Gaza War, Settler Attacks Ruin Palestinian Olive Harvest

A Palestinian farmer carries a sack of olives during the harvest season in the village of Qusra, south of Nablus in the occupied West Bank - AFP
A Palestinian farmer carries a sack of olives during the harvest season in the village of Qusra, south of Nablus in the occupied West Bank - AFP
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Gaza War, Settler Attacks Ruin Palestinian Olive Harvest

A Palestinian farmer carries a sack of olives during the harvest season in the village of Qusra, south of Nablus in the occupied West Bank - AFP
A Palestinian farmer carries a sack of olives during the harvest season in the village of Qusra, south of Nablus in the occupied West Bank - AFP

After a year of relentless war, Gaza's olive harvest is set to suffer, while in the occupied West Bank, Palestinian farmers fear to tend their groves due to settler attacks.

For generations, olive harvests have been central to Palestinian life and culture.

"We are happy that the olive season has started but we are afraid because we are in a state of war," said Rami Abu Asad, who owns a farm in Deir el-Balah, central Gaza.
"But it is clearly evident (to Israeli forces) that we are workers and we do nothing else," he said, noting a sweeping Israeli military operation in Jabalia, less than 20 kilometres (12 miles) to the north.

The ongoing war has reduced vast areas of Gaza to rubble, with about 68 percent of the territory's agricultural areas damaged by the conflict and farmers unable to fertilise or irrigate their land, the UN says.

"The number of remaining olive trees is very small and the costs are very high," Asad added.

- Low production -

Jamal Abou Shaouish, an agricultural engineer, expects this year's harvest in Gaza to net just 15,000 tonnes, sharply down from around 40,000 tonnes in the years before the war.

Supply shortages and destruction caused by the war will also impact the quality of olives, while pressing prices have soared due to the lack of fuel needed to run the machinery required for sorting and pressing the oil.

In the West Bank, the harvest has been marred by perennial fears of attacks by Israeli settlers, who regularly prevent Palestinians from accessing their olive groves or outright destroy their orchards.

For Khaled Abdallah, he has made the tough decision not to harvest the olives this season on his land near the Beit El settlement.

"I didn't even consider going to these lands close to the colony, because the situation is very dangerous," he told AFP, saying he will instead focus on harvesting olives from a separate property in the village of Jifna, north of Ramallah.

Like other Palestinians who own olive groves near the settlements, Abdallah coordinated with Israeli advocacy organisations to obtain special permits for the crops.

"But there are no longer any rights organisations capable of protecting us from settler attacks, and there is no longer any coordination," he lamented.

Olive groves have long been essential to the economy and culture of the West Bank, but have also been the site of bloody clashes between farmers and encroaching Israeli settlers for decades, with the disputes hinging on access to land.

- West Bank violence -

In the past, settlers have assaulted Palestinians, set fire to or damaged their crops, stolen sheep and blocked them from getting to their land, water and grazing areas, according to the UN.

And since October 7, the violence has only intensified.

Attacks by settlers have increased "significantly" this year, said the Israeli human rights group Yesh Din.

According to the group's spokesperson Fadia Qawasmi, farmers from the village of Madama, south of Nablus, were prevented from accessing their plots for three years. Settlers also damaged their vehicles.

"The owners were expelled from their land by settlers from Itamar," said Abdallah Ziada, the head of the Madama village council. "Every day there are clashes."

"We cannot distinguish those who arrests us -- if they are settlers or soldiers, because they are sometimes in civilian clothes and armed, and other times in military uniform," Ziada added.

Earlier this week, the Palestinian health ministry in Ramallah said Israeli forces shot dead a woman in Faqoua village near Jenin while she harvested olives.

The Israeli military said it had prepared for the harvest season even during the time of war.

"This is done out of a commitment to maintaining the security of the area and its residents, while at the same time allowing the local residents to harvest their crops," the military said in a statement to AFP.

"(Israeli military) forces are securing the harvest in the coordinated areas."

For many poor Palestinian families, the olive season provides a vital source of income.

Earlier this week, UN experts said Palestinian farmers in the occupied West Bank are facing "the most dangerous olive season ever".



Family Returns to their Lebanese City to Find a Crater Where their 50-year-old Home Once Stood

Family Returns to their Lebanese City to Find a Crater Where their 50-year-old Home Once Stood
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Family Returns to their Lebanese City to Find a Crater Where their 50-year-old Home Once Stood

Family Returns to their Lebanese City to Find a Crater Where their 50-year-old Home Once Stood

In eastern Lebanon's city of Baalbek, the Jawhari family gathered around a gaping crater where their home once stood, tears streaming as they tried to make sense of the destruction.

“It is heart-breaking. A heartache that there is no way we will ever recover from,” said Lina Jawhari, her voice breaking as she hugged relatives who came to support the family. “Our world turned upside down in a second.”

The home, which was a gathering place for generations, was reduced to rubble by an Israeli airstrike on Nov. 1, leaving behind shattered memories and twisted fragments of a once-vibrant life.

The family, like thousands of Lebanese, were returning to check on their properties after the US-mediated ceasefire between Israel and Hezbollah went into effect early Wednesday.

Intense Israeli airstrikes over the past two months leveled entire neighborhoods in eastern and southern Lebanon, as well as the southern suburbs of Beirut. Nearly 1.2 million people have been displaced.

The airstrikes have left a massive trail of destruction across the country.

A photo of the Jawhari family's home — taken on a phone by Louay Mustafa, Lina’s nephew — is a visual reminder of what had been. As the family sifted through the rubble, each fragment recovered called them to gather around it.

A worn letter sparked a collective cheer, while a photo of their late father triggered sobs. Reda Jawhari had built the house for his family and was a craftsman who left behind a legacy of metalwork. The sisters cried and hoped to find a piece of the mosque-church structure built by their father. Minutes later, they lifted a mangled piece of metal from the debris. They clung to it, determined to preserve a piece of his legacy.

“Different generations were raised with love... Our life was music, dance, dabke (traditional dance). This is what the house is made up of. And suddenly, they destroyed our world. Our world turned upside down in a second. It is inconceivable. It is inconceivable," Lina said.

Despite their determination, the pain of losing their home and the memories tied to it remains raw.

Rouba Jawhari, one of four sisters, had one regret.

“We are sad that we did not take my mom and dad’s photos with us. If only we took the photos,” she said, clutching an ID card and a bag of photos and letters recovered from the rubble. “It didn’t cross our mind. We thought it’s two weeks and we will be back.”

The airstrike that obliterated the Jawhari home came without warning, striking at 1:30 p.m. on what was otherwise an ordinary Friday.

Their neighbor, Ali Wehbe, also lost his home. He had stepped out for food a few minutes before the missile hit and rushed back to find his brother searching for him under the rubble.

“Every brick holds a memory,” he said, gesturing to what remained of his library. “Under every book you would find a story.”