In Lebanese village near Israeli troops, farmers brave danger to harvest their olives

By Catherine Cartier, Emilie Madi and Raghed Waked

ZIBQIN, Lebanon Oct 29 (Reuters) – In a field overlooking a lush valley in southern Lebanon, residents of the village of Zibqin balanced on branches picking their olives while Lebanese Army soldiers stood nearby.

Zibqin is adjacent to Israel’s self-declared “security zone” in southern Lebanon, where Israeli troops have demolished dozens of villages, saying armed group Hezbollah had embedded itself in civilian infrastructure — a claim the group denies. Israeli shelling frequently strikes the valley below the olive groves despite a June ceasefire between the two sides.

As Palestinians, Israeli rights groups and the UN report increased violence and olive thefts by Israeli settlers in the Israeli-occupied West Bank, Lebanese farmers also fear for their safety, illustrating how conflict is again upending the annual harvest.

Despite the danger, Lebanese farmers are returning to fields they have tended for generations, determined to harvest a crop that is one of their main sources of income and nutrition.

Ali Bzieh, a 65-year-old farmer from Zibqin, said he had no choice but to come to the fields. “This is my land, this is my livelihood, this is a harvest we wait for from one year to the next,” he said, sitting under the branches of an olive tree. “We have an attachment to this land, to the plants, and to the crops — we don’t leave them.”

LIMITED PROTECTION 

Many families came back to Zibqin after the ceasefire between Israel and Iran-backed Hezbollah. But the situation remains unstable, Raef Bzieh, a local official, said. “The ongoing bombing and the aggressions taking place on the outskirts of the village have of course caused worry and panic among the people.”  

The danger prompted residents to ask the Lebanese Army to accompany them to their fields. But Mustafa Barakat, a 50-year-old carpenter, said that even with the army, the villagers did not feel safe. “But if the Israelis decide to cause harm, they can harm us, and the army,” he said. “They have struck the Lebanese Army more than once.”

Israeli attacks have killed 26 Lebanese soldiers in 2026, according to statements posted by the Lebanese Army on X. The Lebanese Army is not party to the conflict between Hezbollah and Israel.

In response to questions from Reuters, the Israeli military said its strikes in Lebanon are against Hezbollah and its infrastructure and are not directed at the Lebanese Army or civilians. It also said it is working to “enable the olive harvest and assist residents in carrying it out”.

Thirty-eight Israeli soldiers have been killed in southern Lebanon in 2026, according to posts on the Israeli military’s website. 

WAR CHANGES HARVEST’S RHYTHMS 

Barakat’s days in the olive grove used to start in the early morning and stretch until sunset. Now, he limits his time in the field to when the Lebanese Army is present. 

The danger has reshaped what was once an occasion for families to gather and share the hard work of harvesting olives.

“In the past, we used to treat this (harvest) season like an outing,” he said. He used to come with his family to the fields and prepare food together. “Now, you can’t bring children… bombing could occur, and they could get hurt,” he said. 

The conflict has affected the harvest in other ways too: “We weren’t able to tend to our olive trees, so our olive trees did not yield as they usually do,” said Ali, who was displaced for several months. He said the harvest was half what it normally was.

Ali said that he hoped the situation wouldn’t escalate further and force his family to flee again. But many in Zibqin were bracing for that possibility: some residents continue to pay rent for apartments in areas further north. Others have already reserved a place to stay in the event of further escalation. 

Yet as war casts its shadow over the harvest for the fourth consecutive year, the farmers refuse to abandon their fields. 

“This land is our identity, it is the passport we carry,” said Barakat. “If we abandon it, we are truly left without an identity.” 

(Reporting by Catherine Cartier, Emilie Madi, Raghed Waked; editing by Maya Gebeily and Sharon Singleton)