Meira Asher

The olive harvest in the West Bank is taking place under a constant Israeli land grab, restrictions on access to the plots, settlers attacks on harvesters, and vandalisation of olive trees. Akef Jum’aa is from the village of Qaddum. His Testimony is similar to incidents which I have witnessed.

Akef: You are on the lands of Qaddum village. The village belongs to the Qalqiliya District. Qaddum is famous for its olive trees and agriculture, with territory of 25,000 dunams

We have 11,000 dunams from which the Israeli Army (IDF) prevents us reaching unless it is coordinated with them.

Israel claims that these lands are in Area C.

We say to the Israeli army and occupation that there is no Area C or Area A. All these lands are Palestinian lands, and the lands of Qaddum village.

This means that all the work the IDF does is purely to prevent us from reaching our land because of some Israeli settlers, and we do not even know where they came from. They are the ones who came to us here. We are the locals and they are the guests.

 

Soldier: “You didn’t understand what I said?!”

Gil: “I am not a soldier, you are a soldier…”

 

Poem (Mahmoud Darwish):

The olive tree does not weep and does not laugh. The olive tree

Is the hillside’s modest female. Shadow

Covers her one leg, and she will not take her leaves off in front of the storm.

Standing, she is seated, and seated, standing.

 

Akef: Qaddum is a good village and the people are kind. There were no problems between the residents and the IDF. There was no problem with the IDF. For example, there was never a big act against the IDF. It is the IDF who now come to us and cause us problems just because of these settlers.

Soldier: “I repeat and say!”

Gil: “But why is it forbidden to work here?”

 

Poem:

She lives as a friendly sister of eternity, neighbour of time

That helps her stock her luminous oil and

Forget the invaders’ names, except the Romans, who

Coexisted with her, and borrowed some of her branches

To weave wreaths.

 

Akef: The source of our problem in the village with the IDF is that it has an army base here. And when they conquered us in 1967, the Jordanian army left and the Israeli army came in its place. Now the Israeli army began to fix security zones, determined places that should not be entered, and then brought us the settlers. The settlers are cowardly people. Wherever the IDF is, there they build their settlement, so the army will guard them.

 

Poem:

They did not treat her as a prisoner of war

But as a venerable grandmother, before whose calm dignity

Swords shatter. In her reticent silver-green

Colour hesitates to say what it thinks, and to look at what is behind

The portrait, for the olive tree is neither green nor silver.

 

Akef: We convey our message to the Israeli people, I have no problem with the Israeli people. We are convinced that we must live side by side. And just as they built a country, so do we deserve our country. Because we are a nation, like them. What is the problem between us and them? They will live and we will also live, but that means that every nation has its own state. And we will be friends.

Soldier: “You hear? man, first of all let‫׳s fold and then talk, okay?”

Gil: “ I didn’t understand why we have to fold”

Soldier: “It is forbidden to work here now‫! it is forbidden to work!”

Gil: “But why is it forbidden to work here?”

 

‪Poem:

The olive tree is the colour of peace, if peace needed

A colour. No one says to the olive tree: How beautiful you are!

But: How noble and how splendid! And she,

She who teaches soldiers to lay down their rifles

And re-educates them in tenderness and humility: Go home

And light your lamps with my oil!

 

Akef: You see the land. Soil needs work. It needs ploughing, the olive trees need upkeep. All this the Jews are preventing us from doing. This year we were unable to reach our lands. And you see the earth. Nobody can work here because of its condition. Now, a match can burn all this land and leave nothing.

They say: We give you eight days to finish your work on the land. How can I finish the job in 8 days?

Secondly, there are no workers. Everybody in Qaddum has land and he works there. So where will I get workers from? Where? Should I import workers from Europe?

Now, after eight days, we have to leave the olives on the trees and it's raining so we can't work and so we lose the soil. This is always the case.

 

Poem:

But

These soldiers, these modern soldiers

Besiege her with bulldozers and uproot her from her lineage

Of earth. They vanquished our grandmother who foundered,

Her branches on the ground, her roots in the sky.

 

Akef: One of the settlers came. He came to me and my little children. We were me, my little grandchildren and my wife, just us. Do you understand me? This is the first day. I came here and the settler came and said: What are you doing? I answered: I am working. I was picking olives to make pickles rather than picking in the harvest. He took my ID from me and went to check it. A settler took my ID!?

Then he called the army, and the army came, he gave them my ID and went. The army remained. The soldier told me not to pick olives. I said to him: Listen to me, don't tell me  what is forbidden and whatever you want, I want to pick olives. That's it, my head closes here. I came to pick olives, I want to make pickles. The bucket was half full. After a short while a jeep with three or four soldiers arrived. If you saw the kids, how they went crazy. The kids were crying and my wife was yelling and then they were holding me from here and taking me off the ground.

 

Poem:

She did not weep or cry out.  But one of her grandsons

Who witnessed the execution threw a stone

At a soldier, and he was martyred with her.

 

Akef: They took me to the gate. I sat on the ground, they took my phone and took other things, and told me: You have two choices: to go home or go to jail. I said: I tell you that because of what you did to the children, I want to go to jail. I want to go to the police and complain about you. The soldier told me there was no police. “There is no police where you can complain about me.” I told him: no way that I will go home today. I want to come to jail with you to complain about you because you scared the kids. And you came and hit me in front of the kids.

And he said to me: How about an agreement? I told him yes, lets hear your agreement. I don't want to go back, that's it. The soldier said to me: What do you want? I told him, "I want to fill a bucket." He said to

me: We will stay with you and wait until you fill it.

You see, the woman and the children ran away. Then I filled the bucket. Later, guys from the village came when they heard I had a problem. They came quickly and took me away. The next day I decided to go pick olives. I called a friend, activist, who came with his friends. About seven of them. On this day we started harvesting. The army arrived but could not evacuate them. I was also told to leave and I told them: I will not return even if Netanyahu himself comes here. I will not return home. I'll stay here. On that day the soldiers brought a closed military zone order and forced us to leave.

Soldier: “You didn’t understand what I said?!”

Gil: “I am not a soldier, you are a soldier…”

 

Poem:

After the victorious soldiers

Had gone on their way, we buried him there, in that deep

Pit – the grandmother’s cradle. And that is why we were

Sure that he would become, in a little while, an olive

Tree – a thorny olive tree – and green!