Kibbutz

The rockets that hit a cow shed here marked the latest bitter blow against a community already struggling to survive. For this farming collective five miles from the Lebanon border, the attack last week, which killed more than two dozen cows, raised new worries about life ahead for the troubled kibbutz, and others like it in northern Israel.

The kindergartens are shuttered now, the young families mostly a memory. Along the rolling paths of this once-lively farming community, the prevailing hush gives way now and then to the hum of motorized carts favored by some of the oldest residents, who carved a collective home here nearly 60 years ago. The factory where the kibbutz used to build electric fans is silent except for the flapping of rafter birds. The community can no longer sustain itself on dairy cows, chickens and crops.

An Israeli toilet paper factory did something unprecedented recently: It fired a lazy worker. The move was remarkable because the factory is owned by Kibbutz Snir, one of Israel's celebrated collective communities founded on the principle of guaranteeing work to all members and providing for all their needs.