A time to lower the temperature

What price Jewish brotherhood?

It was a rare commodity at the quinquennial WZC which I attended last month as a delegate. And it is scarcely visible amid the ongoing Charedi draft debate, an issue which I would like to address here from both sides of the divide.

There needs to be a drastic lowering of the temperature, a willingness of each side to understand where the other is coming from and to compromise.

It does not help when chiloni (secular) activists call yeshivah students “parasites feeding off the state”. It is utterly beyond the pale when a prominent chiloni declares, “Charedim who refuse to serve don’t deserve to live!”

But it is also indefensible when a Charedi radical declares, “I would rather die than serve in the IDF!” and when Charedi spokesmen provocatively declare “It’s the yeshivahs, not the IDF, that is keeping Israel safe.”

It is nevertheless evident that the Charedi community has legitimate concerns. Up until very recently, the IDF have done little to accommodate the religious needs of Charedim and there is still much to be done. The leaders are fearful that young Charedi men will become secularised as a result of the army. This is partly due to an insular attitude which fails to furnish its youth with not only the ability to withstand secularist influence but also the tools to propagate to their secular peers that a Torah lifestyle is vastly more satisfying than a secular lifestyle.

It is not sufficiently widely known or acknowledged that many Charedi young men do, in fact, serve in the IDF. There is a Charedi battalion, Netzach Yehuda (formerly known as Nahal Charedi), part of the Kiryati brigade, as well as the newly-formed Hasmonean Brigade. More and more young Charedim are volunteering of their own accord.

In my view, real matmidim (Torah students of exceptional diligence) ought not to be pulled away from their Gemaras even at this time – provided they are as single-minded about their learning as soldiers are about defending the country. This I would apply not only to the Charedi community – there was no separate super-Jewish stream of bnei Yisrael at Mount Sinai – but any young Torah luminary from the dati le’umi or baal teshuvah community as well.

As for those many who are not in that category, certainly those Charedi youth who are idling their time away, my firm belief is that they ought to be performing some sort of national service. To them can be applied the verse: “Shall your brothers go to battle while you stay at ease here?” (Deut 32:6)

However, there needs to be dialogue and a willingness to listen. On both sides.

The stand-off between the secular and Charedi communities was never more evident than during the atzeret, the prayer vigil held at the entrance to Jerusalem which drew up to 300,000 participants. Were the organisers of the vigil sufficiently mindful about the extent of the disruption to normal everyday life, not to mention essential services, that they were causing by blocking the entrance to Israel’s capital city for an entire day?

But at the same time, did the secular camp have any inkling of the depth of feeling that was expressed in the prayers, cries and liturgical chants that were uttered that day?

I was caught right in the middle. As a WZC delegate, I was housed at Hotel Yirmeyahu, the epicentre of the vigil. We were supposed to be holding our closing plenum sessions that morning, but as access to the International Convention Centre was impossible for most delegates, the proceedings had been brought forward to the previous evening. As a result, a pilgrimage south to the sites of the October 7 massacre as well as morale-boosting interactions with soldiers that had been planned for us had to be cancelled.

At the same time, holed in as I was at the hotel without the possibility of egress, I was able to make my way to the fourth-floor balcony where we had a spectacular view of the myriad throngs of black and white below. I cannot deny that I was palpably moved by the sound of hundreds of thousands of men and youth crying out in unison Shema Yisrael and HaShem Hu HaElokim as though it were Yom Kippur. For many of the participants, that is how they saw it.

I have a Charedi daughter and son-in-law in Ramat Bet Shemesh of whom I am very proud, as well as eight, wonderful, impeccably-brought-up grandchildren. I also have a nephew and nieces who gallantly serve in the IDF. I can see both sides.

Israel needs a gadol supreme, a giant of the spirit, to be able to mediate between conflicting strands of Israeli society that threaten to tear each other apart and achieve what Hamas couldn’t. And seeing as these past two years of conflict since the Simchat Torah massacre have been graced with many miracles, and because I believe in miracles, I live in hope!

Rabbi Chaim Ingram OAM is a Sydney-based educator and author.