Draft Evasion Is Not the Holocaust

There are a handful of subjects that make it difficult for me to remain calm. Not because I am unwilling to hear opposing views, but because some comparisons are so morally distorted that treating them as ordinary political rhetoric gives them a legitimacy they do not deserve.

My father survived the Shoah.

That history is not an abstraction in my family. It is not a chapter in a textbook, a slogan for a demonstration or a metaphor to be pulled out whenever someone wants attention. It is part of our inheritance. It shapes how I respond when young people march through Western cities and accuse Israel of committing genocide. It also shapes my reaction when someone claims to know that the Shoah occurred because Jews sinned. Such certainty is not faith. It is sanctimony masquerading as theology, as though any human being could claim to understand the ways of G-d or explain the murder of six million Jews.

And it is why I am enraged when Haredi politicians and activists compare the arrest of draft evaders to the persecution of Jews during the Shoah.

Eliakim Stark, a United Torah Judaism candidate, reportedly told a campaign gathering that the fear of arrest for evading military service was “close to what happened during the Holocaust.” He then added that it was “better to be a terrorist.”
These words are not merely offensive. They are obscene.

Jews during the Shoah were not arrested for refusing to fulfill a civic obligation in a Jewish state. They were stripped of their rights, driven from their homes, robbed, starved, deported and murdered because they were Jews. Children were sent to gas chambers. Entire communities were erased. There was no Jewish army to defend them, no Jewish government to negotiate with and no Jewish court to hear their claims.

A draft evader in Israel may face arrest after refusing to serve in the army of the country that protects him, his family, his neighborhood and his yeshiva. Whatever one thinks of Israel’s conscription laws, comparing their enforcement to the Shoah is a grotesque falsification of history.

Mr. Stark’s statement that it is “better to be a terrorist” is equally appalling. Terrorists deliberately murder civilians. They shoot families, bomb buses, fire rockets at residential communities and take hostages. Israeli soldiers risk their lives to stop them. Some do not return home. Others return with injuries that will shape the rest of their lives.

To suggest that a terrorist occupies a morally preferable position to a Haredi draft evader is an insult to every soldier standing guard while the rest of us sleep. It is also an insult to the victims of terrorism, including Haredi victims.

Mr. Stark’s rhetoric does real damage. It encourages alienation from the state while demanding that the state continue to provide protection, infrastructure, healthcare, education and financial support. It tells young Haredim that participating in the defense of their fellow Jews is a form of persecution rather than a shared responsibility.

I do not write this as someone hostile to the Haredi community or to Torah study. Years ago, I was a student in a Haredi yeshiva. In our beit midrash, soldiers were welcomed into shiurim. Those among us who enlisted were supported, not shunned. They were understood to be what they were then and remain today: Giborei Yisrael, heroes of Israel.

I still learn every day. I believe serious Torah study has immense value, and I support exemptions for exceptional students who are genuinely devoted to sustained learning. A Jewish state should make room for scholars whose work preserves and strengthens our religious tradition.

But that cannot mean that every young man registered in a yeshiva is automatically treated as an indispensable Torah scholar.

I regularly pass several prominent yeshivot and often see students standing outside for long stretches. Of course, I cannot judge an individual from a passing glance. Students need breaks. Learning is demanding. Appearances can mislead. Yet we all know there is a difference between protecting a small group of gifted, committed scholars and creating a sweeping exemption for an entire sector of society.

That distinction must be faced honestly.

Israel does not need every Haredi recruit to become an infantry soldier. The IDF has countless roles that must be filled: intelligence, logistics, technology, medicine, administration, communications, search and rescue, and support for soldiers and their families. Civilian national service can also meet urgent needs in hospitals, emergency services, schools and welfare organizations. With care, flexibility and goodwill, frameworks can be designed to respect religious observance while allowing Haredi citizens to contribute more fully to the country we share.

And it is our country. Ours!

Not the secular public’s country. Not the national-religious public’s country. Not the Haredi public’s country. Israel belongs to all of us, which means its burdens cannot indefinitely fall on only some of us.

Haredim need the rest of Israeli society, and the rest of Israeli society needs Haredim. We need their commitment to family, community, charity and Torah. They need the economic, military and civic institutions sustained by the broader public. This interdependence should be the foundation of a healthier relationship. Instead, politicians exploit fear and grievance because division wins votes.

My education taught me that Jewish survival depends on our willingness to make room for one another. We need a large tent, not one divided into hostile camps. But a large tent is not the same as a tent without standards. Membership in a society brings obligations as well as rights. No group can demand full protection while declaring itself exempt from nearly every shared sacrifice.

Our tradition teaches that baseless hatred contributed to the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash. That lesson should not be used as another slogan. It should force us to ask whether our words unite Jews or turn them against one another.

Comparing Israeli law enforcement to the Shoah does not protect Torah. Calling terrorists morally preferable to draft evaders does not strengthen the Haredi community. It desecrates memory, deepens resentment and tears at the bonds holding Israeli society together.

Mr. Stark and those who speak like him face a choice. They can help build a shared Jewish future, one rooted in Torah, responsibility and mutual respect. Or they can keep inflaming a politics of separation.

The tent must be broad enough for all of us. But anyone determined to set it on fire cannot be surprised when others refuse to hand him the matches.