Degania
Degania
The first group to be trained in Chavat Kinneret, the Kinneret Farm, left it
with the aim of settling a piece of land of their own. They founded Degania,
the first kibbutz, in 1910. While these young people farmed the land, they
also struggled with the question of their future, personal and national, which
for them were inextricably tied up.
These chalutzim (pioneers) faced a dilemma. Although they were still only
in their teens, they believed themselves to be the vanguard of the Jewish
nation,. working to restore a Jewish national life. Whatever the 'nation'
demanded of them, they would do; wherever the 'nation' needed them, they
would be. The pioneers took the burden of their people's whole history on
their shoulders. They felt that their task was to correct the faults of the past
and iron out the distortions that the exile had caused in the national
character of their people.
But how could they translate these soaring ideals into reality? The
chalutzim of Degania had decisions to make. They had dedicated their lives
to the needs of their nation. But what exactly did the nation need most?
Should the pioneers stay on the move, taking on one new project after
another, breaking new ground at each site and then entrusting the project
to others to continue? Was that what the nation demanded of them? Most
of them thought so, and envisioned a future of unlimited romanticism, of
constantly breaking new ground - both literally and metaphorically.
One boy, at least, stood against his comrades. "No - that's not what the
nation needs of us. That is the easy option," he said. "Always moving,
always seeking new paths - there will always be those who are ready to do
that. Our task is to give the people what it lacks more than anything else.
And that thing is roots. The Jew has been wandering for too long. It's time
he had a chance to rest. On his own land. In control of his own life."
This young man was Yosef Bussel. For two years, he argued against his
comrades, to persuaded them to stay in one place and to set down roots.
He finally convinced them in 1912. The group decided to stay and to live
out their lives in Degania. They moved into new houses that had been built
by the Zionist movement, and settled down to fashion a life based on their
ideals.
Through the daily attempt to live out their ideals in a new framework, the
settlers of Degania laid the basis of the new society which came to be
known as kibbutz. The kibbutz is a community based on total democracy,
where all decisions are made collectively by all members. The early
kibbutzim were based on the ideals of equality and self-labor, and reflected
the creativity which the chalutzim brought with them.
The founders of Degania, while building a new form of life, put great
emphasis on creating proper relationships, suitable for communal living. It
was not always easy. In 1918, shortly before his tragic death by drowning in
the Kinneret, Yosef Bussel penned a letter to a friend who had recently left
the kibbutz. In it, he indicates the struggle among the members to reach a
better understanding of one another - something that they considered to be
essential for group living:
My dear Gershon,
Already two weeks have passed since you left us, and this period
with everything that happened in it, has passed very quickly, really
without us being aware of it. These two weeks did not pass in a
regular fashion.
We had an asepha [communal meeting of all the members] a week
ago that continued from Thursday evening till Saturday night, with
only small breaks for food and rest. On Sunday again we met for an
asepha. Yes, an asepha like we haven't had for a long time....
The asepha made a very strong impression on all of us, even if it
made no concrete differences in our lives. We were trying to find out
from each other answers to questions of our relationship to the
meaning of life and to our future, to what we believe in. Everyone
spoke very intimately and personally, opening themselves up to
each other - we heard some very beautiful things indeed.
Nevertheless, on Sunday there was a difficult atmosphere and it
was almost impossible to go out and work. About six of us went up
to Moshe's grave and sat and cried as we talked. Hearts poured out
what had been stored in them for a long time.
A little before evening, we came back feeling slightly calmer and
called again an asepha for everyone and, after a beautiful
discussion, we decided to continue our weekly asephot on Shabbat.
On Monday, we went out again to work; this time full of energy and
enthusiasm.
Whole generations have passed since this letter was written - generations
of struggle, for the body and for the spirit. Throughout, the members of
Kibbutz Degania have tried to put abstract ideals and principles into
practice and to create a new way of life. The Degania of today is more than
70 years old. Some of the children you may see today on the lawns, are the
great-great-grandchildren of the founding members.
The Beginnings of Self-Defense
When the young chalutzim of the Second Aliyah came to Israel in the first
years of the century, they were determined that Jewish settlements must
be guarded by Jews themselves. The image of the Jew as a defenseless
individual always dependent on others, which had developed during
centuries of life in the Exile, would have to change. From now on, Jewish
settlements would no longer be guarded by local Arab horsemen. The Jews
would defend themselves.
Thus, in 1908, a group of the newcomers set up the Hashomer
(Watchman) Association to guard the settlements. Taking their job in
earnest, these shomrim (watchmen) proved, quickly and in no uncertain
terms, that the Jew could guard himself.
What a strange group of people the early shomrim were! Photographs show
them sitting calmly on horseback, richly decorated in a mixture of styles
and looking like a cross between a Cossack and an Arab. Indeed, they
perceived themselves as such: a mixture of the Cossack, the fighter that
some of them knew from their lives in Russia, and the Arab, whom they
saw as the incarnation of what their Jewish forefathers must have looked
like thousands of years before.
The watchmen often lived under very hard conditions, moving around from
place to place every few months, in accordance with the demands of their
jobs. Even for the most dedicated, it was a difficult life. But the shomrim
kept going, as they were serving an ideal in which they believed.
The first night I came to guard, I was told that guarding is not a joke,
and you must keep all your wits about you if you don’t want to get a
bullet in your head and meet sudden death. This was not the most
encouraging advice - but it was very much in the practical spirit of
Hashomer. And what's more - it was correct.
Guarding, especially in the Galil, was ready no joke, and every slight
lack of care could cost you your life. A person needed a lot of spiritual
resources in order to become used to the demands of the night-guard.
The nights were long, awfully long, full of splendor and beauty but also
full of ambushes, and danger from every side. The silence of night
became thickened with many different noises of animals, reptiles and
insects, the rustle of leaves and grasses, and all of them mixed
together forming a strange and threatening harmony.
The twinkling of stars up above, and the glimmering of fox's eyes
down below, and you, alone and lonely. And you have no idea whether
behind that looming rock there is not an enemy who has managed to
hide, and if the next step won't be your last. The responsibility you
have as a guard for those souls exhausted from their day's work,
sleeping their sleep, confident in your watchfulness, brings down upon
you great courage but also great tension.
After a long circuit around the boundary of the settlement, you come
with great relief to a secure corner to take a breather, and you feel
how good it is to lay against a stone knowing that a bullet cannot reach
your back. You think with sadness of home, and the pain you have
caused your parents. You see the laces of your loved ones in the night
before you. Your thoughts wander to the rooms of your parents' home,
full of warmth and love. How good it was there ... and suddenly a
noise! You clutch the rifle to your chest, listen hard and peer into the
darkness. A small animal scuttles across your path and then, again,
silence. Another moment of rest before you 'sail' out again on another
long and tiring circuit.
Sometimes, I dream of leaving this life, and returning to work the land.
But I hear, time and time again, the words of the leader of Hashomer,
Israel Giladi, ringing in my ears. '(Many will be found to work the land.
But only a few to guard. There is too much danger - but what will our
work in Israel be worth, a we continue to rely on others to guard us?
We have to take responsibility for our own security." That is what
Giladi had told me, and he was right. Our lives and property were at
the mercy of others.
Yitzhak Oz
After a few years, some of the shomrim decided to establish a settlement
for themselves, and groups of the shomrim and people close to them
prepared to 'settle down' during the last days of the First World War. In
1916, they established Kfar Giladi in the extreme north of the 'Galil Finger,'
the long narrow projection of land at the north-east corner of the country.
Towards the end of the First World War, it became increasingly clear that
the Ottoman Empire would fall. The British and French, who had allied
during World War 1 and were two of the great European imperial powers,
saw a chance to extend their influence and control over territory which the
Ottomans would surely lose. Thus, during the war, the British and the
French signed a secret agreement dividing spheres of influence in the
Middle East. But when the agreement became a reality at the end of the
war, the line dividing the two spheres separated the Galil Finger from the
rest of Eretz Yisrael, leaving it in the French controlled area while the rest of
the country was under British rule.
The French, in fact, never gained full control of the Galil Finger, for the local
Arabs began to fight against them. The Arabs accused the Jewish
settlements of being in league with the French, despite the settlers'
repeated declarations that they were completely neutral in the struggle.
Bands of Arabs began attacking the four Jewish settlements in the area,
including Kfar Giladi and Tel Chai, in 1919.