A viral video by Avichay Adraee, the Arabic-speaking spokesperson for the Israeli army, is astonishing. He claims that Lebanese farmers have crossed the border to participate in the olive harvest in Israel, even calling it “a sign of brotherhood,” while those farmers can’t even access their own lands. It seems surreal, especially since a few days earlier, he had ordered thousands of Lebanese farmers to leave their fields and forbade them from entering their olive groves “under threat of endangering their lives.”
In the border area in southern Lebanon, the olive harvest season— in full swing elsewhere in Lebanon—is a somber affair. Particularly famous for its ancient olive groves and agricultural heritage, the Hasbaya-Marjayoun region relies heavily on olive cultivation. Yet, its residents are left powerless in the face of severe restrictions preventing them from accessing their fields.
“The olive-picking season has already begun, and if a truce is not established, residents will lose their vital crops that sustain them through the coming year,” warns Ramzi, the owner of an olive grove in the Marjayoun plain. He cannot imagine going another year without harvesting his land.
The exchange of fire between the Israeli army and Hezbollah, which unilaterally opened the southern front on October 8, 2023, in support of Hamas, made olive harvesting difficult last autumn. “People are living off their reserves, limiting themselves to the bare minimum. The situation is very difficult. Olives are what feeds our families,” Ramzi adds.
With hands cracked from agricultural work and life’s hardships, 70-year-old Mariam clings to the hope of picking olives in her village of Deir Mimas, despite the escalation in Israeli raids. “Our olive groves are millennia-old. This is our heritage. Not being able to harvest them feels like losing a part of ourselves,” she laments.
The olive oil from this village, particularly the Darmmess brand, won the gold medal at the World Olive Oil Competition in April 2023, the world’s largest and most prestigious olive oil quality contest.
Harvesting olives each autumn is crucial for families. However, this year, the residents of Marjayoun face enormous economic losses, leaving their future deeply uncertain. “We’ve lost everything. Without these olives, I don’t know how I’ll feed my family,” confesses Samir, his voice trembling.
Rose, born in Deir Mimas and a registered olive and olive oil producer, echoes these concerns, noting that even essential maintenance work on the olive groves hasn’t been possible.
Covering an area of 8 square kilometers, Deir Mimas grows around 150,000 olive trees. “It’s the primary agricultural activity, representing the most important source of income for the inhabitants each year. Our olive trees are also our culture. The country is already bankrupt, and people are becoming increasingly impoverished,” Rose notes.
Alarming Economic Losses
Israeli airstrikes and ground combat have sparked fires in numerous olive groves, with the extent of the damage still unknown. “It’s the same for oil mills,” comments Walid, founder of a local oil mill.
In contrast to previous years, when a normal harvest would have generated significant revenue, this year’s losses are catastrophic, amounting to hundreds of thousands of dollars. In 2022, farmers harvested around 30,000 tons of olives, generating revenue of approximately $15 million. This year, forecasts indicate a near-zero harvest. “It’s the first time in 20 years that I haven’t been able to harvest my olives. I invested all my time and money into this land, and now, I don’t know how I’ll feed my family. We’re going through extraordinarily difficult times. This loss is unbearable,” says Khaled, underscoring the severity of the situation.
Abou Samir notes that this year’s harvest was expected to be abundant, providing much-needed relief to many families affected by Lebanon’s economic crisis since 2020. “But now we’re stuck in a cycle of debt and despair, unable to meet even our families’ basic needs. I believe I’ve lost nearly 10,000 liters of olive oil,” he adds.
In some areas like the village of Meriyeh in the Hasbaya district, yields have dropped from 120 liters per square meter to less than 20 liters. Although this village isn’t directly affected by raids, its lands lie in a conflict zone.
Many residents have already left due to the conflict. From a nearby mountain peak, smoke rises. Meriyeh’s surroundings have been constantly bombarded since October 8, 2023.
Hasbaya Is Spared but Still Impacted
The hands of Sheikh Nazih are stained green and black. He’s just returned from the fields, where he spent the afternoon picking olives.
Despite his warm smile and welcoming nature, Sheikh Nazih can’t hide his concerns. His lands are far from the combat zones, but the sounds of explosions are relentless. “When we’re in the fields, the bombing doesn’t stop. It’s frightening. We’re working tirelessly to finish the olive harvest as quickly as possible. Since it’s such a crucial source of income, regardless of the security situation, we won’t stop,” he continues.
Hasbaya is the only area in the border zone where villagers have been able to harvest their fields despite the tensions. Hezbollah has no presence there.
This region contains around 1.5 million olive trees, according to Rachid Zouayhed, head of the agricultural cooperative in Hasbaya. “Bombings or not, people have to harvest,” he explains.
In previous years, particularly 2021 and 2022, the area saw record production, with an average yield of 1,200 liters per hectare.
The border towns of southern Lebanon produce 5,000 of the 25,000 tons of olive oil produced annually in Lebanon. As a result, losses from the current bombings could impact up to a fifth of the national olive production.
Olive oil prices are also rising in the market, placing additional pressure on consumers. The harvest shortfall in the Marjayoun area leads to significant economic losses, as olives and olive oil are staple products in the region, prized for their quality and exported.
Towards a Solution?
Through UNIFIL, Lebanese authorities have reached out to Israeli authorities to allow Marjayoun residents—many of whom have taken refuge in Hasbaya—to access their lands, but no response has been received. Instead, the Israeli army spokesperson keeps repeating warnings. In some areas spared from the strikes, Syrian refugees who fled earlier have returned and, according to remaining residents, have been stealing crops.
“We promise that we will rise again. By preserving this ancestral heritage, we celebrate not only the fruit of the olive tree but also the enduring spirit of our community,” Rose asserts.
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