“In addition to their symbolic meaning, olives are a main source of income for around 80,000 Palestinian families. According to UN figures, around 48% of the agricultural land in the West Bank and Gaza is planted with olive trees. Olive trees account for 70% of fruit production in Palestine and contribute around 14% to the Palestinian economy. 93% of the olive harvest is used for olive oil production while the rest is used for olive soap, table olives and pickles. Much of the olive production is for local consumption with a small amount of olives being exported primarily to Jordan. With the growing interest in organic food and fair trade, Palestinian olives are now also reaching European and North American markets.”[1]
This summer I have attempted to start my very own garden, small and silly as it may be. It has become one of the most refreshing new beginnings in my life, with little tastes of real dreams that unravel deliciously with the seasons. I have learned and experienced much in regards to the way that healing can come from helping something grow and receiving from it, getting your hands dirty and cleansing your lungs with fresh air and exposing your skin to some vitamin D and summer rain. The muscle aches, deep sleeps, and energy that comes from the movements of care-taking. The self-reflection, meditation, prayer that flows so automatically as you talk to the weeds. The joy of the first tomato and the patience towards squirrels just being their annoying selves and the frustration of a pest and the labour of hauling soil. The soul being alive with its kin in the outdoors, away from the bright screens and plastic and the noise. The humility in the admission and submission to the elements, to that which is indeed greater than ourselves and our control.
That was just for me, as one.
The health benefits that come from bringing people together in that process is romanticized here yes, but truly proven to be beneficial to communities, cities that enter into hands-on engagement, relationship building, and lessons of learning to work, appreciate life, and one another. Of course, with the population sizes that we have, and many varying jobs and tasks in society to accomplish, large farms are wonderfully essential - yet there is something wonderful about the familial and communal dedication to harvest, that relies on the seasons, the weather, and traditions of memories together outside, working towards a collective goal.
This understanding of the individual and collective physical, mental, and spiritual health of being in our natural home is seen in the centuries-old traditions of the way of life in this region, and is still carried out by those Palestinians that can still farm their land, or choose to take the risk if it is dangerous in their area, or have been restricted access to their land (i.e. in a deemed “military zone” or settlement area, etc.)...
Olive harvesting is a family affair. The youngest children play and scatter around the olive groves all day while the rest pick the fruit from low to high. Hard work is rewarded by rests for shaey (black tea with maramija) or khawa (arabic coffee), and a picnic lunch under the canopy. From morning till evening the day is spent either talking and laughing amongst the process of picking, or ears tuned into the patter of olives falling on the tarps laid underneath to catch their fall, and the thunder of the leaves rustling in the breeze. Families argue and laugh around the trees that their ancestors have tended for centuries or longer... until now. With forced interruption and attack, they are not given the choice to give up this deep connection, and have little to no say in the matter. Yet they resist where they can...
For many of us urbanites, we cannot understand the depth of connection this land has on the identities of many Indigenous peoples.
For many of the Jewish people who desire these connections like those that came before them; stealing, burning, committing apartheid, and destroying not only a people group, but the blessed Olive trees themselves (a holy tree in their tradition as well), is not the answer. It is unexceptionable, not only according to the ancient scriptures, but by the verbal scripture that breathes out of the mouths of those calling for justice all over the world today. The voice of God rings true not just in one's interpretation of texts, but the Spirit that lives and is alive all around us, all through us.
"Israeli Settlers'Violence, Movement Restrictions Negatively Impact Olive Industry" [2]
Canada as a “peace-keeping” nation is a myth that is so entwined in the world of fiction I do not have the energy or room here to barely pick at it's knot. Not only has this government been complicit in this conflict, but also politically and financially supportive from the beginning (as they are and have been in many other conflicts and disasters worldwide - let alone within the country from its very birth).
One such example is seen in Israel, on a hilltop where three villages were previously nestled. One of these villages was called Imwas, and is known widely to be the village where, in the Christian tradition, Jesus reappeared to the disciples after he rose from the dead and walked with them to break bread before re-disappearing (called Emmaus in the New Testament) [Zochrot].
Another one of Israel's methods to take over the land was to plant forests over dispossessed and demolished villages where citizens were forced out of during the years of conflict (initially 1948-1967, but the demolitions, land-grab, and settlement building are rampant now more than ever). The tree was and is used as a weapon and strategy for land grab as former villages are literally flattened and planted into national parks, or the forests are planted on land reserved for future development. Israel confiscated and attempted to get rid of many Palestinian villages by literally erasing their existence with green life.
Canada Park was built with roughly $15 million given to support the State of Israel's mission in the Holy Land. The financial backing paid for the demolition of the village and the trees planted in its place. The only relic remaining at the park is right near the entrance: a mockery was made of the lives that were taken, as their cemetery is the only thing remaining of their existence, as if the park paid tribute to the still living by keeping a graveyard to show that they are seen as dead to Israel. Canada has been accused of being complicit in Ethnic Cleansing [Article Link].
The Sabra (cactus), the old method for building fences in Palestine, resists despite the attempts to get rid of them. They thrive, with the life-blood of the people who lived along-side them still flowing in their flowers and tough leaves.
Palestine is not erased.
As we walk around former Imwas, we mourn what the Sabra still stands for...
“And
I’m an olive tree, growing green in God’s house. I
trusted in the generous mercy of God then and now.” - Psalm 52:8
Tree as Life
An Olive tree has the most mysterious and wise look to it. With curling, thick roots that present themselves as old as they are, they instill a deep respect for those willing to look on their trunk with the wonder they demand. They are like a Grandmother's arms that you want to be bundled up into, and a Grandfather's smiling, wrinkled eyes and weathered, strong hands. Their steadfast gray roots stand so firmly in poor soil and tolerate seasons of drought. An Olive tree's trunk reaches purposefully with arms that produce thousands of little plump fruit, on thin stems with soft green leaves. When cut or burned down, the tree will remain alive, though will need four or five years to produce again. The life span of the Olive tree is centuries, and it is not unheard of for them to surpass 1000 years in age. The tree stands and is circled around during the cycles and seasons every year by those who tend to it and prune its branches, which is required for the bearing of fruit and the continuation of its life. The olives themselves have been compared by many cultures to joy, life, and healing, because of the properties and uses of the brilliant oil that is squeezed and beaten from the firm, smooth, oval fruit. The trees line the rolling hills of the Holy Land on terraces of rocks and weeds and red sand, carved around the natural landscape, creating pathways and shelves for people to take their place in the natural world, as they care fore, give, and receive from our earth.
“Israeli settlers burn 200 W. Bank olive trees”[1]
Word
“olive” is zayith, or “zaitun” meaning “an olive,” as
“yielding illuminating oil.” It's related to the word ziv,
meaning “to be prominent,” “brightness.” Ziv is the month of
flowers, corresponding to Iyar, or our April-May.
“Olive
trees burned as anti-Palestinian incitement grips Galilee” [2]
“You
shall sow, but not reap; you shall tread the olives, but not anoint
yourselves with oil” (Micah 6:15).
Reaping
and Raping what we Sow: Ready, Aim, Fire
“'A group of settlers from the Yitzhar settlement located near Huwara town in Nablus set fire to the town's olive fields, causing the destruction of 100 trees,' Ghassan Daghlas, the Palestinian Authority official in charge of the settlements file in the northern West Bank, told Anadolu Agency.
Attacks on the fall harvest are a key way that Palestinians are forced out of their homes and their lands confiscated for settlement construction, as the loss of a year's crop can signal destitution for farmers with no other way to support themselves.” [3]
The
farming land near the village that I work in, Deir Istiya, is an
extensive valley called the Wadi Qana [4]. Despite the
overwhelming efforts of locals, NGOs, and internationals, the
village lost the Wadi Qana to the settlements that built themselves
quickly along the hilltops, making the valley too dangerous to
harvest in. This harvest season, only 1 out of 40 families with land inside the beautiful, fertile Wadi Qana is harvesting (each family/farmer will often
have hundreds of trees in their family). The reason for this is because the risks are high for
farmers, who too often experience attacks from settlers; either
directly, or indirectly, as burning, cutting, and uprooting trees
and crops are just one of the many ways that settlers not only
terrorize Palestinians, but confiscate land (in addition to the many
other tactics that Israel uses to annex vast amounts of land [5]).
In the region where we (International Women's Peace Service) work, there are 19 Palestinian villages. Now, in the same region, there are 23 settlements in the same area, having built entirely on stolen land, and persistently expanding. Above, the settlement of Havot Yair. Below, the town of Deir Istiya, where we live and work out of.
Another way that Israel confiscates land (for the record, they do not ask, nor provide any sort of compensation - not that that would make theft and human rights violations okay!), is by mis-using and implementing an old law from the Ottoman empire. The law was that if land lay fallow for three years, it would be declared "state land," but this is not only a warped version of a law in a different circumstance and time, but Israel fences off large portions of people's lands and then takes it after three years, under this law, even though Palestinians had no choice but to be cut off from it. On top of losing the land, the olive trees on some of this land need to be tended to, otherwise they become fruitless... [7]
Even
in the Jewish law of war:
"When
you besiege a city for many days to wage war against it to capture
it, you
shall not destroy its trees by
wielding an ax against them, for you may eat from them, but you
shall not cut them down" Deuteronomy
20:19
UNOCHA (UN Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs:
- Nearly half (48%) of the agricultural land in the oPt is planted with 8 million ollive trees; the vast majorty are in the West Bank.
- The olive oil industry makes of 14% of the agricultural income for the oPt and supports the livelihoods of approximately 80,000 families.
- The number of Barrier gates increased to 73 in 2012 but the majority (52) are closed year round, except for the olive harvest period and only then for limited hours.
- In 2011, 42% of applications for permits to access olive groves behind the Barrier submitted prior to the harvest season were rejected, compared to 39% in 2010.
- In the West Bank, over 7,500 olive trees belonging to Palestinians were damaged or destroyed by Israeli settlers between January and mid October 2012 , some 2000 fewer than during the equivalent period in 2011.
- Only one of the 162 complaints regarding settler attacks against Palestinian trees monitored by the Israeli NGO Yesh Din since 2005 has so far led to the indictment of suspect.
- In the Gaza Strip, 7300 dunums of land along the perimeter fence with Israel that were previously planted with olive trees have been leveled during Israeli military operations.
"Israel Seizes 20 Dunams Near Salfit" [6]
Peace
“He
waited seven more days and sent out the dove again. It came back in
the evening with a freshly picked olive leaf in its beak. Noah knew
that the flood was about finished.” Genesis 8:11
To
use a tree as a weapon is a mockery of life; it is a bold and cowardly form of
conflict, it is an abuse of the natural world that is already
turning on the human population that has too long abused it.
Will
we respect and care for our fellow natural habitats? Or force them
into a tool for war between ourselves, our own human brothers and
sisters?
Treat
the earth well. It was not given to you by your parents, it was
loaned to you by your children. We do not inherit the Earth from
our Ancestors, we borrow it from our Children.
This summer I have attempted to start my very own garden, small and silly as it may be. It has become one of the most refreshing new beginnings in my life, with little tastes of real dreams that unravel deliciously with the seasons. I have learned and experienced much in regards to the way that healing can come from helping something grow and receiving from it, getting your hands dirty and cleansing your lungs with fresh air and exposing your skin to some vitamin D and summer rain. The muscle aches, deep sleeps, and energy that comes from the movements of care-taking. The self-reflection, meditation, prayer that flows so automatically as you talk to the weeds. The joy of the first tomato and the patience towards squirrels just being their annoying selves and the frustration of a pest and the labour of hauling soil. The soul being alive with its kin in the outdoors, away from the bright screens and plastic and the noise. The humility in the admission and submission to the elements, to that which is indeed greater than ourselves and our control.
That was just for me, as one.
Olive harvesting is a family affair. The youngest children play and scatter around the olive groves all day while the rest pick the fruit from low to high. Hard work is rewarded by rests for shaey (black tea with maramija) or khawa (arabic coffee), and a picnic lunch under the canopy. From morning till evening the day is spent either talking and laughing amongst the process of picking, or ears tuned into the patter of olives falling on the tarps laid underneath to catch their fall, and the thunder of the leaves rustling in the breeze. Families argue and laugh around the trees that their ancestors have tended for centuries or longer... until now. With forced interruption and attack, they are not given the choice to give up this deep connection, and have little to no say in the matter. Yet they resist where they can... 
