Digging for Power: How Israel’s Archaeology Drives Land Rewrites

Nestled in the hills above Sebastia’s Roman columns are olive fields that Palestinians have farmed for generations. Israeli authorities suddenly announced that 450 acres of these fields will become part of a new “national park.” For owners like Abu Mudif, it feels less like a friendly upgrade and more like a forced hand over.

It’s not just Sebastia. Across the West Bank, a 80‑acre site at Herodium—King Herod’s hilltop palace—has been earmarked too. Treasury‑sized investments have been announced, but Palestinian voices say the real aim is to extend Israeli control under the guise of preservation.

UNESCO has recognised both sites as World Heritage places and even listed them as “in danger.” With that prestige comes pressure. In 2026, new Israeli laws were floated that would hand archeology the power to seize more land, a move the government argues protects the past while Palestinians see it as history rewritten to suit Israel’s borders.

Local activists, such as Israeli activist Alon Arad and Palestinian owners who run restaurants and farms, say the plan cuts them off from the very ruins they cherish. They fear their traditions, recipes, and memories could vanish if the land goes to state hands.

It’s a hard question for the whole world: How do we balance the drive to protect heritage with the right of people who’ve lived there for ages? The story shows how digging deep into stones can also dig up buried claims, politics, and land disputes—all while history moves forward.