Olive Oil Production

Mention the Holy Land and you speak of olive trees in the same breath. They are a feature of the landscape; there is the symbolic link with the branch of peace; there is the use of olive wood in carving; and olives are a vital part of the economy for so many people. Look at the olive groves as they have been planted in their ordered patterns, and think of the tending and caring, and then comes the harvest. But what then?

Walking to the centre of Beit Jala I had often passed a building set back from the road, behind tall iron gates which were sometimes open and sometimes closed. Here were the premises of the Bethlehem District Cooperative Society for pressing olives, and I decided that it was time for me to find out more about this.

Established in 1964, here is a community enterprise that has provided a valuable service for 40 years. The olive harvest from the growers, irrespective of the size of their crop, can be processed in an efficient way. The membership of the cooperative stands at around 900, but locally something in the area of 3,000 people are employed in olive production. The running of the enterprise is in the hands of an elected board of about a dozen unpaid volunteers.

All this sounds like a success story, and it was, but things are becoming more difficult. There has been a lot written about the difficulty that some growers experience harvesting their crop. But what about moving the harvest from the trees to the presses? As a result of the restrictions in movement, and the redrawing of the boundaries of Greater Jerusalem, fewer members from the surrounding villages now feel that they can use the Cooperative. Then there is the Wall of Separation, which has eaten into thousands of acres of trees, not simply for the Wall but for the accompanying security roads, etc. – all on Palestinian land. The Wall seems to have a huge appetite for olives. Elias Matar, the Chairman of the Board, tells me, “The West Bank is a big jail, but Bethlehem is a small jail within it.” We so often think of the way in which travel restrictions at checkpoints etc. are violations of human rights, but the economic impact receives less publicity.

This year the olive harvest was good; but the local price for oil has roughly halved. Too much of the harvest remains unsold. The quality of the oil here is good, and logic cries out for a marketing and export strategy. But the Israeli structures make this very difficult, and any exports would normally go through Israeli channels. Again, strategies need to be worked out on a wider basis than this Bethlehem cooperative, because in the field of exporting and marketing we are into issues of quality control, and the restrictions within the occupation framework make this almost impossible. Alternative uses of olive oil would be helpful; indeed there was a soap factory, but this closed 15 years ago, with the difficulty of obtaining all the necessary ingredients for soap manufacture and problems with marketing being two major problems.

The maintenance of machinery is another hurdle which has to be faced. The plant is manufactured by an Italian firm, Rapanelli. It, in turn, has an agent in Tel Aviv. But when a spare part was needed at the start of this year’s olive harvest, there was a wait of 15 days before this arrived. Without the travel restrictions only a day would have been lost. More spare parts could be carried, but, of course, this ties up more precious capital.

All this speaks of the difficulties; but it is important to record the signs of hope. In a building behind the pressing plant you will find an assortment of young trees ready for planting – olives, apricots, and figs. And next year additional plants will be available – trees that once flourished here are being reintroduced; for example, blackthorn and oak. Amazingly the members of the Board have a remarkable faith in the future. Hopefully this points to a growing economy.

I followed the story a step further at PARC, the Palestinian Agricultural Relief Committee. This was not a chat in the office but a visit to some of the most sensitive areas west of Bethlehem. There the line of the Wall seems so contorted to take account of the various illegal settlements and the roads that they spawn. In this area, the farming of some land in recent years has become difficult and will soon be nigh impossible. Jamal Abu Malek from PARC took me above Beit Jala where we looked across a panoramic view and saw a crucial agricultural road which would shortly be closed. Then we moved on past a hill where one settler is given 24/7 “protection” by the Israeli army, and on a short distance to where PARC and the local farmers had rebuilt a stretch of terracing on a steep hillside. The army had given no protection when there was harassment from the local settlers, and indeed had been obstructive when the working group had tried to improve the access to this reconstructed terracing.

A farmer and his son were in what seemed to me to be mountain goat country, working to complete a cistern that they had built on a steep hillside and which would give them a controlled water supply. Olive trees may be modest in their drinking habits compared to many crops but water is vital in agriculture, and the farmers feel that so much has been stolen from them.

So on to the village of Nahhalin. Soon we were in a gathering of farmers, who had formed a committee. They were patient as I asked elementary questions about the processing of olives. Yes, it was true that they could not get their olives the few miles to Bethlehem and had had to make other arrangements. Some farmers had just sufficient olives to produce oil for their own extended families. Some had a surplus, but one man said that when all the costs were taken into account, selling olive oil now could be at a loss rather than a profit. Five years ago the price was 80 Jordanian dinars for a tank of olive oil; this year it was 30. At that price it was better to adjust the family diet so that it was used at home. The high local unemployment rate did nothing to help sales: if people had no money how could they pay top prices?

Then we turned to the issue of harassment, and the stories came tumbling out. One farmer had lost 25 trees; there was an account of 250 trees that the settlers had taken out, and then we were told of 150 very mature trees that another farmer had had uprooted.

But it wasn’t long before we were back to the problem of access to land and agricultural roads. There was the bizarre account of tractors being “jailed,” and I thought of the story that I had just written about the Al Walaja bus being impounded next to the Gilo checkpoint. One farmer in the meeting spoke of how he had been working with an NGO to make a road with a bulldozer, and the Border Police had put it in the compound for 30 days. He had had to pay a 3,500-shekel fine (over £400), and sign an undertaking that he would not repeat the offence (if he did, the fine would be 500,000 shekels).

Then there was the road that was closed during the first Intifada, and was never reopened – the transport that is required for the olives has to be provided by donkeys.

But the real story of persistence is the “opening” of three kilometres of roadway. Fifteen to 20 workers laboured each night with shovels for a month. The “roadway” is still open – it cannot be used by cars or tractors for fear of these being impounded, but at least it is easier for the donkey trail.

As always in Palestinian society I had been received with the utmost courtesy. But I left with the feeling that although the price of olive oil in this area is so low, it is time that we recognised that the cost that is being paid to produce it by some of the people whom I had met was far too high.