Two years after the war with Hezbollah devastated Manara, a small kibbutz perched on Israel’s northern border with Lebanon, dozens of families have returned to the scarred landscape – and new ones are arriving with a determined sense of purpose – to help rebuild what was lost and forge an even stronger community from the ruins.
On October 8, in the immediate aftermath of the escalating conflict, the IDF ordered the kibbutz’s 300 residents, including elderly people, pregnant women, and families with young children, to evacuate immediately, leaving only the emergency response team and the military presence behind to secure the vulnerable border position.
The scale of destruction that unfolded over the following months was staggering. “Over the duration of the war, about 70-75% of the kibbutz was destroyed by rockets, drones, and sniper fire,” Moran Kurland-Vaserbali from the Tozeret Haaretz organization explained.
The damage wasn’t isolated to a few structures. “The entire southern neighborhood was hit. Around 100-120 people [were] left with no homes. Completely gone. How Manara is built... when one building gets hit, the blast wave damages the rest. Rockets also hit the children’s houses, community buildings, and management offices,” she told The Jerusalem Post, explaining the comprehensive destruction that touched every corner of the small community.
The physical layout of the kibbutz, with buildings in close proximity designed to foster community, made it all the more vulnerable to attacks.
Once the area had been declared safe to return, following extensive security operations and clearance procedures, about 60% of the residents made the difficult decision to come back, with Kurland-Vaserbali stating she was the first to come home, leading the way for others who would follow in the subsequent weeks and months.
Challenge facing Manara includes reimagining a community
The challenge now facing Manara is not just repairing damaged structures but also reimagining and rebuilding an entire community infrastructure from the ground up.
Currently, modular housing is being built in an expansion neighborhood to accommodate both returning families and newcomers, complete with safe rooms built to withstand rocket attacks, new infrastructure, and community buildings that will serve as the heart of the revitalized kibbutz.
The financial and logistical support network has been crucial to making this reconstruction possible. “We have support... from the state, the regional council, and lots of donors from the US and Australia,” Kurland-Vaserbali said, acknowledging the international backing that has made the ambitious rebuilding effort viable.
“Everyone understands the urgency, because the damage was so severe that rebuilding will take years.”
The timeline ahead is daunting, with estimates suggesting it will take around five years to fully restore what was destroyed in just months of conflict. But the community’s vision extends beyond mere restoration.
Manara doesn’t just want to go back to how they were. They want to come back stronger than ever, with a renewed sense of purpose and an expanded population. That’s why Tozeret Haaretz, an organization dedicated to supporting young, pioneering Israeli communities throughout the country, is helping bring a new life to Manara through strategic outreach and comprehensive support programs.
The campaign is explicitly targeting new families: couples, young parents, even singles, anyone drawn by a mission.
“Our goal is to bring people who want meaningful community life,” Kurland-Vaserbali told the Post. “We had nearly 120 inquiries from just a few Facebook posts.” She explained that many who visit on tours fall in love with Manara’s serene high-altitude setting, describing it as “900 meters above sea level, cool air, snow in winter … a bit like Jerusalem, but without the traffic.”
Beyond idealism, there are incentives: grants, housing subsidies, scholarships, and support for entrepreneurs and teachers. “It’s not just about returning; it’s about building something new,” she said. Living on the Lebanon border means constant tension. Kurland-Vaserbali explained that today, the kibbutz runs regular security drills, and there is a permanent emergency squad.
“I came back while pregnant, with a two-year-old and a three-month-old. We were among the first to return, even while streetlights were still out,” she said, adding that seeing the military activity instills a sense of confidence in the community.
“As long as the IDF is operating inside Lebanon, as long as we hear military activity, we know the enemy is being handled. The political and military leadership understands that October 7 cannot repeat itself,” she said.
For many, returning to Manara isn’t just about going home or reclaiming property; it’s a mission with national and even existential significance.
“If we aren’t here … our neighbors really want this land. But we’re not giving it up,” she said. She described life in Manara as more than communal, calling it a moral duty that transcends ordinary civic responsibility: “It’s beyond a mitzvah … this is a frontier that must be held.”
Rebuilding in Manara, as well as Tozeret Haaretz’s comprehensive efforts to expand the community and attract new families, reflects a broader trend visible across Israel’s periphery. After our seven-front war, Israelis have been returning to border towns across the country, even ones that suffered devastating losses comparable to or exceeding what Manara experienced.
“Today’s generation of young people is not willing to stand on the sidelines. They are searching for an effective way to take responsibility for the future, to build, and to be a part of something greater than themselves,” Shay Ilan, co-CEO of Tozeret Haaretz, said.
“Tozeret Haaretz was initially launched with that in mind, from a place that believed in the power of community to change reality. The partnerships we have built with kibbutzim like Manara and with the Kibbutz Movement and Chevron are based on a similar belief in the power of young people. This shows that these young communities are not only a social prerogative but also a prime example of taking responsibility on a national level.”