The young people, the elders would and do say, have lost the pioneering spirit. By this the older generation means that the country's youth have tried of leading lives of rigid discipline, though danger seems as near as ever.

Driving through the Negev at night is like driving anywhere. The darkness obscures the rocky, barren plain that stretches out from the road, and it is impossible to see the rough peaks that rise sharply from the flat desert surface. It's just you and the highway, and the road could be the New Jersey Turnpike or a quiet strip in the country.

But at some point on this road you will be stopped by flashing lights. A solidier will walk up to you and command, "You must wait here until a convoy comes to escort you. Terrorists are active in the territory ahead." And so you are reminded again that the road is in Israel.

"Terrorism" is not the first word one would seize upon to describe Israel. Yet in a country most often characterized by a paradox and change, terrorism is one of the few constants. It is not particularly widespread, and one might think that Israelis would have little trouble going through a day without thinking about it. But they all do. Anything that happens to one Israeli because he is an Israeli affects the entire country.

The people of Israel are proud of this phenomenon, and the government is continually cultivating this no-man-is-an-island attitude. A short documentary on life on a Kibbutz was making the rounds in Tel Aviv during the summer. As documentaries go, this one was exciting. The early scenes of mine detection in plowed fields and men going to work with rifles at their sides led to the expectation that something momentous was about to happen. The terrorist attack by night ensured that the expectation was fulfilled. The purpose of the film, according to a young Israeli, was to let the people of the city know what it was like to live in the presence of danger.

As a result of such films and of newspaper accounts of actual events, the response to terrorism is nationwide. It is not unusual, anywher, to discuss individual personalities in terms of an intricate balance between fear and security, but the Israelis have taken that balance and have collectivized it. The people know what there is to fear, and military exhibitions, paratroop drops on the beaches of Tel Aviv, and the preponderance of soldiers provide the necessary feeling of security.

The citizens of Israel live this balance. In a country inhabited by people of such diverse origins, it is a powerful unifying force. But the balance is constantly being threatened by the forces of change within the country.

In early June, the kibbutz youth of the country gathered for a two-day conclave at the base of what used to be the Syrian Heights but is now called the Golan Heights. All young kibbtuzniks belong to a national movement of kibbutz youth, which holds four meetings a year to discuss the goals of their mode of living. The affair has all the trappings of a boy scout jamboree.

During one of the discussion sessions, a young kibbutznik of 16 or 17 rose and walked over to the banks of the Sea of Galilee, away from the rest of the group. Although reticent at first, he seemed eager to answer questions about his family, life on his kibbutz, and the movement in general.

"What is your group discussing?"

In mock-seriousness he replied, "Thev're discussing whether or not the movement should be continued."

"And what will they decide?"

"If thev're honest, they'll say 'no.'"

"Why?"

"Because the movement is too..."