Its setting, in the rolling foothills of the Lower Galilee overlooking the Eshkol Water Reservoir, is positively soothing. Its lifestyle, as the only kibbutz tied to Israel's Masorti (Conservative) Movement, is unique. Life should be good on Kibbutz Hanaton, which is eager to grow and develop its resources. Instead, its members find themselves locked in a lonely struggle to preserve the religious flavor of their collective home. They fear they will soon be outnumbered by a group of young Israelis who want to join the kibbutz but are of a very different spiritual bent - unless other Conservative Jews from around the world come to reinforce their ranks. Their problem is genuine and heartfelt. Its solution, however, is complex.

Hanaton's chief enemy is demography. Established in 1984 by 25 rabbis and cantors who had graduated from the Jewish Theological Seminary of America, it was bolstered soon thereafter by a group of Israelis from the Masorti Noam youth movement and immigrants mostly from the Americas, bringing its membership up to a high of 47. Today, however, its roster has dwindled to 16 members, who hail from Israel, the United States, Chile, Australia, India and South Africa. Add on their kids and you reach a population of 32 souls. Economically, the picture is not much brighter. The kibbutz still owes the Jewish Agency 9 million shekels ($2 million) for the costs of its establishment, and is not fully covering its operating expenses with the income from its 500-cow barn and two chicken coops (both run in partnership with other kibbutzim), organic grapefruit grove and educational center, which hosts groups from around the world.

What does remain strong, say its members, is their commitment to the observance of Judaism. While it's not always possible to put together a minyan for a Shabbat-morning service, they admit, all the Jewish holidays are celebrated through a traditional prayer service, the mikvah (ritual bath) is operational, the dining room is strictly kosher and the kibbutz runs on a Shabbat clock. "But most of all, it's the little things that show religion is an integral part of our lives," says American-born Shari Abraham, 48, a soft-spoken mother of four who has been on Hanaton since 1987. "We discuss it at meals. We try to study together. Not everyone practices Judaism to the same extent," she adds. "But whatever individuals may do in the privacy of their homes, no one ever violates the sanctity of Shabbat or the holidays in public, by lighting a cigarette or discussing work issues or even playing music loud enough to be heard outside."

Now, the members fear, the essential flavor of their lives will be destroyed, if the United Kibbutz Movement (known by its Hebrew acronym, Takam) has its way. For not only have they lost control of their own destiny, says 53-year-old Reuven Samson, who was born on the Orthodox Kibbutz Shluhot and settled in Hanaton with his American-born wife and five children in 1988. "We're being subjected to Bolshevik tactics by the Takam, which is bent on turning Hanaton into a Labor-movement kibbutz stripped of its religious ethos. The only way we can survive as a Conservative community," he stresses, "is by getting an infusion of new members dedicated to our lifestyle."

On that point there is general agreement between the Masorti Movement and the Takam. On the Takam's desire to "hijack" Hanaton for its own purposes, there are conflicting views. The fact is that in 1997, after its membership had dropped below 25, Hanaton agreed to be financially managed by the Takam. But it has been grievously critical of that management, describing it as either patently incompetent or deliberately designed to drive Hanaton into the ground, leaving it ripe for a takeover by the secular kibbutz movement.

Zeev Shor, the general secretary of the Takam, admits that there have been "problems in communication" between its appointed managers and the kibbutzniks but firmly rejects the notion of a Takam campaign to wrest control of Hanaton as "sheer nonsense." "I have nothing but admiration for the Conservative movement," he declares repeatedly. "It's an important force in the Jewish world, and I want to preserve the special character of Hanaton. I only wish the Conservative movement were able to bring its people to live there," he stresses. "But it has failed to do so, for many years now, and you can't sustain a kibbutz with only 16 members."

Rabbi Ehud Bandel, until recently president of the Masorti Movement in Israel, is candid about its failings in this sphere. "Regretfully, we arrived at the idea of kibbutz settlement too late," he says. "By 1984, the entire kibbutz movement was well past its heyday, and although we tried to draw more people to Hanaton, it was always a difficult task."

Until 1997, the Masorti Movement did send Hanaton settlement groups from its youth movement, Noam. They spent the last year of their military service in the Nahal Corps on the kibbutz, and the hope was that some of them would decide to become members. That didn't do the trick, however, and the last Noam group even left Hanaton in the middle of its stay and went to another kibbutz. Bandel says that since then, the Masorti Movement has had qualms about the ability of its youngsters to pursue a religious lifestyle in such a small community. "If it's impossible to put together a minyan on Shabbat," he says, "we're less inclined to send our youngsters there. We face a real dilemma," he admits, "because we truly want to help Hanaton, but it's hard to place this responsibility on the backs of 18-year-olds."
Beginning in 1997, the Takam decided to pick up the slack by sending settlement groups from Labor's youth movement, Hanoar Ha'oved Veha-lomed (Working and Studying Youth), to help populate Hanaton. For the past two
and a half years, 28 Hanoar Ha'oved graduates, who had completed their army service and are now in their early 20s, have been ensconced on the kibbutz. But their presence and intentions there are a bone of bitter
contention.

"They're wonderful young people, and they're doing fabulous work in the surrounding area," says South African-born Joann Tanchum, 43, who has been on Hanaton for eight years and serves on the board that manages it, referring to the educational programs the group is running, especially for children in the nearby Arab and Jewish towns. The problem, complains Samson, "is that they don't agree to work on the kibbutz itself, and are essentially using Hanaton as a hostel, without even paying rent for the rooms." As a rule, adds Abraham, the group tends to keep to itself, does not take part in Hanaton's social life - and certainly not in its religious life.

Shor says that the Takam has made it clear to these young people that the condition for becoming members of Hanaton is that they work within the kibbutz's economy - and that they've pledged to do so. But when he personally conveyed this commitment to the members of Hanaton, he reports, "there was still a degree of opposition."

Clearly, adding 28 young, secular members to Hanaton would place the present 16, most of whom are in their 40s, in the minority. And that, says Samson, is exactly the Takam's design for conquering, and changing, Hanaton. The only way to block it, he and other members say, is for the Conservative movement to send in fresh forces: young singles and families, from Israel and abroad, who will join the kibbutz or at least settle in the new neighborhood of private homes being built directly adjacent to it and actively participate in the kibbutz's activities. In the meanwhile, they hold, Hanaton can redress its economic ills, and even create new income-bearing outlets, through responsible management

But the clock is ticking on Hanaton's future. Bandel says he has reached an understanding with Shor that the Conservative movement will be given a year and a half
to recruit new members for Hanaton from
its followers in Israel and abroad. It is also considering sending a Noam group there next year. And during this period, Bandel adds, the members of the Hanoar Ha'oved group will not be proposed for membership. Shor, however, is noncommittal about freezing the group's status, saying only that this is one of the issues to be addressed as part of future "dialogue and confidence-building measures."

One way or another, though, it does seem clear that the ball is in the Conservative movement's court. If it can rally its congregants to shore up Hanaton, body and soul, the kibbutz will be able to fulfill its raison d'etre. If it fails at this effort, Hanaton will undoubtedly go on - but not as a community of Conservative Jews.

More Money Woes
Rabbi Ehud Bandel is now former president of the Masorti Movement in Israel because his job was eliminated last June as the result of a severe cash crunch. "During the best of times, our annual budget ran between 13 and 15 million shekels ($3-3.5 million)," says Irit Zmora, the movement's chair. "Now it's down to 9 million shekels, and we had to decide what to forgo."

The main cause of the shortfall, says Bandel, was a sharp drop in donations to the Foundation for Masorti Judaism in Israel, a special fund in the U.S. whose annual contribution to the Israeli movement fell from $1 million in the early part of the decade to $257,000 last year. He credits that reversal to the "wild competition in fund-raising" by the various components of the Conservative movement in America - including the United Synagogue, the Jewish Theological Seminary and the Solomon Schechter day schools.

When forced to decide on how to downsize, Zmora explains, the Israeli movement chose "to concentrate on developing our 50 congregations, boasting 5,000 members, along with Noam, Camp Ramah and the Bar/Bat Mitzvah program for children with special needs." For the meantime, it has put aside the lobbying and legal efforts to guarantee full equality to the non-Orthodox streams in Israel, which was essentially Bandel's mandate. But there are pitfalls in this choice. Citing demographic forecasts showing that "next year Israel will become the largest center of Jews in the world, and will essentially be able to determine who is a Jew and what Judaism means," Bandel laments that the Masorti Movement will no longer serve as a "vanguard in the war" to guarantee religious pluralism in Israel, leaving that role to the Reform movement alone. "If we don't enhance our public influence here, the Jews will become two peoples, without a common denominator," he warns.

The Jerusalem Report, September 5, 2005 issue