BBC witnesses Israeli settlers' attack on Palestinian farm in West Bank

From among the broken remains of Brahim Hamaiel's olive trees, in the occupied West Bank, we saw the masked men approach.

A dozen settlers, charging down from the illegal outpost above his farm and across the field towards us, moving fast and carrying large sticks.

A sudden and unprovoked attack.

Brahim had been showing us the trees he said had been hacked to pieces this week by settlers from the outpost.His family have farmed olives here on land near Turmus Aya, for generations, making it a target for extremist settlers who think killing Palestinian trees and livestock will also kill the idea of a Palestinian State, by forcing residents like Brahim off their land.

"Fear is natural," Brahim had told me, looking up at the ridge where tarpaulin flapped at the settlers' lookout post in front of a few caravans and makeshift homes. "But there's something stronger than fear that drives me to stay here – the scent of my ancestors and an attachment dating back hundreds of years – even if I pay the price with my blood."

As the masked men run towards us, we pull back to the road and drive a safe distance away.

Within minutes, some of Brahim's neighbours from the surrounding farms and villages gather with catapults and stones to confront the attackers.Tensions between local residents and settlers are complicated by the increasingly heavy control of Israeli forces across the West Bank, which has seen the evacuation and widespread demolition of refugee camps across the northern West Bank.

From January to June this year, the UN found that 149 Palestinians were killed by Israeli settlers or soldiers in the occupied West Bank. Nine Israelis were killed by Palestinians.

Hours after the clashes that erupted around Brahim's farm on Saturday, another Palestinian casualty was added to that grim tally.

Eighteen-year-old Hamdan Abu-Elaya was shot and killed by Israeli troops in al- Mughayyir village, a few miles from Brahim's field.

His mother told us he'd gone to see the fires lit by settlers nearby. "I raised him for 18 years, and he was gone in a minute," she said.

We asked the Israeli army what happened. It said "terrorists" had thrown rocks and Molotov cocktails at troops in the village, and that soldiers had "responded with fire to remove the threat".

Hundreds crowded into Hamdan's house for his funeral on Sunday, as his body was carried in for his mother to say goodbye.

His father, Ameen Abu Elaya, raging to friends and family, said he refused to show the Israelis his tears.

"They thought if they killed our son, we would leave," he said. "I will not shout and scream and say 'why has he gone?' I'm not sad that he passed. I encourage young men to do anything they can against the criminal occupier."

At the local mosque, there was a hero's welcome for Hamdan's body as it was carried in for the funeral prayer – vast Palestinian flags hung alongside those of Fatah and Hamas from the rooves and windows; crowds lining the path of the bier.

In the language of this conflict, each birth and each burial only strengthens the ties to the land.