Palestine-Israel

'A symbol of Palestinian resilience as old as time'

Documenting the olive harvest in the West Bank.

Jacob Lazarus

— 4 min read
'A symbol of Palestinian resilience as old as time'
An olive tree in Kufr Malik, standing tall since 1750, guarded by its caretaker.

The olive harvest is a pivotal season in the Palestinian calendar, in both practical and spiritual terms. Families gather with friends and neighbours, climbing trees to reach the fruit high above and lounging on tarpaulins down below to separate olives from branches.

A nun reaches among olives branches in Battir, near Bethlehem.
A farmer gathers his harvest in A-Lubban Al-Gharbiyah.

The olive tree is a symbol of Palestinian resilience as old as time — its roots stretching deep into the land, some trees thousands of years old. Beyond its cultural and historical significance, the olive tree provides a vital source of income to over 80,000 families in the West Bank, anchoring livelihoods in a landscape dirtied by military occupation.

Trees in Kufr Malik.

Settler violence is known to escalate during this season, threatening families who gather to pick olives. Settlers are able to know exactly where and when Palestinians will be harvesting, leading to premeditated attacks.

A charred car sits in Jaloud, in the Nablus region, in the aftermath of a settler pogrom.

Settler violence is compounded by certain restrictions imposed by the Israeli military, making the harvest an even more difficult and uncertain undertaking. Under the military’s “coordination mechanism”, Palestinians can only access certain agricultural lands with prior approval — restrictions which ultimately deepen dependency on olives, as the low-maintenance crop is more practical than others under these constraints.

An Israeli warplane glimpsed through olive branches in a grove in Jaloud. Later that day, as I made my way home, I checked the news: 27 Palestinians had been killed in an airstrike in southern Gaza.

Even with coordination, safety is far from assured. On 18 October, Hanan Salameh, a 59-year-old Palestinian woman, was shot dead by Israeli soldiers while harvesting olives on her land in the village of Faqqua, near Jenin. Her tragic death is one among over 730 Palestinians killed in the West Bank since October 2023.

Animals killed during the pogrom. The day before we arrived to help with the olive harvest, dozens of settlers stormed the village, smashing windows, torching five vehicles, and wreaking havoc. We spoke with a local man, a Palestinian-American, whose animal pen was set ablaze after settlers slaughtered his sheep and chickens with knives. The attackers came from the nearby outpost of Esh Kodesh, which translates to "A Holy Fire".

Last year’s harvest was particularly devastating, with hundreds of incidents of settler violence, mass restrictions on land access, and entrenchment of the settler-soldier phenomenon that blurs the line between state and settler crimes. The financial toll on Palestinian farmers was staggering, with settler attacks and military suppression causing an estimated $10 million in losses. This deliberate economic sabotage aims to crush Palestinian self-sufficiency, forcing reliance on the Israeli state and reinforcing systemic oppression.

Adam Rabea, head of the Palestinian Territories department at Rabbis for Human Rights, perched high in a tree in Ja’aba. Located near the seam line, Palestinians were entirely barred from accessing their olive groves here last year.

My photos span from Ramallah to Jenin, Bethlehem, down to Jericho. The olive harvest, while a testament to Palestinian resilience, starkly illustrates the horrors of the occupation. The photos here offer but a glimpse of this struggle — a season marked by hope, tradition, and unyielding resistance against a relentless and brutal occupation. 

On the hills of As-Sawiye, the moon fades over a ladder used for reaching the highest olives.

These photos were taken during my work as a member of staff for the Israeli NGO, Rabbis for Human Rights. For over 20 years, they have been joining Palestinian farmers during the olive harvest, acting as a protective presence in the face of occupation.

Rabbis for Human Rights are joined by a range of people, from rabbis and rabbinical students to Israeli and international activists. Protective presence is one way in which Israeli and international activists can help in the face of settler violence and military suppression, leveraging their relative privilege to protect Palestinians.▼

A Haredi activist helps to pick olives in the Barkan industrial zone. The Palestinian owner of these trees is barred from entering his land unless he hires an armed security guard to accompany him. Industrial zones like this are a tool of land expropriation, converting Palestinian agricultural land into sites for Israeli economic expansion. Here, factories producing cheap wine now encircle the ancient olive groves.
A monk balances himself among the branches of an olive tree in Battir, Bethlehem region.

Jacob Lazarus is a photographer and filmmaker working on long-form documentary projects surrounding modes of resistance in Israel and Palestine.


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