KIBBUTZ MANARA, Israel (AP) — Kibbutz Manara in northern Israel is so close to the Lebanese border that patrons of a local pub joke, with gallows humor, that the militant group Hezbollah could see if they were eating sunflower seeds or potato chips with their beers.
The proximity made Manara so vulnerable in the war between Israel and Hezbollah that rockets and explosive drones damaged the majority of homes, turning the tiny community into a symbol of the heavy price of fighting. The kibbutz's 300 residents were among the 60,000 Israelis evacuated by the government from communities along the Lebanese border during the 14-month war.
A tenuous ceasefire has largely held, though it was tested on Sunday as a 60-day deadline passed for Israel and Hezbollah to withdraw their forces from southern Lebanon. Health officials in Lebanon said at least 22 people were killed by Israeli fire when demonstrators attempted to enter villages still under Israeli control. Israel says it is committed to withdrawing but says the process will take additional time.
For now, residents of Israel's north are taking their time returning, uncertain when — or if — they will go back to shattered communities. Many wonder what future they can have in a place so exposed to violence. The vast majority of displaced families still haven't returned home.
In hard-hit places like Manara, some who have ventured back have found unlivable, blackened homes. It will take years to rebuild.
“We are trying to understand what we can fix, what we can do better, how we can prepare for the next round (of fighting)," said Igor Abramovich, who remained in Manara during the war and believes it's just a matter of time before fighting erupts.
All homes on the ridge facing Lebanon are destroyed, with gaping holes left by missile strikes or fires that burned so hot that cars partly melted. Because the kibbutz is so exposed, 70 meters (yards) from the border in some places, firefighters sometimes couldn’t respond to the blazes. Instead, the emergency squad was forced to watch on security cameras as fires burned.
Hezbollah began launching rockets and missiles toward Israeli border communities on Oct. 8, 2023, a day after the deadly Hamas attack that sparked the war in Gaza. Soon after, Israel evacuated dozens of towns, villages and kibbutzim along the border, including Manara.
In Lebanon, at the height of the war, more than 1 million people were displaced, and reconstruction will take years there as well. Piles of rubble that were once homes can be seen in towns across the border.
Hezbollah rockets killed 77 people in Israel, more than half of them civilians. No one was killed in Manara. Israeli air and ground assaults killed more than 4,000 people in Lebanon, including hundreds of civilians.
Israel made returning the displaced residents to their homes an aim in its war against Hezbollah and has promised incentives to entice them back. The return has been slow, in part because many residents are skeptical of the government's pledges to ensure their safety and because much work remains to rehabilitate communities.
Remote kibbutzim on the borders
Manara is prone to howling winds and snow usually once a winter, attracting a hardy, close-knit group of people.
Such remote kibbutzim were an integral element of the Israeli pioneer ethos, and Israel as a fledgling state once relied on them to protect its borders in the face of threats from neighboring Arab countries. Those threats appeared to have waned until Hamas attacked into southern Israel and Israeli authorities assessed that Hezbollah was planning a similar cross-border raid in the north.
The war was a clear reminder for Israelis that the country still depends on the border communities and needs to ensure their viability so that the country doesn't collapse toward its center.
Many in Manara are determined to return and restore their homes.
“It’s really a physical thing. They miss the air here,” said Orna Weinberg, 58, who has lived on the kibbutz her entire life.
Weinberg was displaced to a town about 45 minutes south, but she coordinated with the army and returned to Manara almost every day during the war, helping other evacuated residents who asked her to save photo albums, transfer the kibbutz’s archives or carry out other tasks to keep the community from falling apart.
Now she’s involved in coordinating Manara's rehabilitation, both physical and emotional. She and Abramovich spend hours walking through the kibbutz with appraisers for different government agencies to determine the financial losses and compensation. They also need to check the kibbutz’s infrastructure, including gas, water and electricity lines. All suffered damage.
The question no one asks
Out of 157 homes or apartments in the kibbutz, 110 were damaged, including 38 that were completely destroyed. In the part of Manara that faces Lebanon, all houses were destroyed. The ones facing the valley and the city of Kiryat Shmona are damaged but likely salvageable.
Abramovich said an initial estimate of rebuilding costs is at least NIS 150 million ($40 million).
“We’re having this weird discussion now, who has it better, someone whose house is partially destroyed or totally destroyed,” said Hagar Erlich, 72, whose father was one of Manara's founders and is living in a hotel in the city of Tiberias with other kibbutz members. It may be cheaper and faster to demolish and rebuild rather than renovate, she said.
The kibbutz is committed to reopening the nursery school by Sept. 1, convinced that if young families don’t return as soon as possible, the community's future is in danger, Abramovich said.
So far, none of Manara’s residents have announced they are leaving. The Ambramovich family — Igor, his wife and two daughters — will return in February, the first family to do so.
“It’s hard for people to say, ‘I’m not coming back,’” Erlich said. “We decided that we are not asking that question, not as an organization, and not as individuals.”
The community even wants to continue an expansion of 92 housing units that was planned before the war started.
Signs of life are reemerging.
In late December, 50 Manara residents gathered to work in the community garden, the hub of the kibbutz where they mark important celebrations and gatherings. The older members cooked a feast as children ran through the weeds and removed rocks from the garden beds to get them ready for new plants.
“It was the first time since the war began where I heard voices of people talking and chatting around here,” Weinberg said. “Whenever I think about that, that’s home.”
