A farmer’s account of the 2025 harvest under attack
For generations, the olive harvest in Palestine has been a time of celebration. Families gather in groves passed down through centuries, picking fruit from trees that symbolize rootedness, resilience, and peace. But under Israeli occupation, the harvest has become a time of violence, fear, destruction, and dispossession.
This year, the violence has reached new extremes. After the start of the olive harvest, over just two weeks, Israeli settlers destroyed more than 900 trees and saplings across the West Bank.
Over the same period, OCHA reported a sharp escalation in settler violence across the West Bank, documenting 71. Half of these incidents (36) were directly linked to the olive harvest season, affecting Palestinians in 27 villages. The attacks included physical assaults on harvesters, theft of crops and tools, and widespread vandalism of olive trees, resulting in injuries and property damage. In Beita village, settlers reportedly accompanied by Israeli forces assaulted Palestinian farmers and international activists, injuring 60 people and destroying vehicles and equipment, including water infrastructure.
The attacks are not isolated incidents but part of a systematic campaign, carried out under the protection - and often coordination - of the Israeli military. In Ramallah, Hebron, Jenin, Salfit, and Nablus, they assaulted, expelled, even kidnapped farmers. They stole or destroyed harvested olives, tools, and infrastructure. In Al-Mughayyir alone, they cut down 150 mature trees in a single day while soldiers blocked farmers from accessing their land.
This is not new. For decades, Palestinian farmers have faced settler violence, land confiscation, and military restrictions. The olive harvest has become increasingly dangerous with each year bringing more attacks, closures, and losses. Ajith Sunghay, Head of the UN Human Rights Office in the Occupied Palestinian Territory, captured this reality in his remarks on 21 October:
“The olive here is never just a tree. It is livelihood and lineage, resilience and economy, and a historic vein connecting Palestinians to the land.”
He warned that the escalating assault on the olive harvest is part of a broader strategy “to sever the connection, to annex the land, to dispossess Palestinians, and facilitate the expansion of illegal Israeli settlements.”
Destroying olive trees is especially cruel. Each tree takes up to 10 years to mature. Their loss means not just a single ruined harvest, but a decade of economic hardship. PFU estimates damage this season alone of over $1 million. But the true cost is immeasurable. These trees are part of our identity. Their roots run as deep as our history.
Israeli settlers and soldiers also targeted our infrastructure: burning agricultural vehicles, destroying wells and water pipelines, looting solar panels and irrigation systems, and vandalizing storage rooms. In some villages, settlers arrived in buses and tractors to pick the olives from the Palestinian groves under military protection. In others, farmers were beaten unconscious or hospitalized. The violence is daily, deliberate, and designed to intimidate.
This year, even international volunteers - who have long played a vital role in providing protective presence and documenting abuses - were targeted. On 20 October, Israeli authorities detained and began deporting 32 volunteers including from Ireland, France, Greece, and the United States. These volunteers were invited by Palestinian communities to accompany families to their groves, helping with the harvest and to deter settler violence. Their peaceful presence has saved lives and protected livelihoods. Their removal is a clear attempt to suppress international witnessing and conceal the reality on the ground.
Despite these detentions, dozens of international companions remain deployed alongside families. Their solidarity is a lifeline and a message to the world that Palestinians are not alone.
This is occupation. It is not just about checkpoints and walls, it is about controlling the land and breaking the will of a people. The olive tree stands in the way of that project. It is a symbol of permanence, of rootedness, of resistance.
And yet, we remain. In Al-Mughayyir and dozens of other villages, farmers continue to return to their fields, supported by volunteers and solidarity groups. One farmer told me, “They want to intimidate us and weaken our presence. But we will not abandon our land.” His words carry the weight of generations.
To the international community: we ask that you not only witness our suffering, but act. Protect Palestinian farmers. Demand accountability. Support our right to live and farm in peace.
Because every olive tree cut down is not just a loss of fruit - it is an attempt to uproot a people. And we will not be uprooted.