the 21st century, Israel appears more determined than ever to continue upholding and perpetuating an apartheid regime throughout the area under its control, well into the coming decades.

9 March 2021