search
Judy Halper
Left is not a dirty word

The secret of the kibbutzniks’ strength

Embed from Getty Images

Like nearly everyone in the country (with the possible exception of right-wing MP Orit Strook), I was transfixed by the images of hostages walking free after over 480 days in Hamas captivity. I listened in awe as the 80-year-old explained that he kept in shape by walking up and down the length of tunnels, whose second statement after crossing into freedom was that he was going to rebuild his kibbutz. I watched a young woman walk a terrifying gauntlet of masked, gun-toting fighters to get to safety, after being held for 15 months on her own, and her partner still held in Gaza. I saw a man who had repeatedly been told his wife and young children were dead scowling in pain as he walked erectly to the Red Cross jeep that would take him to the border. And another man, looking to be aged 10 years in the ensuing 15 months, insisting on walking into the hospital on his own two legs, despite being malnourished and disoriented.

Each evening, we are fed a few carefully curated stories of horror and heroism. Hostages undergoing surgery without anesthetics, hostages helping one another through the toughest times. We can’t turn away.

But I have to draw a line: All of a sudden, the media has rediscovered “the kibbutznik.” The kibbutznik is one of a special breed. (Their words, not mine.) They have a special connection to the earth. Knock them down, but they won’t stay down. They are so amazing that if we are to rebuild the country after this eternal war is over, it will be the work of those pioneering kibbutzniks with their positive spirit, we are told with a grin and a shake of the head.

Too bad, they add, those kibbutzniks were sold up the creek by their government.

But honestly, guys, where were you when the weapons were taken away from the home preparedness groups on the border kibbutzim and military resources diverted to guarding settlers in the West Bank? Did you stay silent when the word “kibbutznik” was used as a synonym for land thief?

And as much as you want to romanticize the kibbutznik’s relationship to the land, let’s face it, the five Thai foreign workers freed midweek alongside three Israelis had a day-to-day relationship with the land – at least as much as some of our plucky kibbutzniks. In the tunnels of Gaza, everyone was either a captive or a hostage, and the Thai workers, taken from the kibbutz fields and held for no apparent reason, had their own share of horror and heroism. We saw a few quick images of their release, the newscasters stumbled over their names and we’ll try to send them back to Thailand with a bit of recompense as soon as possible. And yet, they are as much a part of our narrative as every other unfortunate citizen randomly grabbed on Oct. 7 and held captive for nearly 16 months.

Along with the kibbutzniks, those five young female soldiers taken from the border observation post who were returned over the past two weeks are heroes by anyone’s definition. “They’ve formed an unbreakable bond,” we are told, as we are shown, on repeat loop, the group hug when Agam Berger, the final one to be freed, arrived in the hospital. Some in the media have even taken to calling them “women,” rather than “girls.” A mark of high regard, indeed.

Too bad, we are reminded, those young women got sold up the creek by the entire army brass, as well as by our government.

Like everyone, I am dazzled by those young women. But I’m wary of letting myself be blinded by the light. Because aside from coping with the trauma of the kidnapping, injuries and months in captivity, those young women now have to deal with the fact that so many of their close-knit unit were killed on Oct. 7, with the trauma of knowing they tried to tell those in charge what was going on, but there was no one there to listen. Their parents begged for privacy for a reason, because we have to allow our heroes room to break down.

The same goes for our suddenly beloved kibbutzniks. They may be strong like the rocks they cull each year from the fields, but if we love them, as we say, we’ll have to understand that some things cannot be fixed or plowed over. If the past of my own kibbutz is anything to go by, a tight-knit community that loses 25% of its members to a massacre can be a group that struggles to overcome its collective trauma. Can we, as a country, challenge them to rebuild not in defiance, but to create something new for the next generation?

Because I’ll let you in on the kibbutznik’s secret. it is not their special ties to the land, but their ties to one another. If they succeed, this will be the secret of their success.

And the Thai workers? Let’s hope they get a heroes’ welcome from their families and friends at home.

Here is what I, personally find heroic: The family of every freed hostage, in the midst of their overwhelming joy, immediately calls for the release of every single remaining hostage.

The freed hostages, in their messages to the public, thank the country’s citizens for refusing to give up the fight to free them; they thank the families of fallen soldiers; they thanked Trump. So here is another secret: call it gratitude or humility; call it the understanding that you are a part of something bigger than yourself.

Let’s face it, young women and older kibbutzniks, they are setting an example for the rest of us. That includes standing together to refuse to let our government sell the lives of the remaining hostages up the creek. Bring them all home, NOW!

About the Author
Judy Halper is a member of a kibbutz in the center of the country. She has worked as a dairywoman, plumber and veggie cook, and as a science writer. Today she volunteers in Na'am Arab Women in the Center and works part time for Wahat al-Salam/Neve Shalom.
Related Topics
Related Posts