/ 4 October 2024

Powerful images of ancient trees show Palestinians’ loss

Olive Harvest Begins In Gaza Under Israeli Attacks
Palestinians harvest their crops at the start of the olive harvest in Deir al-Balah, Gaza under Israeli attacks on September 21, 2024. (Photo by Abed Rahim Khatib/Anadolu via Getty Images)

The Israeli authorities and illegal Jewish settlers under the supervision of the military have destroyed around 800 000 Palestinian olive trees since 1967.

These olive trees are central to Palestinian life, not just as a source of food and income, but as enduring symbols of community and resilience. 

Olive trees are of cultural, totemic and economic importance to the Palestinian community.

Their destruction represents more than economic loss — it is a cultural and historical wound. 

Berlin residents Adam Broomberg, a 53-year-old South African-Jewish artist, and Rafael Gonzalez, a 27-year-old German-Spanish photographer, have spent the past 18 months documenting the olive trees in the occupied territories of Palestine.

Their work, which is titled Anchor in the Landscape, is being showcased at the Fada gallery at the University of Johannesburg, offering a poignant window into a history of survival and struggle.

Broomberg described the profound experience of capturing these trees on film, telling the Mail & Guardian in October: “Some of these trees you know intimately because, to take one of these pictures, you must go up with a light meter. You have to touch the tree; you have to spend time with it because it takes an hour to take a picture.”

This process of careful observation and connection results in photographs that are as much portraits as they are landscapes. 

The black-and-white images of the olive trees stand majestic in the gallery space, offering a deeper understanding of the scale of loss that Palestinians have endured — whether the trees were cut down by Israeli forces or felled by Palestinians themselves to provide firewood for cooking or warmth during the occupation. 

Each photograph reflects not just what has been left behind but what has been forcibly taken — culture, survival and a deep connection to the land. 

Visitors are compelled to pause and reflect, drawn into the quiet, powerful testimony of these ancient trees.