Defending the Olive Harvest
Standing with Palestinian communities holding on to the land against all odds.
I shall carve the record of all my sufferings, and all my secrets… On an olive tree, in the courtyard, of the house... I shall carve the number of each deed of our usurped land… The demolished houses of its people, my uprooted trees ... And to remember it all, I shall continue to carve all the chapters of my tragedy, and all the stages of the disaster, from beginning to end… On the olive tree, in the courtyard, of the house.—Tawfiq Zayyad
The olive harvest is a cornerstone of Palestinian culture, economy and agriculture. The harvest is also powerful symbol of holding on to the land against all odds. For this reason, Israel regularly wages war on the harvest through its military and settler militias. Last year was the worst harvest season ever recorded. The majority of farmers could not harvest at all, and those who tried were attacked. At least one person was murdered. Israeli violence has only grown since.
In recent years, Faz3a has concentrated their efforts in organizing grassroots Palestinian support for threatened communities and individuals during the harvest, mixing movement-building with mutual aid to defend their communities and defy colonial rule.
With the escalation of Israeli violence, communities in the West Bank are now calling on Internationals to join hands with Palestinian activists in the effort to support and protect the harvest. The presence of Internationals on the ground provides an essential buffer from Israeli aggression, while strengthening Palestinian organizing and mobilization.
This year’s olive harvest will take place between Oct 10 and Nov 15.
When I first heard of the destruction of Palestinian olive orchards my heart was broken. I was a teenager then, and could not understand it. Even back then I understood that humans have a capacity for violence and horror, I knew about hate. But why destroy orchards, ancient orchards? For thousands of years those orchards stood. I did not understand why Israelis, my fellow Jews, would do such a thing. We who have told of our woe when our orchards were destroyed in antiquity. We who tell of traveling 8 days for more olive oil to light our sacred flame. It didn’t make sense.
Well, as I learned more over the years about genocide in all its forms, I came to understand that those orchards were the proof of who had tended the land and loved it and protected it. Those trees and their fruit sustained Palestinian communities since before recorded history. The olive trees do not forget, those trees are a testament to the love the Palestinian people have for their land. Those trees are history, community, sustenance.
“If the Olive Trees knew the hands that planted them, their oil would become tears”– Mahmoud Darwish
I grew up on stories and histories from the land between the river and the sea. I was told of a time when regardless of ethnicity, or religion, the people lived together as communities. The land between the river and the sea is a place of beauty, a place of abundance and of deserts, of dead seas and blue waters. Olive and other fruit trees grow in orchards older than time. The people are generous and kind, with a strong commitment to hospitality, especially to the stranger.
In the early days of this horror, I felt helpless, and alone in my grief. I felt as if I should be doing more. In truth, I felt as if I should be there, in the land between the river and the sea. I don’t know what I thought I could do, I wouldn’t be permitted to enter Gaza to help in anyway. Could I fight the atrocities from inside Israel? I am Jewish, I do have family there, but I am an outsider there, a soft western Jew, no one in Israeli society would listen to me.
I sat there glued to the news, feeling more helpless every minute. Every day that passed, more lives taken, more children whose laughter would never be heard again. One atrocity after another, relentless and brutal. I will be honest with you, it almost broke me beyond repair, I am not sure that it hasn’t. I do know, that life will never be the same.
It’s been almost a year since then and it’s gotten far worse in Palestine… It’s been almost a year, and I still feel helpless… It’s been almost a year, and still I need to be there… I am working on that, in the meantime I’ll be supporting this effort from where I am.
For more info and to find out how you can get involved, see: palsolidarity.org and defendpalestine.org/join
Until next time, stay curious, keep questioning, and don’t stop demanding change!
“Another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing.” — Arundhati Roy
Further reading:
Israel’s Campaign Against Palestinian Olive Trees
Palestinian Olive Trees Under Attack
Olive Trees – More Than Just a Tree in Palestine
Uprooting Identities: The Regulation of Olive Trees in the Occupied West Bank
It's hard to process just how evil the system is that allows for genocide, and tells us that objecting to it is wrong.
Thanks for posting, Jesse. My heart is broken too.
And now it's olive trees - everything assaulted......