In the open fields of the Jordan Valley and along the rocky slopes of South Hebron, Palestinian farmers are fighting to exist. Here, agriculture is a daily act of survival under an entrenched colonial system that deploys law, violence, and economic strangulation to sever people from their land.
Since October 2023, the West Bank has entered a new phase of intensifying dispossession. Nothing is arbitrary. Demolition orders are executed with bureaucratic precision, settler violence expands with full military protection, and vital resources, such as water, pasture, and mobility are cut off under the guise of “sovereignty.”
In a telling and unapologetic statement, Israeli Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich boasted a few days ago that 2024 marked a record year in demolitions of Palestinian homes and structures, celebrating it as a successful imposition of Israeli control over Area C. In such an openly hostile environment, the notion of development becomes absurd, and even basic stability feels out of reach.
This violence is not incidental, it is structural. Palestinian farmers are not seen as individuals violating regulations, but as geographical obstacles to be removed. In places like Wadi al-Seeq and Khan al-Ahmar, Bedouin and rural communities face methodical attacks: crops burned, wells poisoned, livestock stolen, and movement blocked. These are part of a deliberate strategy to create unlivable conditions and force displacement without a single official expulsion order.
On the economic front, agriculture is being choked. Israeli occupation controls 85% of the West Bank’s water resources, while Palestinians are denied permission to drill or maintain wells. According to World Bank data, Palestinian agricultural productivity has declined by at least 35% in the past six months.
In stark contrast, nearby Israeli agricultural settlements thrive with unrestricted access to water, infrastructure, and international markets, highlighting the stark inequality embedded in the land.
To view the Palestinian farmer solely as a symbol of resilience or nostalgia is to miss the point. Today, the farmer is the frontline defender of sovereignty, environmental justice, and the right to life itself. The struggle is not about a single harvest, it is about safeguarding the very possibility of continued Palestinian presence on the land, beyond the urban ghettos and fragmented enclaves.
