Global Issues
ISRAEL: Kibbutz Returns With Moneyed Communism
It was an idea that became an institution, and that became the moving spirit behind the creation of the State of Israel. These were people who wanted to change the world. Now, they're content to live a life of carefree irrelevance. That's the Kibbutz today.
The cooperative farming communities were the driving force that shaped the political landscape and the borders before the newly established state took over that role in 1948.
Without fanfare, without much interest in the rest of the country, the kibbutz movement is marking its 100th anniversary. Does anything remain of the utopian social experiment rooted in the Marxist credo, 'From each according to his ability, to each according to his needs'?
Ella Bargai is 82, a founder of this kibbutz that lies halfway between Jerusalem and Tel Aviv. Fading black-and-white photographs recall those early pioneering days.
Ella dwells longingly on how, tasting the freedom of the new state, they also wanted to taste the fruit of their own emancipation: 'We were very young, no children, no parents. When you're young, you think everything's possible. The truth is everything is possible. We believed we had to work together. Everybody puts in as much as he can, everybody gets out as much as he really needs.'
Sixty-two years ago, in the midst of Israel's Independence War, Ella's group of socialist idealists were given the mission to build a community that would control one of the roads leading up to then besieged Jerusalem. 'We were asked to settle this place. The dream came true,' she says.
Her husband Uri, 81, is a retired regional veterinarian. First and foremost, he says, the mission had a Zionist goal: 'The kibbutz and the state were both founded on the same ideological ground: we were building a homeland for the Jewish people.'
For decades, as Israel consolidated its grip on the land, the kibbutz embodied the ideals of the new state -- love of the land, defence of the land, the in- gathering of the Jewish people in the land of the Bible.
The kibbutz was also putting into practice guiding socialist principles -- collective labour, equality, solidarity, the eschewing of material pursuits. The 250 or so kibbutzim were dedicated communes of pioneers living an austere lifestyle.
Members shared almost everything, Ella remembers: 'There was a storeroom for all the clothes. Everybody simply picked up whatever he needed. No one had their own private things. Except what you really need to have private -- a room for husband and wife to live together.' Children were brought up in age groups in collective dorms.
The model persisted until the '80s when it became clear to them that symbols and principles can prove short-lived when lived on a daily basis.
Ella and Uri show their wedding photographs -- a simple ceremony, a modest celebration. Their three children were all born on Tzora, and grew up here.
Their youngest, Niv, 45, is the headmaster of the regional school. When he was himself in his early 20's, Israel started shedding its pioneering past. Socialism, as in much of the world, was on a sharp downward spiral.
Suddenly, unbridled capitalism, consumerism and individualism became the prime values of Israeli society. Hit by hyper-inflation, burdened by debts, the Kibbutz model seemed bankrupt. The collective dining halls, old symbols of kibbutz life, emptied.
The second generation rebelled, says Niv: 'Many sons and daughters began to leave, to look for careers outside the kibbutz. They wanted to fulfill themselves in a different way. Maybe make money, become rich, not just live the way the kibbutz decides you should live. Those were bad years for the Kibbutz.'
Yet, there was no real war of generations. Gradually, the founders understood that perhaps they had gone against human nature. So, Ella recalls, 'We said, 'let's privatise part of the kibbutz.'' No longer would it be 'from each according to their need...' but about people aspiring to fulfill their needs, ready to work more in order to get more.
Surprisingly over the last decade there's been an unexpected third act -- many kibbutzim are again thriving. In 2010, though, it's less about pure socialism, more about some sort of suburban communal life.
Today, most kibbutzim may be privatized, but solidarity still binds the members. 'We call it 'a safety basket',' says Uri with a wry smile.
The new model is a subtle balance between collective responsibility and individual freedom. The emphasis now is on the education of the third generation and on community values like looking after the founding generation.
Many of the middle generation who'd left are rediscovering the advantages: the kibbutz as a safe, pastoral haven of manicured lawns, close to the city yet away from the stress of urban life, much cheaper too than the comparable bourgeois lifestyle in town.
Doron Zahavi grew up here, left to study and went to the U.S.: 'It was like freedom from the 'institution'.' Now at 42, he's back on Tzora with his New York-born wife and three children, a team leader in a hi-tech start-up, prototype of the 'new pioneer' of the modern Kibbutz.
He appreciates what he can get out of the reformed kibbutz: 'You're free to make your own choices. You no longer have to get permission from the system. Still we pay a lot of taxes to remain social -- I like that, people supporting one another.'
Many assets, like the Tzora dairy, are still collectively owned. More and more kibbutzim are run by boards of governors than by popular vote.
Critically, no longer is everyone paid the same.
Here, the workers in the almond orchard are young Palestinians from nearby villages of the occupied West Bank, or so-called guest workers from Thailand. Part of the land is rented out to boutique wineries.
One in 30 Israelis still lives on a kibbutz. And, as in the old days, people are lining up. On a single day recently, 40 families applied to join Tzora.
The Kolls were among them. 'The education is so good and so convenient here,' says Ronnie Koll, also a hi-tech engineer. 'And, it's so beautiful in the hills.'
So, is the Kibbutz living a post-modern utopian paradise?
It certainly changed the lay of the land, the face of Israel. But it failed to change human nature. Says Uri, 'They say, with money, you can be communist as much as you want.'
© Inter Press Service (2010) — All Rights Reserved. Original source: Inter Press Service