In recent years — and especially since 7 October 2023 — there has been a sharp increase in both the number and severity of settler attacks against Palestinians. The incidents reported on this blog do not reflect all incidents of settler violence in the West Bank, but only those that B’Tselem was able to document and investigate.
In November, the Israel DCO issued the Beit Furik village council permission to hold four days of olive harvesting on land in the western side of the village, starting on 18 November 2024. Residents were entirely barred from their land during the 2023 harvest season. When they went to the land on 18 November, around 8:00 A.M., soldiers waiting for them along the way told them the harvest was canceled due to forecasted rain and forced them to leave.
The next day, 19 November, around 10:00 A.M., the farmers returned to the land and began harvesting. Soon after, a settlement guard drove up and ordered them over a loudspeaker to leave immediately. Farmer Ihab Hanani (55) told the settler the harvest was permitted by the DCO, but the latter claimed it was not and continued to order the farmers to leave. Some did leave and soon afterwards, several soldiers arrived and helped the settler expel the rest.
Over the next two days, the farmers managed to pick olives from 8:00 A.M. to 4:30 P.M. This was not enough time to complete the harvest, despite the poor yield after two years of neglect while the farmers were denied access.
B’Tselem field researcher Salma a-Deb’i collected testimonies from several of the farmers:
Wahibah Hanani (53), a mother of seven, spoke about the first harvest day canceled:
Yesterday, 18 November 2024, we had permission to harvest from 8:00 A.M. to 4:00 P.M. When we got there, three soldiers who were waiting for us said there was no permission, because no soldiers would stay to protect us in the rain, so we had to leave because they couldn’t take responsibility for us. They kicked us out along with all the other farmers who came to the area.
We don’t know what to do. The olives are still on the trees. We see them but can’t reach them or pick them. We can’t touch them.
This is the second year we’ve been denied access to our land. We haven’t been able to harvest our olives since the start of the war in Gaza. They stop us from getting there using a different excuse each time.
We have five dunams [0.5 hectares] with 120 large olive trees, which would yield about eight gallons of oil a year for us. This is our only land, and we rely on these trees for private use, but last year we weren’t able to pick a single olive.
This year, the harvest season is almost over and we still haven’t been allowed access to our land.
Ihab Hanani (55), a father of eight, also spoke about the prevention of the harvest:
On 18 November 2024, we went to our land at 8:00 A.M., and soldiers waiting for us there said that because of the rain, there would be no soldiers to protect us so they couldn’t take responsibility for us. Just like that, using rain as an excuse, they kicked us out and didn’t let us harvest our olives.
The next day, 19 November, we went to our land in the morning. We finished spreading the tarps under the trees and preparing the ladder and equipment, when the settlement guard drove up in his security vehicle, armed with a gun. Over a loudspeaker, he ordered all the residents picking olives to leave the area, in Arabic.
He was standing a few meters away from us. I told him, “There’s coordination for today,” and he answered in Arabic, “There’s no coordination. Yalla, leave and don’t come back!” I said, “Why should we leave? The Israeli DCO told the local council we had coordination to harvest olives in this area for four days, and yesterday soldiers kicked us out too, because they said it was raining.”
Even though we received coordination, every day they kick us out. We had to gather our things and leave without a single olive.
