As autumn nears, thousands of Palestinian farmers prepare not for prosperity, but for another season of dispossession.

The olive harvest—long a pillar of Palestinian heritage and the backbone of rural livelihoods—now unfolds under the shadow of escalating settler violence and tightening Israeli military restrictions.

In villages like Kufr Qaddum and Kifl Harris, farmers speak of sealed gates, lost harvests, and a vanishing way of life.

According to UN agencies, access to tens of thousands of dunums of olive groves has been blocked, with settler attacks reaching their highest levels in decades.

The destruction of farmland, coupled with the expansion of settlements, has pushed many to the brink. The UN’s human rights office warns these trends may amount to forcible transfer, while the International Court of Justice deems Israel’s continued occupation unlawful.

Despite international condemnation and modest support from organisations like the FAO, which promotes sustainable farming, Palestinian farmers remain locked out of their lands—sometimes literally.

Without meaningful intervention, the olive tree, once a symbol of peace and rooted identity, risks becoming a relic of a dispossessed people.