
What’s the most iconic symbol of peace? Chances are you immediately thought of the dove and olive branch. Doves were long ago exposed as white pigeons – not particularly peaceful or gentle birds, if the truth be known. And olive trees have lately been at the heart of the conflict in between Israel and its neighbors.
It would only be stretching the truth a little to claim that olive trees are the equivalent for most traditional agriculturalists in this part of the Middle East and of buffalo for Native Americans or yaks for Tibetans. To my knowledge, no one’s ever worn any part of the olive tree, but olive oil is an important source of fat in a cuisine that’s heavy on vegetables, legumes and grains. It was burned for light, is still used in soap and cosmetics, and it’s valued for its medicinal properties. Olive trees are precious property, passed down through generations. A family might sell its land but still retain rights to the olive trees on it, returning year after year to harvest the fruit.
It’s no surprise, then, that the “olive battles” on the West Bank have been particularly contentious. The army was among the first to uproot trees, claiming that terrorists hid behind them. Further trees were destroyed to make way for roads and the security fence. Within Israel proper, olive trees that stand in the way of such “progress” are often replanted elsewhere, but this consideration was not extended to the owners of trees on the far side of the green line. The most recent to destroy and damage olive trees have been a small group of belligerent Jewish settlers, who have not only uprooted and damaged trees in their battles against their Palestinian neighbors, but physically prevented the tree’s owners from harvesting their olives.
As one who’s seen the precarious side of agriculture up close, my heart goes out to farmers who have had their livelihood stolen from them, for little reason. And as a life-long tree-hugger, it hurts to see beautiful living things, which give us so much more than food, destroyed. If we want to run around killing and maiming each other, that’s one thing, but must we drag innocent trees into our wars?
The tiny shining light in this story is that I’m not alone. A coalition of kibbutzniks, rabbis and other concerned Israeli Jews called the Olive Tree Movement has been actively opposing this phenomenon in the past few years. They have gone out to the West Bank to replant trees, and during the olive harvest they come in carloads to help with the picking and try to prevent the violence.
Next: Olives on the kibbutz
