Col. (res.) Prof. Gabi Siboni and Brig. Gen. (res.) Erez Winner
Introduction
In recent years, the agricultural farms initiative in Judea and Samaria has become one of the most influential settlement concepts shaping open areas, safeguarding land, and creating a continuous civilian presence in areas of national and security importance. This model rests on a simple yet powerful principle: a family or a group of farmers operating across a broad area through agriculture, grazing, and daily stewardship can create a far more effective hold on the land than that generated by an ordinary settlement point.
A farm is not merely an agricultural enterprise; it is a point of presence, a source of field intelligence, an educational hub, a tool for land conservation, and a complementary component of the security concept. The importance of this model is especially evident considering the ongoing challenge of preserving open areas in Judea and Samaria and in other regions, such as the Negev and the Galilee. In these areas there is often a gap between state ownership of land and a tangible, continuous presence on the ground. Such a gap can create a vacuum, quickly filled by illegal construction, agricultural crime, creeping encroachment, environmental neglect, and at times security threats. Therefore, the question is not only where a settlement or farm is established but also whether the state has the capacity to manage the area, oversee it, and establish practical sovereignty within it.
This article argues that the farm model in Judea and Samaria is first and foremost a model for maintaining a hold on open areas, and that understanding its uniqueness, advantages, and risks makes it possible to discuss its expansion to the Negev and the Galilee. This is not a matter of mechanically copying one model to every region but rather of adopting operating principles: permanent presence, civilian hold on the land, integration of agriculture and security, partnership with state authorities, planning and legal regulation, and a national policy that understands that land is preserved above all by those who live on it, cultivate it, and know every path and hill.
What Is the Farm Model and What Makes It Unique?
An agricultural farm in the settlement model discussed here is a relatively small permanent point, usually based on grazing, sheep and cattle raising, land cultivation, agritourism, or a combination of these activities. Unlike a community or urban settlement, the farm does not initially seek to create a large demographic mass but rather an efficient presence across a broad area. Its relatively small size is precisely what enables it to be established quickly, at comparatively low cost, and to adapt to the terrain. The farms in Judea and Samaria developed, among other reasons, as a response to the need to safeguard Area C and as part of the broader need to maintain a hold on the open areas in Areas A and B.
The uniqueness of the model lies in the combination of three dimensions: a settlement dimension, an agricultural dimension, and a security dimension. From the settlement perspective, the farm creates an Israeli presence in areas where there is no immediate justification for establishing a large community. From the agricultural perspective, it uses the land for grazing, cultivation, and the preservation of open areas. From the security perspective, it adds an informal civilian intelligence layer: the farmer lives in the field, recognises unusual movement, identifies attempts at encroachment, reports incidents, and helps security forces understand the terrain.
Here lies the fundamental difference between a farm and a regular permanent settlement. A permanent settlement, even when located in a vital area, naturally tends to converge within its physical boundaries: the settlement fence, the perimeter security system, residential homes, public buildings, and sometimes adjacent cultivated areas. Its hold on the land beyond the fence exists, but it is generally more limited and depends on the cultivated agricultural area, access routes, and formalised security activity. The farm, by contrast, maintains a hold on open areas through constant movement: grazing, herd patrols, opening paths, daily presence in wadis and on ridgelines, protecting water sources, and direct engagement with the terrain. In this sense, the strength of the farms lies not only in the residential point itself but also in their radius of activity and their range of influence on the surrounding area. They do not replace permanent settlements but complement them through a broader and more dynamic hold on open areas.
Maintaining a hold on the land is a central concept in understanding the importance of farms. A state may legally own land, but if it lacks a presence on the ground, ongoing oversight, economic activity, and daily human connection, its ownership may become merely a formal registration. A real hold on the land is created when the land serves concrete purposes: grazing, agriculture, tourism, education, guarding, patrols, and road maintenance. The farm, as a small and flexible entity, can operate across large areas and transform open land from abandoned space into managed territory.
In Judea and Samaria, the significance of this is especially clear. Area C includes broad zones of topographic, transportation, and security importance, and under the Oslo framework it remains under full Israeli civil and security responsibility. By contrast, Area A is under Palestinian civil and security control, while Area B is under Palestinian civil control and Israeli security control. Although the farm model operates first and foremost in Area C, long-term thinking cannot ignore the impact of Areas A and B on the entire area: built-up continuities, traffic arteries, access roads, village expansion, and public infrastructure all affect adjacent areas and Israel’s ability to maintain control over the area. When sensitive areas are left without Israeli presence, monitoring, or planning response, they may become arenas for unregulated construction, unauthorised road paving, placement of structures, quarrying, waste dumping, or hostile activity. Conversely, an active farm creates regular movement, marks sovereignty in practical terms, and reduces the possibility of quiet, ongoing encroachment.
In this discussion, it is necessary to distinguish between legitimate civilian assistance to the Palestinian population and the use of planning, infrastructure, and external funding as tools for shaping permanent facts on the ground. Official European Union publications refer to financial support for infrastructure projects in Area C, including roads, schools, water, and electricity, as part of a view that sees this area as a central component of Palestinian territorial contiguity and the “two-state solution”. From an Israeli perspective, when such activity is carried out without full coordination with the State of Israel or in areas of security importance, it is perceived not as humanitarian assistance but as a hostile political move intended to strengthen the Palestinian hold and weaken Israel’s ability to preserve continuity of control, security routes, and key areas. Moreover, the need for an Israeli hold is not limited to Area C in the narrow sense but requires an understanding of the connection among Areas A, B, and C and of the way Palestinian planning and European funding affect the entire area.
The importance of the farms is sharpened further in light of Dr Mordechai Kedar’s idea of Palestinian emirates. According to this concept, instead of a centralised and contiguous Palestinian state, local governing frameworks would be established based on the main cities and clans. The idea underscores a point relevant to the farm model: the importance of preventing hostile territorial contiguity and preserving the open areas between urban centres. Farms operating in the areas between Palestinian cities, along access routes and ridgelines, can help create a reality in which local Palestinian responsibility remains focused on defined urban areas, while the open areas are preserved under an Israeli presence. In this sense, farms are not only an agricultural or security tool but also a component of a broader political concept.
Farms as a Security, Educational, and Social Enterprise
National security does not rest only on bases, fences, cameras, and military forces. It also rests on a resilient civilian population, on farmers who know the terrain, on communities that maintain open areas, and on the ability to identify change before it becomes a threat. The farm creates an early-warning layer. The farmer knows if a new road was opened during the night, if a foreign herd entered the area, if a suspicious vehicle moved along an unusual route, if a fence was cut, or if new structures appeared. This is information that is difficult to obtain solely through technological means or periodic patrols.
In Judea and Samaria, commanders and various security officials have over the years referred to the importance of the farms and the coordination between them and the military. This point is important: the farm is not a substitute for the state and is not a private militia. Its security role derives from being a lawful and regulated civilian presence operating alongside the police, the military, regional councils, and planning authorities. In the context of Areas A and B, where Israel’s authorities are more limited or complex, the importance of nearby points of presence increases further: they enable better control of transitions between areas, monitoring of changes in land use, identification of new construction and infrastructure, and the creation of a cognitive and practical continuity of Israeli presence. When coordination is effective, the farm helps prevent surprises, reduce grey zones, and strengthen the security of the region’s residents.
Beyond the land and security dimension, the farms generate educational and social value. In many places, they attract young people and volunteers to agricultural work, teaching responsibility, discipline, labour, connection to the land, and meaningful service, while also providing a response for at-risk youth seeking direction. In an era in which large parts of Israeli society are moving away from manual labour and direct familiarity with the terrain, the farm restores the encounter with the land to the centre. It teaches that Zionism is not only a political declaration but a daily act: waking up in the morning, tending the herd, repairing a fence, protecting a water source, opening a road, and knowing that the land remains alive because someone is responsible for it.
Expansion to the Negev and the Galilee
Because the farm model’s main strength is its ability to maintain a hold on open areas, its possible expansion to the Negev and the Galilee should be examined. Although these regions differ from Judea and Samaria in legal, demographic, and planning terms, they face a similar challenge: large areas where state presence is not sufficiently continuous, creating governance and planning vacuums that may be filled by unregulated construction, agricultural crime, land encroachment, environmental neglect, or diminished territorial control. The discussion of the Negev and the Galilee is therefore not separate from the article’s central argument but an assessment of how the same principle could be applied in other parts of Israel.
In the Negev, the need for such a model derives first and foremost from the size of the area and gaps in enforcement. The region includes vast open areas, natural resources, training areas, vital transportation arteries, energy infrastructure, IDF bases, tourism areas, and desert agriculture. Precisely because the state cannot place an enforcement force in every wadi, road, and hill, a model is needed of a decentralised, lawful civilian presence connected to state systems. In this area, the farm can serve as a hub of control, reporting, and deterrence against agricultural crime, livestock theft, equipment vandalism, break-ins, and damage to infrastructure, while also contributing to the development of desert agriculture, educational tourism, and the connection of young people to working the land.
Individual farms in the Negev have already demonstrated that agriculture, tourism, and land stewardship can be combined, and they also illustrate the need for regulation. Government decisions and the Israel Land Authority have dealt over the years with the regulation of such farms. Thus, the idea is not foreign to Israeli policy; it exists but requires updating, expansion, and broader implementation. Adopting the model in the Negev should focus on strengthening existing grazing and agricultural areas, establishing new points where there is a genuine need for a hold on the land, and connecting the farms to a regional security framework.
In the Negev, there is special importance to an agricultural-settlement presence near sensitive security and infrastructure areas, including IDF and air force bases, essential facilities, traffic arteries, and national infrastructure. In such areas, where broad open areas may become focal points for intrusion into training areas, damage to infrastructure, or criminal activity, farms can serve as a complementary civilian presence layer to security and enforcement systems.
The rationale for expanding the model in the Galilee is different in nature. This is a denser, more mountainous, more environmentally sensitive, and demographically more complex region. Yet it too contains grazing areas, buffer zones, forests, abandoned agricultural lands, and areas where a stronger civilian presence is required. In the Galilee, the farm can serve as a tool for strengthening rural settlement, rehabilitating pastoral agriculture, combating agricultural crime, protecting the boundaries of communities, and creating continuity among existing settlement points, especially in areas where a permanent settlement is not the correct or feasible solution.
At the same time, expanding the model to the Negev and the Galilee requires adaptation, not duplication. In the Negev, the emphasis should be on security, landholding, agricultural crime, spatial management, and infrastructure. In the Galilee, particular care must be taken regarding landholdings, strengthening the settlement presence, and cooperation with nearby communities. A poorly planned farm may harm the environment or create unnecessary friction; therefore, every farm should be established only after mapping the area, coordinating with planning authorities, arranging access, water, energy, and communications, and clearly defining its missions: land protection, agricultural development, tourism, education, or a combination of these.
In this sense, expanding the model to the Negev and the Galilee may also help strengthen young populations, train a new generation of farmers, and mobilise pre-military academies, service-year programmes, settlement nuclei, and youth movements. The farm can be a place where young people learn national responsibility through service, not only through classroom lessons. The more regulated, supervised, and connected the farms are to education, community, and security systems, the greater their social value will be and the lower the risk that they will become isolated and uncontrolled initiatives. Therefore, precisely because the Negev and the Galilee differ from each other and from Judea and Samaria, it is the principles of the model that should be adopted there, not merely its external form.
Risks and Opportunities
The chapter on risks and opportunities requires a dual perspective. On the one hand, the farm model offers the state a relatively efficient, inexpensive, and flexible tool for maintaining a hold on the land, safeguarding state lands, strengthening regional security, and creating an educational and social framework for youth and volunteers. The farms in Judea and Samaria are an enterprise that holds hundreds of thousands of dunams and helps kerb unregulated Palestinian construction in Area C. The fact that the farms have become an essential spatial actor demonstrates the model’s potential.
Today, the state invests in farms out of a growing understanding of their importance. Military and government officials understand that holding open areas is done more effectively when local farmers who live in the area and know it in depth care for it on a daily basis. For this reason, support for the farms is not limited to conceptual recognition but is expressed in various practical aspects: infrastructure development, fence construction, integration of advanced security components, logistical assistance, and agricultural grants. In budgetary terms, establishing a farm requires a relatively limited investment compared with establishing a permanent settlement, yet it can generate broad spatial impact. From this follows the need, voiced by senior military and state officials, to establish dozens of additional farms that can safeguard hundreds of thousands more dunams and areas of importance in an efficient, flexible, and relatively inexpensive manner.
A clear example of the security opportunity embedded in the farm model can be found in the Jordan Valley. This area combines a long border with Jordan, broad open areas, sparse traffic arteries, and direct proximity to the mountain ridge. In recent years, reports have increased weapons and arms smuggling across the eastern border, including smuggling by drones. Integrating farms near—or even within—abandoned outposts of the “water line” positions along the Jordan could create an important civilian support layer: a constant presence by day and night, movement through the area by grazing, identification of tracks and unusual changes, rapid reporting to IDF forces, and intimate familiarity with access roads, wadis, and crossings. This does not replace the military or intelligence and collection systems, but it can increase the density of eyes on the ground, make it harder for weapons smugglers to operate, reduce the freedom of action of hostile actors, and strengthen the warning and response system along the eastern border.
On the other hand, the more important the farms become, the sharper the opposition they arouse. Parts of the political system, left-wing organizations, and international organizations view the farms as a tool for changing the territorial balance in Judea and Samaria, and at times portray them as unregulated outposts that should be removed or dismantled. In this context, a historical comparison may be drawn to the “Tower and Stockade” enterprise. During the 1936–1939 Arab Revolt, dozens of Jewish communities were established rapidly, sometimes overnight, in areas of national and security importance, in an effort to establish facts on the ground before political decisions were made. Settlement in the “Tower and Stockade” format was, in effect, a counteroffensive by the Jewish Yishuv in the face of Arab attacks and British partition plans. Against this background, one can imagine that even then calls might have been heard to dismantle settlement points in an effort to calm tensions or appease external actors.
Indeed, the comparison is not complete: the legal, political, and international reality of today is entirely different from that of the Mandate period. Nevertheless, the principled similarity lies in the fact that in both cases settlement is perceived as the foremost Zionist value, and the struggle over the land is viewed as part of the struggle over the political and security future of the area. Against this background, the demand by various actors in Israel to dismantle the farms is seen by supporters of the model as standing in sharp contrast to the Zionist ethos of settlement, responsibility, and holding the land.
Alongside the opportunity, the risks must also be addressed. The first risk is legal: a farm that operates without clear regulations may turn from a national asset into a political and legal burden. The second risk is environmental: uncontrolled grazing, excessive fencing, unauthorised road opening, or construction without planning may damage open areas. The third risk is security-related and social: unnecessary friction or independent action that is not coordinated with security forces may weaken the argument in favour of the model as a whole. The fourth risk is political: in the absence of broad agreement and clear government regulation, any coalition change may lead to demands to freeze the farms, evacuate them, or reduce support for them.
From this follows a central conclusion: those who seek to ensure the continued existence of the farms cannot be satisfied with their physical establishment alone. A framework of legality, transparency, planning, environmental responsibility, and security coordination must be built around them. An approved, supervised farm connected to state authorities makes it difficult for its opponents to present it as a problem that should be dismantled. By contrast, an unregulated farm, even if it contributes in practice to holding the land, may become an easy target for political, legal, or diplomatic attack. Therefore, the real opportunity lies not only in expanding the number of farms but also in turning them into a recognised, measurable, and defensible settlement institution, similar to the way controversial settlement enterprises in the past eventually received national status.
Recommendations
First, it is proposed to anchor the farm model in comprehensive government policy rather than leave it as a collection of local initiatives. This policy should define the objectives of the farms in national, security, agricultural, environmental, and educational terms and distinguish among types of areas: Judea and Samaria, the Negev, and the Galilee. In Judea and Samaria, the farms should be defined as part of a land-hold framework that protects Area C and maintains the hold on open areas in Areas A and B. In the Negev, the focus should be on combating agricultural crime, safeguarding state lands, and creating a civilian presence in remote areas. In the Galilee, the emphasis should be on community integration, preserving open areas, and strengthening Jewish settlement through pastoral agriculture in vital areas.
A mapping process should be carried out to identify the areas where an active hold is required. Such mapping should not be limited to formal land ownership but should examine territorial continuity, proximity to transportation routes, control of ridgelines, observation points, grazing areas, agricultural crime hotspots, infrastructure lines, buffer zones between communities, and areas where unregulated construction is taking place. In Judea and Samaria, the mapping should also include patterns of expansion from Areas A and B into Area C, focal points of external support for Palestinian infrastructure, and places where the absence of an Israeli presence creates a governance vacuum. This mapping should be conducted by an interministerial team, using aerial imagery, field patrols, intelligence and civilian information, and planning-authority data.
It is proposed to create a dedicated planning and legal regulation track for farms. This track should be fast enough to prevent loss of land, yet rigors enough to prevent deviations and environmental harm. Alongside this, a mechanism should be established for periodic oversight and revocation of authorisation in cases of noncompliance. Such regulation will strengthen the public and legal legitimacy of the model and enable the state to present the farms not as improvised action but as an official and supervised policy tool.
Each farm should be connected to a regional security framework. This connection should include communications equipment, a reporting centre, liaison procedures with the police, the Border Police, and the IDF according to the characteristics of the area, and coordination with the security departments of the regional councils. In Judea and Samaria, especially near Areas A and B, the role of the farm should be defined as a civilian observation point and early-warning mechanism. This distinction is essential: the farm contributes to security by seeing, reporting, knowing, and holding the land, but responsibility for the use of force and enforcement actions remains with state authorities.
It is important to integrate the farms into education, training, and employment systems. A farm that is not only a family enterprise but also a training hub can generate broader national value: training young shepherds and farmers, absorbing volunteers, involving pre-military academies and service-year programmes, and implementing Zionist education programmes. Such integration strengthens the social resilience of the farms and prevents their isolation. In addition, a sustainable economic model should be developed based on grazing, agriculture, educational tourism, professional training, and government support during the establishment stages, so that the farm does not become permanently dependent on public funding. It is also essential to broaden the circle of partners in the farm initiative to include the general public and not leave it identified only with youth and communities in Judea and Samaria.
The state should measure annually the scope of land managed; the number of encroachment or unregulated construction incidents identified; the contribution of the farms to reducing agricultural crime, agricultural output, and educational contribution; and the degree of cooperation with nearby communities and environmental bodies. Such measures will make it possible to distinguish between farms that fulfil a national role and farms that do not justify continued activity in their current format. It will also enable the state to compare the model in Judea and Samaria with its implementation in the Negev and the Galilee and to adjust policy over time.
Conclusion
The farm initiative in Judea and Samaria demonstrates that a hold on the land is not achieved only through declarations, maps, or master plans. It is created when people live on the land, work it, protect it, and are connected to it. The agricultural farm is small in size but large in impact: it connects agriculture with security, settlement with education, and formal sovereignty with practical sovereignty. In areas where the state struggles to maintain a daily presence, the farm can serve as an anchor point.
The discussion of the Negev and the Galilee should remain focused on expanding the model, not on replacing the central discussion of Judea and Samaria. This is not a policy of improvisation, unregulated initiatives, or the establishment of points without planning, but an orderly national move that adopts the principles behind the success of the farm model and adapts them to each region. In the Negev, the emphasis must be on area, security, agricultural crime, and infrastructure; in the Galilee, the emphasis must be on environmental sensitivity, community integration, strengthening agriculture, and preserving settlement continuity. In both regions, the key is the same: a lawful, responsible, and sustained presence.
Adopting the farm model is not a magic solution to all of Israel’s land, security, and settlement challenges. But it is an important tool in the national toolbox. When carried out in cooperation with the authorities and within a security-oriented concept, it can strengthen sovereignty, reduce crime and illegal encroachment, cultivate a young generation connected to the land, and ensure that the open spaces of the Negev and the Galilee do not remain devoid of an active Israeli presence. In Judea and Samaria, its importance grows in light of the struggle over continuity of control across the area and the prevention of unilateral shaping of the terrain through construction, infrastructure, and planning sometimes supported by external funding. Ultimately, the one who holds the land is the one who is present on it, and a state that seeks to safeguard its future must ensure that this presence exists, is regulated, values-based, and secure.
