The Olive Oil Industry Faces a Crisis

One of the most famous myths associated with the olive tree is the story of how the city of Athens got its name. According to Greek mythology, the gods Poseidon and Athena competed to become the patron deity of a new city in Greece. To win the favor of the city’s people, each god offered a gift. Poseidon struck the ground with his trident and created a saltwater spring, symbolizing naval power and strength. Athena, on the other hand, planted the first olive tree on the Acropolis. The olive tree, which provided wood, oil, and food, was deemed more valuable by the people, and so they chose Athena as their patron deity. In honor of her, the city was named Athens, and the olive tree became a sacred symbol of the city, representing peace, wisdom, and prosperity.

In Judaism, the olive tree is a profound symbol of peace, resilience, and the enduring connection between the Jewish people and the Land of Israel. It is frequently mentioned in the Hebrew Bible, most notably in the story of Noah, where the dove returns with an olive branch, signaling the end of the flood and symbolizing peace and reconciliation. The olive tree represents the fertility and abundance of the Promised Land, as described in Deuteronomy, and is often used as a metaphor for the righteousness and resilience of Israel in prophetic texts. In rabbinic literature, the olive tree’s longevity and ability to thrive in harsh conditions serve as a metaphor for the Jewish people’s perseverance through trials. Olive oil, used to fuel the menorah in the ancient Temple, symbolizes divine light and wisdom, a connection celebrated during Hanukkah. The olive tree’s deep roots and regenerative nature also symbolize unity and peace, values central to Jewish teachings. Today, the olive branch continues to represent Israel’s aspirations for peace and is a key symbol on the nation’s emblem, intertwined with the menorah, reinforcing its spiritual and cultural significance in Jewish identity.

In ancient Egypt, the olive tree was associated with the goddess Isis and was considered a symbol of immortality. In Islam, the olive tree is mentioned in the Holy Quran, where it is described as a blessed tree, and olive oil is referred to as a sacred substance. In many of these traditions, the olive tree is also a symbol of longevity and resilience. Olive trees are known to live for thousands of years, and they can survive in harsh conditions, often regenerating from their roots even after being cut down or burned. This ability to endure and thrive in difficult environments has made the olive tree a powerful symbol of strength, endurance, and the cyclical nature of life.

The olive oil industry, an essential part of Mediterranean culture and economy, is under siege. As the effects of climate change intensify, olive groves across southern Europe are withering under extreme heat, drought, and devastating wildfires. From the ancient olive trees of Italy’s Salento region to the sprawling groves of Spain’s Jaén province, the industry is confronting an unprecedented crisis that threatens its future.

Spain: A Dwindling Harvest

Spain, the world’s leading producer and exporter of olives, is facing one of the most challenging harvest seasons in its history. The country has endured its third-driest year since records began in 1964, coupled with the hottest summer on record. High temperatures in May killed many of the blossoms on olive trees, and those that survived produced small, thin fruits due to the lack of water. This drastic reduction in yield is predicted to cut Spain’s fall olive harvest by nearly half compared to last year.

Juan Antonio Delgado, a farmer from Quesada in southeastern Spain, embodies the growing desperation among Spain’s 350,000 olive farmers, was talking to Associated Press. “I am 57 years old and I have never seen a year like this one,” Delgado lamented as he surveyed his parched fields. The economic pressure is mounting, as rising costs threaten to outstrip the income from what little production remains. With his olives still too puny to pick, Delgado has left most of them on the trees, hoping for rain that has yet to come. Spain’s Agriculture Minister, Luis Planas, confirmed the grim outlook: “Our forecast for this harvest season is notoriously low. The ministry predicts that it won’t even reach 800,000 tonnes, compared with 1.47 million tonnes in 2021.” Olive trees cover 2.7 million hectares of Spain’s soil, with 37% of them in Jaén province, known for its “sea of olives.” Despite the country’s dominance in olive production, the current climate conditions have cast a shadow over its future as a global leader.

Italy: Fires and Disease Compound the Crisis

In Italy’s Salento region, another tragic chapter is unfolding. The catastrophic Xylella fastidiosa epidemic, which has decimated olive groves over the past decade, has been exacerbated by wildfires, many of which are suspected to have been set by arsonists. These fires are destroying what remains of thousands of olive trees already mortally infected by the bacterium, adding a new layer of devastation to an already dire situation.

Salvatore Mongiò, one of the few remaining olive oil producers in Trepuzzi, Italy, is witnessing the slow death of an industry that has sustained his region for centuries. “We’ve moved on to the phase of destruction,” Mongiò said, driving through the ghostly groves of dead or dying olive trees. Salento, once Italy’s most productive olive oil region, now bears the scars of both disease and fire, leaving the landscape unrecognizable.

Tuscany: A Region Ablaze

Tuscany, another iconic region for olive oil production, is also feeling the heat—literally. This summer, wildfires have ravaged hundreds of hectares of olive groves, vineyards, forests, and farmland across central Italy. In the south of Tuscany, 2,400 residents were evacuated from a village on the slopes of Mount Amiata as local authorities struggled to contain the flames.

Andrea Elmi, president of Coldiretti-Lucca, highlighted the heavy toll these fires have taken on local growers. “Local growers are now seeing ash in place of those orchards where they used to play when they were kids. It is about time to work on prevention.” Tuscany experienced a 136% increase in wildfires in June compared to 2021, coupled with a 77% drop in rainfall. The combination of extreme heat, wind, and dry soil has turned one of Italy’s most important agricultural regions into a tinderbox.

Elmi emphasized the need for a proactive approach to prevent further devastation. He supports the “small basins project,” which aims to build a network of reservoirs to collect rainfall for irrigation and firefighting. Such measures, he argues, are crucial not only for preventing future fires but also for combating land abandonment, a growing problem as farmers give up on their burned-down groves.

Childhood Summers

My childhood holidays in Ayvalik was intertwined with the rich history and culture of olive oil, a golden elixir that has defined the identity of this beautiful coastal town for centuries. Nestled along the Aegean coast of Turkiye, Ayvalik is more than just a place where olive oil is produced; it is a region where olive oil shapes the very fabric of life, influencing the daily rhythms, traditions, and memories of those who call it home.

Enjoying holidays in Ayvalik, olive oil was omnipresent. It was in the air, a fragrant scent carried by the breeze that drifted through the olive groves stretching as far as the eye could see. The groves were more than just a source of livelihood; they were a part of the local community’s identity, connecting us to our ancestors who had cultivated these lands for generations. The olive trees, some of them hundreds of years old and some over 1000 years old, stood as silent witnesses to the passage of time, their gnarled trunks telling stories of resilience and continuity.

As a child, I remember accompanying my family watching farmers during the olive harvest season, a time of hard work, but also of togetherness which was alien to city life  and celebration. The entire community would come together, and the groves would be alive with the sound of laughter, the rustling of leaves, and the rhythmic beat of sticks knocking olives from the branches. There was a sense of shared purpose, of being part of something much larger than oneself. The olives, once collected, would be taken to the local press, where they were transformed into the liquid gold that would sustain us through the year.

In Ayvalik, olive oil was not just a product; it was a way of life. It flavored our food, nourished our skin, and even played a role in religious and cultural rituals. Meals were a celebration of the harvest, with every dish showcasing the purity and richness of the oil. I can still taste the simple yet exquisite flavors of freshly baked bread dipped in olive oil, sprinkled with a pinch of sea salt—a humble yet profound expression of the land’s bounty.

But olive oil in Ayvalik is more than just sustenance; it is a symbol of identity and heritage. The history of Ayvalik is deeply rooted in the cultivation of olives, and the region has long been renowned for producing some of the finest olive oil in the world. This reputation is not just due to the quality of the oil but also to the methods of production, which have been passed down through generations. The traditional ways of pressing olives, the reverence for the land, and the understanding of the trees’ needs are all part of a legacy that has been carefully preserved and respected.

This connection to olive oil also shaped my understanding of sustainability and stewardship from a young age. The people of Ayvalik have always understood the importance of caring for the land, knowing that it is the source of their livelihood and identity. The concept of “zeytinyağı gibi üste çıkmak”—which literally translates to “rising like olive oil,” referring to the way olive oil always floats to the top—became a metaphor for resilience and perseverance, qualities that were deeply ingrained in the community.

As I reflect on my childhood excursions in Ayvalik, I realize that the olive trees and the oil they produce are much more than agricultural products; they are symbols of the enduring connection between people and place. The olive oil of Ayvalik is not just a taste but a story—a story of tradition, family, and the land that sustains us.

Today, as the world grapples with the challenges of climate change and environmental degradation, the lessons I learned from my childhood in Ayvalik resonate more strongly than ever. The olive groves of Ayvalik stand as a reminder of the importance of preserving our natural heritage and the cultural practices that sustain it. In a world that is rapidly changing, the olive trees remain, rooted in the past but reaching toward the future, much like the people of Ayvalik themselves. Turkiye, with its 81 provinces, is set to reclaim its position as one of the largest olive oil producer in the world. In 2023, severe wildfires ravaged key olive-growing regions like Mugla, Antalya, and Izmir, destroying thousands of hectares of land and threatening local economies.

The Broader Implications

The plight of olive farmers in Spain, Italy, and Greece is a microcosm of the broader challenges facing global agriculture as the planet warms. The Mediterranean region, known for its unique climate and fertile soils, is particularly vulnerable to the effects of climate change. The combination of rising temperatures, prolonged droughts, and more frequent wildfires is pushing traditional farming practices to the brink.

In Greece, the situation is similarly dire. The summer of 2023 saw devastating wildfires across the country, followed by catastrophic floods in Thessaly. Critics argue that the Greek government’s response has been insufficient, with inadequate prevention measures and a lack of comprehensive climate adaptation policies. Biodiversity and ecosystem restoration expert Pavlos Georgiadis described the situation as a “state failure,” warning that future fires will be even more difficult to contain as vegetation structures change in the aftermath of the burns.

Call to Action

The challenges facing the olive oil industry are not just economic but deeply cultural. Olive oil has been a staple of Mediterranean life for millennia, with roots that trace back to ancient civilizations. The current crisis threatens not only the livelihoods of farmers but also the cultural heritage of regions like Salento, Tuscany, Ayvalik and Jaén.

To address these challenges, experts are calling for a systematic approach to climate adaptation and prevention. This includes increased investment in protecting forest lands, improving firefighting capabilities, and supporting sustainable farming practices. At the European level, measures like the New Nature Restoration Law, which aims to restore ecosystems, habitats, and species across the EU, offer a glimmer of hope.

However, as the experiences of farmers like Delgado, Mongiò, and those in Tuscany show, time is running out. Without immediate and concerted action, the olive groves of southern Europe could become yet another casualty of climate change, with far-reaching consequences for both the environment and human culture.

The olive oil industry, once a symbol of resilience and tradition, now stands at a crossroads. The decisions made in the coming years will determine whether it can adapt to the new realities of a warming world or whether it will succumb to the forces of nature that it has long endured.