Palestinian olive harvest under threat from Israeli attacks and restrictions

On a Thursday afternoon late last month, 59-year-old Palestinian Hanan Abu Salameh went to harvest olives on her family’s land near the village of Faqqua in the northern occupied West Bank. It was an activity she had done for decades.

Tragically, her routine ended in violence. Within minutes, the mother of seven and grandmother of 14 was lying in the dust with a fatal bullet wound to her chest, shot by an Israeli soldier.

According to her husband, Hossam, and son, Fares, the family had coordinated their olive-picking plans with the Israel Defense Forces (IDF). Yet, as they worked, a soldier opened fire, causing family members to flee for cover. Hanan was hit by one of the bullets.

The IDF says it is investigating the incident, but her grieving family has little hope that the soldier responsible will face justice.

This is far from an isolated event.

An Age-Old Tradition Under Siege

The olive harvest is a critical economic and cultural tradition for Palestinians, but the activity has become increasingly perilous. Farmers in the West Bank—land internationally recognized as Palestinian territory occupied by Israel—are facing growing threats. These include attacks by Israeli settlers aimed at sabotaging harvests and violent restrictions by Israeli security forces.

“Last year, we could barely harvest any olives,” said Omar Tanatara, a farmer and council member in the village of Umm Safa. “The army came, threw our gathered olives on the ground, and ordered us to leave. Some people were even shot at, and trees were cut down.”

Despite efforts by Israeli and international activists to accompany farmers and deter attacks, safety is not guaranteed.

Zuraya Hadad, an Israeli peace activist, recounted being violently assaulted while assisting Palestinian farmers. In a video of the incident, a masked man struck her with a large stick, breaking her ribs. Israeli soldiers, who were present, did not intervene or arrest her attacker.

“Even when we come to help, it doesn’t ensure Palestinians can harvest their olives,” Zuraya said, recovering from her injuries. “If settlers don’t steal the olives or cut the trees, they often remain unpicked and go to waste.”

The Struggle for Land and Livelihood

For thousands of Palestinian families, olive cultivation is not just a livelihood but a connection to their land. Yet, access to this land is increasingly restricted. Settlers have burned or cut down hundreds of olive trees, some of which take years to mature. According to the UN, over 96,000 dunums (96 square kilometers) of olive groves went uncultivated in 2023 due to Israeli-imposed restrictions.

At a nearby olive press, villagers from Umm Safa bring sacks of their harvest to be turned into olive oil—a product often called “liquid gold” for its economic importance.

“This is our main agricultural product,” said factory owner Abd al-Rahman Khalifa. “Like the Gulf depends on oil, we depend on olive trees. But attacks by settlers are making it harder every year.”

He described how his brother-in-law was assaulted while trying to harvest olives near an Israeli settlement. “They broke his arms and forced him and everyone else to leave,” Khalifa said.

Settler Violence and Political Support

Overlooking the olive groves of Umm Safa is an illegal settler outpost run by Zvi Bar Yosef, a settler sanctioned by Western governments for repeated violence against Palestinians. Settler violence has surged, emboldened by far-right Israeli ministers like National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir, who has distributed firearms to settlers and encouraged them to claim what they call their “God-given” land.

Ben-Gvir has also faced accusations of supporting the disruption of Palestinian olive harvests. For Palestinians, the olive tree is more than just a source of income—it is a symbol of their heritage and connection to the land. But with increasing threats to their access and safety, that connection is now more fragile than ever.