Settlers affect olive harvest in Huwarra

On Friday and Saturday I accompanied a family from Huwarra village in the Nablus municipality to harvest their olives on the hill under Yizhar settlement. Sabeh’s family has not been able to harvest their trees for at least 5 years, due to violence from Israeli settlers and problems from soldiers. I accompanied him and his son and daughters along with another ISM activist and on one day some Israeli volunteers as well. By the way they interact it is clear that Sabeh loves his children a lot and the family enjoys spending time together with their trees.

Because he has been unable to access this land for so long, Sabeh’s 13 to 50-year old trees are overgrown at the bottom and difficult to access without cutting off the scratchy, dead branches. Some look more like bushes than trees, and our hands and arms are all scratched up. The children asked why the trees were so ugly and if they could return to the grove every day as they used to, but at this point is it difficult for him to make it to the trees even once per week. We only rarely encountered large, healthy olives and so we discussed how the years of inaccessibility have harmed the overall results. This is an all too common problem in the Nablus region, with violence or denied access from settlers or soldiers negatively affecting the farmers’ yields.



The grove is situated on the hill under Yizhar settlement, in a vulnerable position near a tent that settlers use as an outpost, and only 150 meters from the nearest settler houses. The hill overlooks Huwarra village and the checkpoint south of Nablus that it is named after, as well as villages and settlements on surrounding hills. It is both a gorgeous and disturbing view.

On Friday during the lunch break we observed soldiers patrolling the top of the hill for at least an hour, and other figures standing around the tent, possible settlers. I walked with the other volunteers to a clearing and watched them for a while, ensuring that our presence was also noticed. I returned at night glad that we hadn’t had any problems and that the day had gone easily for everyone. A friend reminded me that this was probably the case because of our presence, but didn’t know if I could be so sure. The next day I realized that you never know for sure until something happens when you’re not there.

On Saturday the group moved a bit farther down the hill to harvest, not as close to the settlement. Partway through the day we encountered a couple of families rushing to leave. They had been working above us at the top of the hill, when a few settlers came at them with guns pointed, shouting to go away. They quickly left, but the family I was with decided to stay, although we all began to work twice as fast after that incident and glanced up the hill every few minutes.



Around 3pm it was announced from the Mosque that the water in the village of Huwarra has been shut off, due to a lack of funds to pay the water bill. The family we worked with noted this quickly and then continued to pick olives, like it was a common occurrence or not surprising to them.

By the end of the day we hadn’t forgotten about the armed settlers, but everyone laughed and joked as we neared the end of the picking. Aside from the threats to families working without international and Israeli volunteers, these 2 days of harvesting were a success, and this family’s ability to take care of their trees will allow for higher quality olives next year.