Apr 26, 2010
Almost since the birth of the kibbutz a hundred years ago, different communities have hived off into a handful of different federations that would represent their collective interests and various visions of communal life: religious vs. Marxist, staying small vs. growing bigger, etc. The past 20 years of demographic change and economic privatization, however, have weakened the power and influence of these federations. In fact, after several amalgamations, there is for all intents and purposes only one remaining federation, the Kibbutz Movement, that speaks for all secular kibbutzim.
Recently, two kibbutzim decided to break ties (for now at least) with the main federation over a dispute with the Labour Party (long the movement’s “voice” in the Israeli Parliament) about completing foundations for buildings that would house the children of kibbutz members. The source of the dispute: the two communities are located in the Jordan Valley, near the Dead Sea, on land captured after the Six Day War, in the much-contested region known alternatively (depending on where one perches on the political spectrum) as Judea and Samaria, the West Bank, or The Occupied Territories. To make historical matters more convoluted, one kibbutz—Beit HaAravah—had been founded in 1939, evacuated during the 1948 Arab-Israeli War, and re-established as a military kibbutz outpost in 1980.
What seems like a small dispute—the kibbutzim only wanted to finish the foundations, not the actual buildings, but were ordered to destroy them—escalated into an ideological split. It’s a reminder of how recent changes to the kibbutz movement have made individual communities both more isolated from and independent of the larger kibbutz community—much like the members themselves in their own private lives.
Apr 21, 2010
Catching up on my Net-surfing, I read this analysis of the rise and fall and rise of the kibbutz movement in MarketWatch. It’s part of the Wall Street Journal’s digital network, so you can anticipate the bias. It’s definitely typical of the kibbutz-as-failed-socialists-embrace-capitalism slant that J.J. Goldberg critiques.
Still, it’s filled with some interesting facts and financial stats and mentions Kibbutz Shamir (whose stock has doubled since I visited—I should have invested!). And the wide-ranging debate amongst commenters shows how passionate people can get about what the fate of the kibbutz means to the rest of society.
And the article’s conclusion actually lays off the throttle of its otherwise free-market cheerleader tone:
Now numbering 123,000, the new kibbutzniks are financially cautious and ideologically disillusioned, but even so, in an era of global economic perplexity, theirs may yet prove a model for a kinder, gentler, communitarian capitalism.
Apr 21, 2010
I’ll be the first to admit I know little about religious kibbutzim in Israel. I’ve never visited one and have only read about them tangentially. I didn’t even know that 2010—the centenary of the movement as a whole—is also the 80th anniversary of Ha-kibbutz Ha-Dati, the federation devoted to the small group of 16 religious-oriented communities. There is a good short posting on Jewish Daily Ideas that gives a mini-overview.
Most people know the kibbutz as an intensely secular, even anti-religious movement. Yes, there was a sense of spirituality amongst its founders, but it was based on a vague “religion of labour” inspired by the Tolstoy-tinged writings and actions of philosopher-pioneer A.D. Gordon. (More on him later.) The early pioneers were fleeing the claustrophobic orthodoxy of their homes in Eastern Europe.
But the Ha-Dati communities prove just how tricky it can be to generalize about a social movement as varied as the kibbutz—let alone a multicultural nation as complex as contemporary Israel. (Of course, those shades of grey often don’t appear in the black-and-white depictions of the country in the North American media.) The Jewish Daily News item emphasizes just how slippery it can be to pin a political tail on the religious kibbutzim: “Although many members sympathize deeply with the settlers in Judea and Samaria, the movement is also one of the few sectors of Israeli society in which one hears left-wing voices speaking in religious cadences.”
In fact, these religious communities have taken a leading role in the coalition of traditional kibbutzim (often called “The Communal Trend”) that has tried to preserve the movement’s communal ideals and even lobbied against allowing “privatized” communities to retain the legal status of “kibbutz”. It may take the efforts of religious kibbutzniks to save the founding philosophy of the secular commune.
Religion, it seems, helps preserve the co-operative spirit in the face of change—or at least that’s one theory I plan to test-drive when I visit Israel again this summer… and finally set foot on a couple of religious kibbutzim. (Until then, happy 80th birthday!)
To confuse things further, you just have to consider the moshav — a semi-co-operative rather than fully communal rural community that has always gotten far less attention than its more famous sibling, the kibbutz. (And subsequently resented the kibbutz because of this.) The moshavim tend to be more religious and more attractive to Mizrahi Jews (from Middle-Eastern and North African countries) rather than the Ashkenazi Jews (from northern and Eastern Europe) who founded the first kibbutzim.
Apparently, religion has suffered a decline in many of the moshavs for a variety of reasons. If it’s hard to make general statements about the kibbutz movement without stumbling across a glaring exception, forget about trying to sum up the state of the moshav — maybe that’s why they get ignored by the pundits, despite their key role in the agricultural economy in Israel.
Apr 21, 2010
I’ve been distracted by end of term deadlines and meetings, plus a short business trip to San Francisco, but have been meaning to link and reflect on an interesting story in The Jewish Daily Forward. It’s a look back at the economic crisis. No, not the recent international meltdown of the financial system, but rather the spiralling hyperinflation that struck Israel in the mid-1980s.
Most experts point to the financial shock of this period as the beginning of the end of true communalism in the kibbutz movement. Many critics use the deep indebtedness of the kibbutzim at the time and their subsequent embrace of what might be described as “free-market reforms” as evidence of capitalism trumping socialism. But as author J.J. Goldberg points out, that analysis doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. In fact — and I heard this from several experts myself — the kibbutz movement got a raw deal from the banks and government, especially when compared to the debt restructuring agreements hammered out for other players in the then-struggling Israeli economy.
The result? A sense of economic desperation and disillusionment amongst kibbutz members.
Whatever the reason, kibbutzim didn’t receive even partial debt restructuring until 1989. By that time, the combined kibbutz movement debt was near $6 billion, or about $50,000 per kibbutznik. Draconian debt repayments were emptying kibbutz treasuries and driving down living standards, except on the wealthiest kibbutzim. Members with marketable talents began leaving, and kibbutzim began searching for ways to entice them to stay. Exit socialist idealism, enter private incentive.
That might seem like ancient history in light of Israel’s booming new high-tech economy. But the changes currently transforming the kibbutz movement have their roots, not in a failure of ideology (or not entirely), but also in a political unwillingness to extend a helping hand to communities that had played a vital role in the settlement and development of the State of Israel. (One minor correction to the original article: The Likud hadn’t been “feuding with the kibbutzim since the 1930s,” as that right-wing party didn’t come into existence until 1973. Its founder, Menachem Begin, did have little sympathy for kibbutzniks, who he infamously derided as “millionaires with swimming pools”.)
J.J. Goldberg, a former member of Kibbutz Gezer, sums up the “lessons” of the last economic crisis nicely:
The old kibbutz ideal is mostly history, and nothing is likely to bring it back. But the truth still matters, because the crisis of the mid-1980s has lessons for us today. The same cynical arguments brought against the kibbutz at a time of crisis — it never worked anyway, idealism is naïve, greed rules, dog must eat dog — are being hurled these days against every effort at a kinder society, from health care reform to minimum wages to pensions to consumer credit protection. It was bunk back then, and it’s bunk today.
Apr 6, 2010
The Jewish holiday of Purim was more than a month ago. But I’ve been transcribing my old journal from my time as a volunteer and came across a brief description of the festivities on Shamir. It reminded me that, as I research the history and economics and sociology of the movement, not to forget about the life of the kibbutz.
So many of volunteers’ best memories, like my own, centre around the shared cultural events that the kibbutzniks organize to reinforce their sense of community. And no event is more booze-laden and bizarre than Purim. I’m glad I remembered to jot down a few notes afterwards. And while the photos are embarrassing, they do bring back memories, too.
Here is an excerpt from my journal of March 25, 1989:
Yesterday was Purim, a Jewish religious festival celebrating the story (possibly apocryphal) of Mordechai’s saving the Jewish people from the persecution of the king’s advisor Haman. It is the one holiday that the Jews are not only allowed but expected to get drunk on. As part of the evening’s festivities, the volunteers performed a pair of acts. The first, starring Tim [from Chicago] on guitar and Emma, Mandy [British volunteers], & co. singing backup, was a song about life as a volunteer, sung to the tune of “My Generation”, entitled “Ghetto Creation”. The grand finale to the live entertainment segment of the Purim party was presented by Jim, Mattias, Wolf, Bruce and myself. We danced a unique version of “Swan Lake” to a medley of music that included Mendehlson, Little Richard, and the theme from “The Magnificent Seven,” as well as various rude bodily noises. Our costumes were complete with swan heads, flowing feathers, downy feet, pink tutus, dark shades and cigarettes. Mattias [from Sweden] had the choice role as the dying baby swan whom we discovered, pranced about, and eventually tore to shreds. Renowned drama critic Yoav [a kibbutznik friend] applauded us as “the best act”. Wolf [an older German volunteer] had gotten himself completely pissed as we were waiting for our stage call, sitting awkwardly in full costume, and was blurting out bizarre comments such as “Johnny hates goldfish” and “Get warm Swede!”
