“Hezbollah is a better soldier than Hamas – we could be next”: RICHARD PENDLEBURY reports from one of Israel’s most strategically vulnerable communities

Uria Goldman smiles wryly. “I know it sounds crazy,” he says, “but my wife will not return to the kibbutz unless we wage war against Hezbollah.”

“This situation must be resolved once and for all; not for six months or a year, but for 50 years, so that our children can live in peace.”

The 36-year-old father of three was selling kitchen appliances until October 7th. His community, Kibbutz Ma’yaan Baruch, was home to more than 700 Israelis who grew crops, raised livestock and hosted urban tourists seeking to experience nature.

Today the settlement is a mixture of ghost town and besieged military camp. The yoga studio and kindergarten are closed, as is the Museum of Prehistoric Man. Barbed wire has been unfurled on lush lawns, shooting ranges with sandbags have sprung up on street corners, and Mr. Goldman no longer cares about sinks or washing machines.

Instead, he is armed with an assault rifle and patrols the otherwise deserted California-style neighborhoods in a golf buggy. The words “Volunteer Tactical Team” are written on the back of his T-shirt.

Besieged: Uria Goldman discusses the “situation” at Kibbutz Ma’yaan Baruch with Mail journalist Richard Pendlebury yesterday

People stand by as civil defense forces search for victims and survivors in the rubble of a building hit by an Israeli bombing raid in Rafah, southern Gaza Strip, on Tuesday

Richard Pendlebury met Idit Stein (pictured), the mother of a six-year-old boy, who explained why she and others had to leave Ma’yaan Baruch. She said: “Our home is close to the Lebanese border, just 500 meters, so it has become part of the situation.”

This dystopian new “situation” – a word heard again and again in Israel today – is local.

Ma’yaan Baruch lies at the foot of the long-disputed Golan Heights, in a finger of Galilee between the Lebanese and Syrian borders. Founded in 1947, Ma’yaan Baruch is one of the most strategically vulnerable communities in the country.

When Hamas terrorists overran and massacred a number of kibbutzim near the Gaza Strip on Oct. 7, residents here and in other northern border communities saw the writing on the wall. The pressing question was: If the small and relatively straightforward Hamas group could wreak such bloody mayhem, what could the more formidable, Iranian-backed Hezbollah, sitting on the other side of the kibbutz border fence, do?

Faced with this existential threat, there was only one option: immediate evacuation.

Aside from Mr. Goldman and the 30-member local citizen militia, or reservists, mobilized into the army, the entire population of the kibbutz and several others in the surrounding Hula Valley now live as refugees in hotels and resorts around the Sea of ​​Galilee.

There I had met Idit Stein, the mother of a six-year-old boy, who explained why she and others had to leave Ma’yaan Baruch. “Our home is close to the Lebanese border, just 500 meters away, so it has become part of the situation,” she said.

Uria Goldman smiles wryly. “I know it sounds crazy,” he says, “but my wife will not return to the kibbutz unless we wage war against Hezbollah.” Pictured: Civil defense attorney Uria Goldman with Richard Pendlebury

Uria Goldman is armed with an assault rifle (pictured) and patrols the otherwise deserted California-style neighborhoods in a golf buggy. The back of his t-shirt says “Volunteer Tactical Team.”

Ma’ayan Baruch near the Lebanese border in northern Israel, which was evacuated

“When it all started I felt very insecure. That Saturday my husband was drafted into the army and I was left alone in my house with my son. I was thinking about whether the terrorists can go to Be’er [a kibbutz next to the Gaza Strip, where 110 residents were slaughtered by Hamas] and that is two kilometers from the border [Hezbollah] can definitely come here.

“The next morning I took my son and drove to the center of Israel to see my parents. Two days later, on October 10th, [the government] “We evacuated our entire kibbutz here.” She says they only brought the clothes they were wearing. They are happy to be safe, but there is also a lot of uncertainty.

“We don’t know when or how we will return home,” she says. “Some of my friends are wondering if they ever want to go home again.” How can you live without security and worry that someone will break into your house in the middle of the night and take your child?

Hezbollah is said to have an arsenal of 150,000 rockets, which are more precise and powerful than those of Hamas. The fight against Israel came to a halt in 2006 after three Israeli soldiers were killed in a cross-border raid. Since October 7, the group has limited itself to sporadic rocket, mortar and artillery fire on Israel. It has not yet committed to a sustained blitz or ground war in support of Hamas.

Israel has reportedly killed more than 40 of its fighters. Expecting the worst, the border areas were cleared of civilians.

Ma’yaan Baruch (pictured) lies at the foot of the long-disputed Golan Heights, in a finger of Galilee between the Lebanese and Syrian borders. Founded in 1947, it is one of the most strategically vulnerable communities in the country

Mr. Goldman and his colleagues offer us coffee in a makeshift bunker at the entrance gate. The IDF has reinforced the area, but civilian soldiers are under no illusions about the threat they face. In the absence of the army, citizen militias suffered the brunt of the Hamas attack on October 7

As we speak, a warning sounds over the radio. Mr. Goldman and his colleagues grab their weapons and put on their body armor. A roar can be heard above us. We were informed that armed intruders had been spotted in the Shebaa Farms area, on the high ground that dominates the kibbutz. We have to leave and later learn that the intruders were “neutralized” by an Israeli drone

To reach Kibbutz Ma’yaan Baruch, we travel through the town of Kiryat Shmona, which is a few kilometers from the Lebanese border. The 20,000 residents were evacuated south.

Mr. Goldman and his colleagues offer us coffee in a makeshift bunker at the entrance gate. The IDF has reinforced the area, but civilian soldiers are under no illusions about the threat they face. In the absence of the army, citizen militias suffered the brunt of the Hamas attack on October 7. “We could be next,” Goldman says. “What happened in the south could happen here.” We know that Hezbollah is better soldiers than Hamas and is only a few hundred meters away. But this is my home and I have to defend it.”

As we speak, a warning sounds over the radio. Mr. Goldman and his colleagues grab their weapons and put on their body armor. A roar can be heard above us. We were informed that armed intruders had been spotted in the Shebaa Farms area, on the high ground that dominates the kibbutz. We have to leave and later learn that the intruders were “neutralized” by an Israeli drone.

In the south, Gaza is burning. In the north the war is only smoldering. But the kibbutznik idyll could be gone forever.