Elderly veterans of Kibbutz Manara, located in the Upper Galilee region of northern Israel, near the border with Lebanon, are known as 'foxes.' "Once upon a time, the veterans established a kibbutz, and captured everyone's imagination," a kibbutz member said. "Now they are setting up a privatized community for themselves, claiming land, and making sure their children will be well-off as well. Who said wisdom fades with age? Apparently it only increases with age." Kibbutz Manara is perched on lofty ridges in the Naftali mountains, 888 meters above ground. Down below lies the Hula valley, and at a distance one can see the Hermon mountain and Golan Heights as well. But despite its pastoral scenic environment, the kibbutz has not succeeded in enticing people to settle there. Not a single child of a kibbutz Manara family has grown up and decided to remain on the kibbutz. The ageing kibbutz members have decided to convert the kibbutz to a community, divide the financial assets among themselves, and leave behind the socialist kibbutz ideology. The kibbutz includes 220 people today, only 77 of which are official members. The average age of the residents is 64, and a grand total of only 10 children live on the kibbutz. The communal dining hall and children facilities have been closed for years. A grocery store still operates in the kibbutz, but is run by people living outside the kibbutz. Lebanese villages are close by, and the smell of cherries, plums, apples, and nectarines fill the air around the area, which appears quite desolate. People may argue about smells and tastes, but the change the kibbutz is undergoing is indisputable. In a vote held several months ago, 90 percent of the members voted for converting the socialist kibbutz to a privatized community, with only 10% opposing the move. Pensioners and elderly members, who constitute the majority, and who established the kibbutz, voted for the change. They decided to change over into a community in order to survive, and to divide the financial assets among them "as fast as possible." "Look, we weren't many, but we had a fighting spirit. We felt like we were on a mission, and the security situation brought us together. We dealt with security issues, and perhaps forgot all about the younger generation. We didn't realize we needed to entice them to live here after their military service. We should have offered them a worthwhile educational program and attractive housing, and we failed to do that. We neglected the future generation of the kibbutz to the point that we realized we need to transform the kibbutz into a community. Only this way will we be able to attract youngsters back here," said a kibbutz member who preferred to remain anonymous. A yishuv in name only In recent years, Manara made two attempts to build new housing units for young families, in the hope of injecting the kibbutz with fresh members and a new life. Both attempts failed. A kibbutz member said that "not even a single child registered for the new housing units." Childrens' facilities were dismantled, and the holidays are now celebrated together with nearby Kibbutz Misgav Am, so that the kibbutz veterans will not feel isolated and alone. Pinhas Rosenfeld, 86, came to Manara in 1946, three years after he arrived in Israel. "We were always few here, but a united few. As employees of the Jewish National Fund, we planted trees here, and established this kibbutz and society. It wasn't an easy decision to privatize this kibbutz, but I will move forward with it," Rosenfeld said. Rosenfeld, who is a former kibbutz secretary, supported the move to convert to a private community. "It will be a community in name only," Rosenfeld said. "There are not enough youngsters here, and this move will enable me to provide plots of land for the younger members of my family. It was a difficult decision for sure, but attorneys showed up and convinced me. We will continue to be a kibbutz, and Manara will never cease to be. All the fruit orchards will remain the collective property of the community, but we will all gain private rights with respect to our properties. We are in good economic shape here. Everyone has a private car, and more families will come to live here, to liven the place up. We were and remain good and modest people, and we will not change despite the change in the status of the kibbutz." With only 17 members left, Kibbutz Natur in the Golan Heights is the only member of the Kibbutz Movement to undergo a similar transformation. Today, there are 50 families living in Natur and many more are waiting to become members. Manara hopes to copy the Natur example. A member of Manara, who was not one of the original founders, said: "In the beginning, I thought it was odd that the kibbutz elders were those who were urging us to change our status to that of a community. Later on I understood that he who gives up the communal dining hall, and transfers all the communal buildings to people who live outside the kibbutz, shouldn't be surprised to wake up one day in a private community. Perhaps only they, who established the kibbutz, can understand what needs to be done to preserve their lives here for a few more years." Leaving the shelters behind One young member of the kibbutz, who chose to live in the country's central region, said that he is seriously thinking of returning, now that the kibbutz has been privatized. "Until now, I didn't have a logical reason to return to Manara. There are no people my age there, and I felt remote, isolated, and even a bit sad there. I don't want to have to look for a pub half an hour's drive from my home. I don't want to live in the winter in a place that is so cold. I can find a home to buy for NIS 1,000,000 or even less, in a more attractive area. Now, if a plot of land [in Manara] won't be too costly, and I can purchase a plot to build a home on, that's a different story." Vladia Liken, 51, is the community leader in Manara. He arrived in Israel from Leningrad in the 1990s and was integrated in Manara successfully. Liken said that the kibbutz is in good social and economic shape, and the security situation is calmer than ever. "In the past, we would practically live in our sheltered rooms. People lived in fear. Today, after the Second Lebanon War, everything changed. Our guest houses are full, and we run a cable car at the Manara cliff. People who come to visit find it hard to leave because of the breathtaking scenery, the clean air, and the wonderful kibbutz people. This kibbutz always had a small population, so the amount of potential returnees is also naturally small. There's no doubt that we are in a constant struggle with an image of isolation, risky security issues, and so on." Rachel Yaakov, who is 86 and looks a lot younger, is a founding member of Kibbutz Manara, as well as the sister of assassinated Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, may he rest in peace. She lives in a clean, modest, and appealing home. Her husband, Raphie, is asleep in the next room, as she speaks fondly of the kibbutz she helped establish. "We lived in tents here, and then they brought a single aluminum hut for us to use as a kitchen, and a wooden hut for a dining hall," Yaakov said. "I came from Tel Aviv, and a kibbutz to me meant the fulfillment of Zionism. Those who don't appreciate this place, cannot live here. Many friends were killed by bombardments all around us during the country's wars, and it is hard to get a decent job here because we are so far from the center of the country. My husband, Raphie, supported the change to privatization. I was not so enthusiastic about it from the start, but I slowly began to support the idea, and I now believe the transformation was a success and the right move."
