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DECEMBER 2, 2021 | The Jewish Home OCTOBER 29, 2015 | The Jewish Home
Israel Today
A Miracle on Israel’s Borders By Rafi Sackville
T
he existential threat of Covid-19 has not only turned us inward looking, but somewhat stifled our ability to view the glass as half full. As we gaze at our Chanukah candles this year, it is worthwhile remembering that oil always floats to the top; it represents hope and optimism. It is the symbol of our will to persevere through difficult times. Our story involves the vision of Tira-El Cohen, a remarkable young woman, whose indefatigable energy has brought such hope to the very places in Israel where, over the course of the last few years, it has almost vanished. Like the Maccabees, she has stood resilient in the face of adversity and has turned her vision into a miracle. We traveled north from the Western to Upper Galil. The trip took longer than we planned; there had been activity in southern Lebanon and the army had chained the approach roads that led up to the border. We traveled around in a circle for half an hour before chancing upon a shortcut through Yishuv Yiron. We were on our way to meet Chen Makover, a 23-year-old student and a member of Kedma, the organization Tira-El founded. Its goal is to revitalize our border settlements. Chen could be at college or university in any of Israel’s big cities. Instead, she chooses to study at Tel
Tira-El Cohen on the cover of Forbes “30 Under 30”
Hai Academic College, close to the Lebanese border in Northern Galil. Along with another 18 students she lives on Kibbutz Misgav Am (Fortress of the People). Chen and her friends don’t live on the kibbutz because of cheap housing or due to the kibbutz’s close proximity to the college. They are, in fact, like all members of Kedma, typical post-army students who came to the kibbutz where they pledged, among others things, to volunteer 300 hours of community work a year. From the lookout at the kibbutz one has an extended view of the Hula Valley to the southeast and Lebanon to the north, where on a clear day Tyre, its second largest city, is visible. Dotting the Lebanese village just north of the fence are scores of what appear to be empty houses. It is known that they provide hiding places for Hezbollah arms and that those who live in the basements of these are well-aware. Chen and her friends have become a vital cog in assuring the survival of the kibbutz. It is feasible that without them Misgav Am would succumb to Israel’s border communities’ most vexing problems: a dwindling and aging population coupled with the flight of its younger generation. Founded in 1945, the average age of Misgav Am’s members is over 70.
The hopes of it continuing Zionist dreams had been crumbling over the last few decades at a quickening pace. After the kibbutz privatized, there was a downturn in the internal economy, which left the strategic outpost financially vulnerable. Misgav Am is one of many yishuvim dotting Israel’s borders in the north, south and the Jordan Valley, where students have come to make a difference. The genesis for this idea can be traced back nine years to the actions of one remarkable young woman. Tira-El Cohen was 19 years of age and doing National Service when she heard about Maaleh Ephraim, a settlement in the Jordan Valley facing difficulties. Once a magnet for people from all walks of life, it had become emasculated after the Intifada. Residents either traded their idealism for safety or left if they had the means. The once-thriving community had been reduced to a wasteland. It was while studying Journalism in Tel Aviv that Tiara-El connected with Maale Ephraim after falling in love with the Jordan Valley. “I saw a view of an amazing wilderness,” she recalls. “This wilderness evoked in me the desire to act and create. It’s a wilderness so full
of potential and creation. This was my first insight into that wonderful space.” Seizing the opportunity, she met with the council at Maale Ephraim, requesting permission to upgrade their abandoned field school. When she mentioned that her only hesitation was leaking roofs in the winter, she was told it was the stifling summer heat they had to worry about when temperatures can daily reach well over 100 degrees. Using the budget from Israel’s Ministry of Housing, they purchased some air conditioners to fight against the Valley’s oppressive heat and set about organizing a student migration to Maale Ephraim. Tiara-El sent out a post on her Facebook page announcing that she was off to live in the Jordan Valley to strengthen and support those living there. “Hundreds replied,” she says with palpable joy in her voice. “How wonderful is this generation of ours!” Today in her late 20s, Tira-El oversees a large staff which has successfully placed hundreds of students in yishuvim from Misgav Am in the north of the country, Rimonim and Mekhora in the Jordan Valley, to Nir Oz in the south. The eldest of eight siblings, Tira-El gets her unbridled enthusiasm from her parents, who made Aliyah as teenagers from France to serve as lone soldiers in the army. Tira-El speaks about the philosophical approach of their love and responsibility to the Land of Israel. These echoes permeate the ideology Tira-El has brought to Kedma. She could be talking about her parents’ generation when she says, “We all have a role in the Zionist story because we are privileged to be part of a generation that has returned home.” Growing up with such role models Tira-El searched for her own place within the dream of Zion. “I wanted
