Spitting and Shouting into the Wind

This is not about the draft. I leave that to the politicians.

This is not about who’s right and wrong about the draft. The debate on that topic has drifted far afield from the core issues. This is about decency according to the holy words of our Torah.

Our sages tell us: ”Do not say things that shouldn’t be heard, because in the end they will be heard”. (Ethics of the Fathers 2:5) And in most cases, those words will cause hurt, disgrace or worse. 

 In the last few years I have seen the Jewish people protest against one another almost as often as they protest against our blood thirsty enemies.  There is an ebb and flow to the protests and the news cycles, and it is difficult to remain emotionally unaffected and intellectually detached.  

My husband and I moved to Israel in June, 2023, a time of great fissure of our nation that spilled onto the streets, mostly in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem.  My soul was breaking, even as I reveled in fulfilling a life-long dream.  

At times, I would travel on a bus that would pull over at an unscheduled spot. The driver would instruct all passengers to get off.  He could not travel the rest of the route due to protests and we were on our own in reaching our desired destinations.  

Trying to get my bearings, at times I walked right into the protests.  The dress of the protesters telegraphed which Jewish or political faction they were from, but the facial expressions of the “good people on both sides” were the same.  As the police and/or border patrol tried to keep order and disperse crowds, I had a front row “seat” to a live action horror movie of brother on brother violence.  On one of my forced walks home, I ended up very close to a truck spraying strong streams of water, and skunk spray at the protestors

I resolved that if I felt comfortable and was welcomed, I would attempt to deliver my messages of Ahavat Yisrael (loving our brothers of Israel) in my little corner of the world.  While our Shabbat learning group hashed out issues about how to give people the benefit of the doubt, what to do when you really are angry at someone, and whether one is truly required to love everyone, peoples’ prejudices came to the fore.  We worked through sources, and attempted to help each other in workshop style.

But one issue wouldn’t and couldn’t go away: the religious exemptions for army service and the anger and vitriol lobbed from all sides. For the first few sessions, we discussed that there is a halakhic and hashkafic basis for the  decision not to draft. But eventually, comments veered to “the things they do, like not even saying good shabbos” and I pushed back.  Eventually I requested that this type of conversation move ahead, only if someone has a constructive suggestion, and then we could focus our emotions and energy on  implementing the ideas. Alternatively, If the conversation is about preaching to the converted, and receiving support for how wrong “they” are and how much “they” are hurting us, then that discourse should stop.  It only foments sinat chinam (baseless hatred). 

Yet one friend’s story gnawed at me.  Her son was in Gaza, in the service part of his hesder (a joint army and yeshiva learning program, that spans 4-5 years of total service).  Due to his particular skill, he was asked to extend the required army time.  He spoke to various advisors, and his parents promised him that his learning time could be extended as he wished. He decided that if this nation needs him to serve, he will answer the call.  Soon after he agreed, the army extended the time of all the soldiers who were in that unit for another four months.  And my friend said, “All he wants is ‘shivti b’veit Hashem’ to sit in God’s house and learn”.  A few days later she sent me an erev shabbat picture of him.  He was in full tactical gear, due to the nature of what he was doing, his helmet at his side.  A mosquito net covered his head while he was reviewing the weekly Torah portion. His mother shared that the July heat was causing heat rash, and the mosquitoes were relentless.  And she wondered if there will be someone to fill his spot, when he is released from service.

I spent weeks thinking about this.  During the blazing August heat, many Israelis create beautiful family vacations, while at the same time, many 18 year olds have their first appointment at the draft office.  A large portion of these draftees are religious Yeshiva boys, many of whom join the “Beinish” (Bnei Yeshiva) units So while many enjoyed the limited (due to the war and travel restrictions) but fun options available, our soldiers, new draftees and Miluimnikim, continued their dangerous service. Religious affiliation, political opinions, life events and pre scheduled trips abroad did not factor in to our soldiers’ response.  When they received their marching orders, they marched.

And as the Knesset members debated if the draft exemptions would continue, and all types of deals were suggested, some of our Rabbinic leaders directed their followers to ignore their draft notices, to assault Haredi young men on their way to the draft office and to block streets. I saw pictures of the sweetest 13-14 year old yeshiva boys being pushed and shoved at protests by the army and police. These teens were protesting their need to learn instead of drafting, at the behest of their Rebbeim.  It is a bit ironic that their rebbeim sent them to protest against the draft by having them leave the beis medrash during their learning time.

Additionally, some diaspora rabbis of importance, erudition and influence were compelled to voice their anger and inspire their diaspora students to act.

I have been raised to value the words of Gedolim (Rabbinic leaders) and assume that their scholarship, kindness and vision bestow upon them reasoning that I don’t possess.

The straw that broke the camel’s back for me was following Kol Koreh https://www.rationalistjudaism.com/p/torah-vs-daas-torah)

 announcing a prayer gathering/protest in Lakewood.

The list of signatories is a star lineup of some of the most brilliant and pious rabbinic leaders of the Diaspora Orthodox community.  The announcement contained words like “Merusha” and “reshaim” ((the lowest of the low evil doers) to describe the Israeli government and IDF. The document stated ‘The prayers to God at our rally, should include requests to be saved from “their” horrible army that seeks only to obliterate our Torah way of life.’

I read it again and again. Is it possible that some of the names of signatories were used without consent?  If so, shouldn’t those rabbanim issue a statement? And then I wondered-

 Where was the prayer that the war should end? 

 Wouldn’t that stop this problem, at least in the short term, and keep our brothers and sisters safe?

I spoke to someone from the city of Lakewood, who said that most of his community ignore these missives. He told us that the attendance at this particular rally was expected to be terrible and the organizers called a few of the boys’ schools to have their students leave the beis medrash and participate in this very important rally, so that the signatories could save face.

“Hmm”, I thought.

“Well, isn’t that brotherly?  Isn’t that loving?  Isn’t that principled?”

And the answer, shouted by partners who stand day by day next to their paraplegic spouses, and tired grandparents who, while mourning, must also do carpool, and pregnant widows, and widows who had not been wives long enough to have a child and now had to endure the halitza ceremony, is NO!!!

IT IS NOT ENOUGH!!!

It is not enough to ignore, and assume that a public brouhaha can be avoided, because these words were read and absorbed.  They were read or were heard by Bnei Torah in their IDF uniforms, and by their families, and by the people sitting in mourning tents (provided by the army) who can find no words of comfort to say to the new group of 6 or 8 or 10 orphans. And their wounds of grief, and pain and brokenness have been drowned in the salt of callousness;  not because they are mad that some people aren’t drafting, not because they feel unappreciated, but because their brothers  are silent while some leaders assault them with despicable words. 

My charedi brothers, my sisters, my bungalow colony friends, people who spend every waking moment thinking about other people’s needs,: someone has to stand up and say NO, not only can we not speak of our brothers whose blood has soaked the north and south, who sit learning under mosquito nets. We refuse to even hear it.

My rebbeim and community leaders, can you meet with the Moetzes Gedolei haTorah?

(Heaven knows that I will no longer get an appointment.)

I can’t be silent anymore

The comments that are made, and possibly meant to stay within certain walls, travel to our ears, and each one is painful.

Yes, I am aware of the thousands of acts of kindness and chesed done by the Haredi community for all Jewish communities, Yet I hear comments like these (These are actual comments I heard myself, or read in various places)

Question “Am I  allowed to cook for soldiers?” (ouch)

Question“‘Is it proper to thank soldiers?’

Answer: do you thank the garbage men?” (whoa)

“Who do you think these people that went to Nova were?” (And your point is…)

“You see that the shomer shabbat kibbutzim were safe!” (How about all the Thai workers murdered and the innocent cattle butchered at Kibbutz Alumim?)

I have resisted this type of public discourse, because I was fearful of what others would say, but I speak out now because there is nothing left to fear of leaders and their followers who can close their eyes, cover their ears and harden their hearts from considering the  the dead, the broken, the widows and the orphans and their followers who certainly know the missive of “shtika, k’hodaa” That  saying nothing, is also saying something.   It is also deafening.

For interesting perspective I am linking to the entire mishna quoted above..

Chapter 2 Mishna 5

פרק ב משנה ה

Hillel says: Do not separate yourself from the community.

Do not believe in yourself until the day of your death.

Do not judge your fellow until you are in his place.

Do not say something that cannot be heard, for in the end it will be heard.

Do not say, “when I will be free I will learn [Torah]”, for perhaps you will not become free.