Ties shift between secular, religious Israelis
War pushes some ultra-Orthodox to serve in military
BNEI BRAK, Israel — In a neighborhood of Jerusalem, ultra-Orthodox Jewish residents cheered a soldier returning from military service. At a religious seminary, similarly devout students gathered to hear an officer talk about his military duties. And at a synagogue attended by some of the most observant Jews in the country, members devoted a Torah scroll in memory of a soldier killed in the Gaza Strip.
The Hamas-led attack on Israel has prompted flashes of greater solidarity between sections of Israel’s ultra-Orthodox Jewish minority and the secular mainstream, as fears of a shared threat have accelerated the integration of some of Israel’s most insular citizens.
As the war drags on in Gaza and Israeli reservists are called to serve elongated or additional tours of duty, long-simmering divisions about military exemptions for the country’s most religious Jews are again at the center of a national debate.
But now, in the wake of the deadliest day of attacks on Jews since the Holocaust, parts of Israel’s rapidly growing community of ultra-Orthodox Jews, known in Hebrew as Haredim, are reconsidering their role in the nation’s fabric. Unusually high numbers have expressed support for or interest in military service, according to polling data and military statistics, even as the vast majority of Haredim still hope to retain their exemption.
Since Israel’s founding 76 years ago, Haredim have had a fraught relationship with their secular neighbors, in part because of the benefits the small ultra-Orthodox community was guaranteed around that time in an agreement between religious and secular leaders.
Unlike most Israelis, for whom military service is mandatory, Haredim are exempt from conscription to focus on religious study. They also receive substantial state subsidies to maintain an independent education system that eschews math and science for the study of Scripture.
As the number of ultra-Orthodox Jews has exploded — to more than 1 million people today, roughly 13% of Israel’s population, from about 40,000 in 1948 — those privileges and exemptions have led to resentment from secular Israelis. Many Israelis feel that their own military service and taxes provide physical protection and financial reward to an underemployed community that gives little in return. Secular efforts to draw the ultra-Orthodox into the army and the workforce have angered many Haredim, who see army service as a threat to their lives of religious devotion.
The army may ultimately come for some Haredim whether they like it or not. The government of Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu faces a looming deadline to either extend their exemption or begin to include them in the draft.
The decision, which pits some Haredi lawmakers against such secular officials as Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, who wants to increase Haredi involvement in the military, threatens to bring down the governing coalition.
“The security challenges facing us prove that everyone must bear the burden, every sector of the population,” Gallant said in a speech last week.
Polling shows that the Israeli mainstream is keener than ever to force Haredim to enlist, particularly with a growing number of soldiers returning from battle in Gaza and questioning the absence of ultra-Orthodox on the front lines.
But beyond that standoff, some social divides are being bridged rather than widened.
Some of the most striking consequences are occurring within the more outward-facing parts of Haredi society, according to polling data, Haredi experts and even some of their harshest secular critics.
Nearly 30% of the Haredi public now supports conscription, 20 points higher than before the war, according to a poll conducted in December by the Haredi Institute for Public Affairs, a Jerusalem-based research group. Nearly three-fourths of respondents said their sense of shared destiny with other Israelis had intensified since Oct. 7.
“We see some change within the Haredi community,” said Avigdor Liberman, leader of a nationalist party that has long campaigned to end Haredi privileges. “They understand it is impossible to continue without participating more in our society.”
Incorporating more Haredim, a conservative population, into a modern military includes its own set of challenges, such as addressing sensitivities involving men serving alongside women. Yet, more than 2,000 Haredim sought to join the military in the first 10 weeks of the war, a tiny proportion of the serving army but two times the group’s annual average. More Arab Israelis join the army than do the ultra-Orthodox.
Most of Haredi society, however, has resisted such interactions.
In Bnei Brak, a city east of Tel Aviv that is considered Israel’s ultra-Orthodox capital, rabbinical leaders remain unmoved by calls for Haredim to serve in the military. Within Haredi communities, many fear that the fabric of their insular life would begin to fray if men were forced to skip the full-time study of Scripture.
“The way to help is to study Torah,” Meir Zvi Bergman, one of the most revered rabbis in Israel, said during a rare audience with journalists from The New York Times. “No one can give up on the Torah.”
Some Haredi leaders, however, have hinted at a change in mindset.
Yitzhak Goldknopf is a Haredi government minister and the leader of Israel’s second-largest Haredi political alliance. In his government office, Goldknopf sat surrounded by images of the hostages, many of whom are young women. It was a striking juxtaposition in a society where pictures of women, even in advertisements, are often omitted for fear of upsetting ultraconservative sensibilities.
Goldknopf broke the rules of the Jewish Sabbath for the first time Oct. 7, he said, when he was summoned from synagogue for an urgent Cabinet meeting. It was also the first time he had been to Israel’s military headquarters. As the officials viewed early images of the carnage, Goldknopf said, a fellow Cabinet minister broke down in tears.
“It changed me a great deal,” he said, explaining that it hardened his attitude toward Palestinians. “I thought the world was falling apart.”
Now, Goldknopf is prepared to concede that some Haredim can join the army — the ones who aren’t likely to make it as Torah scholars.
Then he paused the interview to proudly show off a photo of a soldier on his phone. It was a picture of his nephew.