On October 14, Musa Bani Shamsa and his 17-year-old son arrived at their olive grove in Beita, southeast of Nablus, to find it empty. A group of masked Israeli men carrying pistols, knives, pipes, sticks and a hammer surrounded them, Shamsa told Al Jazeera. The beating lasted at least 20 minutes, leaving Shamsa with bruises and stab wounds. “They thought we were dead, so they left us,” he said. Three days later, his son was still unable to speak from shock.
The attack is part of a broader trend. Settler violence has risen sharply, with more beatings, arson and livestock theft. Farmers have adapted by harvesting at dawn, blocking roads, and keeping watch from rooftops. Some return to harvest by phone light at night, but these precautions offer little protection. “Every time we give up a little, they take a little more,” Shamsa said.
At the centre of the expansion are Israeli outposts, described by cartographer Khalil Tafakji as “the offspring of the mother settlements”. Positioned to link existing settlements, they extend Israeli control. While illegal under international law and unauthorised under Israeli law until government approval, many receive state support before formal recognition. In 2024, settlers established 62 new outposts, backed by 75 million shekels ($20m) in government funding, according to Peace Now. The government also retroactively legalises outposts: in March, Israel’s security cabinet approved 34 new settlements, including 10 existing outposts.
In Beita, residents say three smaller outposts have emerged around the recently authorised Evyatar settlement. Settlers initially draw power from nearby Palestinian lines, with the electricity company connecting them later. Violence is used to force families off their land. In March, 10 masked men attacked a family and threatened to kill them if they did not leave; they fled. Another home was emptied in June, and a third has had its electricity and water cut off since early October.
Palestinians say they have no recourse. The Israeli army protects settlers, and criminal complaints rarely lead to indictments: 94 percent of police investigations into settler violence between 2005 and 2023 were closed without charges, according to Yesh Din. Shamsa asked, “Who are we supposed to complain to? Complain to the one oppressing you?” Al Jazeera reached out to the Israeli military for comment but has yet to receive a response.
Legal mechanisms also facilitate land seizure. Under an Ottoman-era law, land left uncultivated for several years can be declared state property. Tafakji said this provision is used to establish settlements. Even Palestinians with title deeds who win in court may find their land turned into a military zone. Shamsa fears that if violence forces farmers to abandon their groves, Israel could claim the land as state property. “If I abandon [the land] for a few years, they could cut down the trees and use that to say the land belongs to the state,” he said.