Ein Gedi: An Israeli oasis

On January 10, 1956, Zalman Shazar delivered an enthusiastic oration during the groundbreaking ceremony of the new kibbutz. A group of youths from the “Shdemot” unit, imbued with faith and vision, made their home there in a few huts in the middle of nowhere, but propelled by a dream: To found a settlement on the shores of the Dead Sea.

Since the day of its establishment, the founders of Ein Gedi fought countless difficulties against all odds: Distance, isolation, massive boulders, arid soil, and the challenge of building something out of nothing.

During the summer months there was no way to escape the oppressive heat, and in the winter a short downpour could flood the whole settlement and cut the settlement off from access roads. But the settlers came up with creative improvisational ways of dealing with the flooding, from crawling on the water pipe that stretched over Arugot River, to using heavy off-road vehicles and helicopters, to riding on the boat affectionately dubbed “Shach-Shach.”

In 1959 Ein Gedi residents relocated from their initial site by the Arugot River to the plateau at the feet of Mount Tzroya.

Distance became a cultural asset

The births of the first children on Ein Gedi were a celebration for the community, and the infants “belonged” to everyone in the small community. What others called “a challenging tour for strong walkers,” the children of Ein Gedi called home. Their trips were to the Arugot and David Rivers; in the summer they dangled their feet in the Shulamit Pool, and when they were a little older, they visited the Ein Gedi Spring. For them, two stirring experiences were the paving of a road leading south in 1965 and a trip outside the kibbutz – which often took days to complete.

The oppressive climate proved to be a fantastic asset for farming, and later for tourism. The famous Ein Gedi tomatoes infiltrated the market months before tomato season, and the rest of their vegetables weren’t far behind. Kibbutz members toiled in the vegetable gardens, cleared fields, planted, weeded, harvested, and so on.

As early as 1953, the outpost’s economic coordinator, Yoram Yavor, proclaimed that the settlement had phenomenal potential as a tourist attraction: Unique climate, a wild historical landscape, greenery in the midst of the desert. The discovery of thermo-mineral water influenced the settlement’s economic development, and a guest house and later a spa were founded. The income from tourism “dried up” a great deal of the agricultural pursuits. Today, Ein Gedi continues its agricultural activities, growing fields of date palms, mango trees and various herbs. 

The combination of the landscape, nature, and youthfulness of the members gave the place an aura of desert romanticism. What is more romantic and Zionist than a wedding ceremony at the David River pool? What method of courtship is more poetic that a moonlit walk between the rose beds beneath Mount Yishai?

The disadvantage of Ein Gedi’s distance became a cultural asset: Ein Gedi mined every creative talent of each of its member and created a rich cultural existence. Ein Gedi also established one of the country’s first emergency rescue teams.