To My Chareidi Family with Love
Since the acceptance of a tenuous ceasefire between Israel and Hamas in October 2025 life in Israel has gradually returned to normal. Israelis, for the most part, no longer go to sleep thinking about their Maimad (safe room). Students have returned to their classrooms, and the Universities are functioning with mostly full classes. Demonstrations advocating the return of the hostages stopped when the body of Ran Gvili (זצל) was returned and buried in his birth land. Despite the drop in tourism and the cost of the war, the economy remains strong, and the shekel is at a 30-year high. Indeed, this is the land of miracles.
Lurking in the background are the age-old tensions between various stakeholders in Israeli society. The other night I was traveling with two cousins on the way to a family gathering. Somehow the show Shtisl arose in the discussion. Quickly, the discussion deteriorated into a tirade against the secular media’s portrayal of the Chareidi (ultra-orthodox) community. “The secular medium never misses an opportunity to make the Chareidim look bad”. “When I walked into a supermarket during COVID I was treated as if I were infected”. “I could feel the hatred that the chilonim (secular Israelis) had for me”.
I was shocked by the outburst and by the deep-seated emotion and passion of my cousin. It gave me cause for reflection and ultimately led to this OpEd.
My family is Dati Leumi (National Religious); having come from America, one would categorize us as “Modern Orthodox”. Our children and grandchildren either serve in the IDF or do national service (Sherut Leumi). While we are anxious when they are in Gaza or Yehuda and Shomron, we are proud of them and their willingness to serve their country. We are very close to our chareidi brother and sister-in-law, our nieces and nephews and cousins, both in Israel and America. They are family and we love them. Therefore, it disturbs me that these wonderful human beings feel hated when they pass by secular Israelis in the street or bump elbows in a supermarket.
When I tried to reason with my cousin I was told “ I have lived here for 40 years, you are a recent Oleh, I know what I am talking about”. Hard to argue with a vatikah (veteran) from the position of a rookie. So, I asked myself, do the secular Israelis hate the ultra-Orthodox, and if so, why?
Various polls in Israel taken recently indicate that a significant percentage of secular Israelis are angry at the ultra-Orthodox. They are upset by the perceived imbalance in service required of them and their children and that required of Chareidi children. They are angry that they pay high taxes while many chareidi families receive financial grants and benefits from the State. Some of them feel that their lives; marriage and divorce are unfairly controlled by a religious system they do not support.
On the other side of the scale, the ultra-orthodox and many in the dati leumi camp feel that Israel cannot succeed if it is not tied to traditional Torah values. They sincerely believe that success on the battlefield reflects the hand of G-d and that Torah learning insures G-d’s munificence. Moreover, the chareidi community contributes money, food, time and social services to those serving in the IDF. Despite the low numbers of Chareidi soldiers in the IDF many, if not most in the ultra-Orthodox community support the IDF. My cousins often tell me how they pray for our chayalim (soldiers) and dedicate their learning to the welfare of our soldiers. These are not mere platitudes they sincerely believe they are HaShem’s army and that their prayers and Torah save our soldiers’ lives.
Our son-in-law, a Nahal (a premier elite infantry) brigade machine gunner, served in Gaza for nearly a year and missed most of his wife’s pregnancy with their first child. While he was serving, a young Chareidi picked his name off a list and began learning every day in his honor. After finishing his service, this fighting soldier began learning one-on-one with this young ultra-orthodox Jew, who almost certainly will never serve in the IDF. My grandson-in-law experienced difficult battles in Gaza. He has conveyed stories of many “miracles” that saved him and his Nahal comrades. He attributes some of these miracles to the learning of the serious, committed Torah scholar who is his chareidi partner. He has no difficulty with the fact that he had to serve in the IDF while the boy sat and learned. By sharing time together, two Jews with different life styles are bridging gaps. But, and this is a big but, not everyone of the tens of thousands with yeshiva exemptions are serious and committed learners.
Two segments of Israeli society see the same picture through their own prism and come to very different conclusions. Unfortunately, this is due to the self-imposed segregation of the secular and ultra-orthodox camps. For the most part and with some exception Jews, especially in Israel, live in religiously homogeneous neighborhoods. Since many ultra-religious men lack secular education and have limited job opportunities, they have no interaction with their secular counterparts at work. They certainly have scant contact in the army. Thus, these two major tribes within the Jewish nation have almost no direct communication.
How do they know what to think about each other? Verbal missives often emanating from political leaders of the ultra-orthodox and secular communities are transmitted to each side through the media. As has been true since the advent of yellow journalism in the late 19th century, media thrives on sensationalizing stories. With the creation of 24-hour news stations, listeners are confronted with the most extreme views of the opposite camp. The media is devoid of nuance and seeks to highlight differences. A tragic outcome is that many secular Jews think that the ultra-orthodox are a monolithic group that are all against the State of Israel. The ultra-orthodox conclude that they are hated by anyone who is a non-chareidi. Until there is more face-to-face time between the different religious cohorts the misunderstandings will continue.
Many reports are appearing wherein chareidi youth are protesting induction into the army. Sometimes these protests become physical and violent. Protesters block streets. Drivers become frustrated and do the unfathomable and run into protestors. The police intervene in this impossible situation and are criticized by both camps. I cringe when I think of young Jews with white shirts, beards and black hats threatening and chasing female soldiers who were trying to do their duty. I am outraged when they call our soldiers and the police Nazis. At the same time, it hurts me to see the police hit these protestors with batons or spray them with tear gas.
Why was my cousin so upset about Shtisl, whereas I and many of my modern orthodox friends enjoyed the show? In retrospect it is because as a non-Chareidi I do not feel stigmatized by the stereotypes portrayed in Shtisl. The large majority of Chareidim do not seek the public eye. They do not want to be pictured as people who are obsessed with food, with smoking and with preventing their family members from being contaminated by interaction with secular Jews. The Chareidim I know are very good people, with excellent values, who work hard to raise their children and to maintain Jewish continuity. I can feel hurt that that my children serve the State of Israel whereas their children do not. Maybe, sometimes, I even feel some anger. Hatred, however, is not in the picture.
Given demographics and the needs for a strong army, Israel may not survive if there isn’t an equitable solution to the problem of national service. Many in the Chareidi world know that their future and the future of Israel require more enlistment in the IDF. They and their leaders must come to grips with the dichotomy of Chareidi life in a Jewish state. It is incumbent on the Chareidi Rabbis and the members of the Knesset to come up with laws that will allow ultra-orthodox Jews to contribute to the physical security of Medinat Yisrael while maintaining their traditions. Vitriolic speech, name calling, and animus should not be tolerated. With good will and HaShem’s guidance, an acceptable solution can be crafted. Until then, our chareidi brothers and sisters should know that our love for them is strong and remains undiminished.
