In the rolling hills of the occupied West Bank, what should be a season of hope and harvest has become a time of fear and hardship for Palestinian olive farmers. The olive tree, a symbol of peace and a pillar of Palestinian livelihood for generations, is now at the center of escalating violence and destruction. As the 2025 olive harvest season unfolds, reports from local organizations, international observers, and Palestinian officials paint a grim picture of relentless attacks, widespread property damage, and deepening despair.
According to data compiled by Rabbis for Human Rights and cited in their November 6, 2025 report, the olive harvest season began several weeks ago, continuing a tradition that stretches back thousands of years. Yet, this year, the ancient practice faces unprecedented threats. The organization’s Executive Director, Avi Dabush, did not mince words: “The olive harvest for many Palestinian families is currently under continuous and deliberate attack.” He described efforts “to disconnect Palestinian communities from their land by burning fields, uprooting trees, and attacking farmers.”
These warnings are not merely rhetorical. Facts and figures from multiple sources converge on a troubling reality. The Wall and Settlement Resistance Commission, whose findings were published by SadaNews on November 7, 2025, documented a staggering 340 attacks against olive pickers by the Israeli army and settlers since the season began in early October. The commission’s head, Muayad Shaaban, detailed that their teams monitored 620 cases of aggression by the army and 278 by settlers. The assaults ranged from violent physical attacks and arrest campaigns to movement restrictions, intimidation, and even direct gunfire, as witnessed in Tubas Governorate.
The violence is not evenly distributed. The highest number of assaults was recorded in Ramallah Governorate (107 cases), followed by Nablus (94 cases) and Hebron (38 cases). Shaaban’s commission also noted 92 cases of movement restrictions and terrorization of olive pickers, alongside 59 incidents of beatings and physical assaults against farmers. The escalation has coincided with the ongoing broader conflict in the region, which, according to Shaaban, has made this season “the hardest and most dangerous in recent decades.” He attributes this to wartime policies that empower aggression, such as the declaration of closed military areas, the arming of settler militias, and a lack of accountability for perpetrators.
The destruction of olive trees—a symbol as much as a source of sustenance—has reached alarming levels. DW reported that over 4,000 olive trees have been destroyed during the current harvest season. SadaNews added that 125 violent incidents specifically targeted olive-planted lands, with 170 cases of cutting, breaking, or uprooting trees, resulting in the loss of at least 1,200 olive trees. These numbers, though harrowing, are not isolated. Data from the previous 2024 harvest season, as recorded by Rabbis for Human Rights, showed 1,400 violent incidents affecting people, property, and agricultural land, while OCHA registered 162 specific episodes of violence, including the destruction of thousands of olive trees and direct assaults on farmers.
For many Palestinian families, the olive harvest is more than an economic activity—it is a cultural touchstone, a family tradition, and a declaration of presence on the land. Yet, as DW’s reporting makes clear, this season has been marked by “waves of attacks—burning trees, seizing land, and leaving over a hundred injured.” The farmers, however, are not giving up. They continue to return to their groves, determined to maintain their connection to the land and their heritage, even as violence and intimidation mount.
Against this backdrop, civil society organizations have stepped in to offer protection and solidarity. Rabbis for Human Rights has led a volunteer initiative for over two decades, physically accompanying Palestinian farmers during the harvest and documenting acts of violence. In 2024, the organization mobilized more than 1,000 volunteers who worked in over 30 villages, providing what Dabush describes as “a clear presence of solidarity, justice, and hope in the face of harassment.” For the current 2025 season, the organization is expanding its efforts to reach even more communities. Dabush explained, “We made a decision to expand our activity this year to reach additional Palestinian communities and prevent attempts at harm and dispossession, as part of a human rights strategy of protective presence.”
These volunteers do more than just stand guard. They assist with the agricultural work, share meals with farmers, and stand ready to intervene should violence erupt. Dabush’s call to action is clear: “Your presence in the field can be the difference between burned and destroyed agricultural land—and a flourishing, thriving olive grove.” The organization, founded in 1988, brings together more than 170 Israeli rabbis and rabbinical students, united by a commitment to human rights rooted in Jewish ethical tradition. “We act not only out of a commitment to international human rights conventions, but also to the values of humanistic Jewish culture,” Dabush said. He emphasized the importance of a Judaism “that sees the individual, the stranger, and the vulnerable,” contrasting it with more nationalist or exclusionary strands.
For many, the situation feels increasingly dire. Shaaban of the Wall and Settlement Resistance Commission characterized the current season as a clear escalation in “the terrorist targeting of the Palestinian olive season.” He cited a pattern of rising attacks, from 136 in 2022 to 333 in 2023, 407 in 2024, and 340 already recorded in 2025 by early November. “This unequivocally illustrates the scale of targeting faced by Palestinian farmers,” he asserted, urging the international community to move beyond slogans and take real action to protect Palestinian people and resources.
The broader context is one of deepening polarization and impunity. The commission’s findings suggest that wartime conditions and official policies have emboldened both the army and settlers, with measures such as closing off governorates and arming militias while exempting them from prosecution. The result, according to DW, is a harvest season marked by “violence and despair,” with Palestinian farmers left to wonder if justice will ever prevail or if their struggle will be buried by silence.
Yet, amid the hardship, voices like Dabush’s offer a glimmer of hope. “Every volunteer who chooses to come to the groves and prevent violence continues to realize the Jewish vision of human freedom,” he said, invoking the biblical call to “love the stranger.” For the farmers, the volunteers, and those who document and resist the violence, the olive tree remains a living symbol—not just of what has been lost, but of what might still be saved.
