Where are the Charedim?

There they are! I see some in Zaka. Tsadikim. And in Mada, and in Hatsala. Wonderful.

But where are the rest?

We knew where the dati leumiers were. On the front lines. The people from the south were licking their wounds, counting their dead. The people of the north were in hotels all around the country. The Israelis in Chul were sleeping at airports trying to get home to join their brothers in the trenches.

The extreme left, many of them were coming back to somewhere in the centre. Tens of thousands of disaffiliated Jews were and are finding their way back to Jewish identify. But where were the charedim? In the country’s greatest time of need, where were they? As I heard from a soldier whose words broke my heart,

“I was always okay with them doing their thing because I believed that if the day came when we truly needed them, they would show up. Shoulder to shoulder. But they didn’t.”

Where were our brothers who had promised to keep us safe with their learning? Where were they?

Me. I’m a romantic. I watched all this movement both in Israel and in the Diaspora with wonderment. In war itself, the tremendous unease I had felt prior to Oct 7th was finally being replaced with hope. What a nation we are. People have turned to Hashem, turned to one another.

I had heard the idea that unity will happen when the soul of the country, represented by those building spiritually will combine with the body of the country, those building the physical infrastructure. It was hard for me to imagine this happening in a country with such diametrically opposed priorities. But we do need each other. We don’t have to be uniform to be unified. We have to come together with appreciation for our differing and necessary contributions. Rainbows bring seven colors together to create one light.

And yet. We were only six. One chunk was missing from this shift toward the other.

Where were the charedim?

My hope for unity was an equation with a missing number. I couldn’t reconcile how we would do our job to bring light by uniting over mission with such a big missing piece.

So where were they?

And it took a lot of very compassionate thinking for me to understand.

Some of course were busy causing disruptions at demonstrations. I don’t care for the fringe. The noisy ones are rarely the majority. It was not them that concerned me. I was preoccupied not with the hoodlums, but with the every day, hard working, Gd fearing, good people. And this was my conclusion.

They were waiting for permission.

This is a society that has been taught from inception that you take the steps you are granted to take. It’s very identity and fabric is woven on a premise of following instructions. An obedient Gd fearing community whose willingness to follow rules has been somewhat exploited has been waiting for its leadership to give it orders.

But the orders never came.

Of course, there is a time in life to stop waiting for permission, to stop being so obedient.

I’m not arguing that this war wasn’t the time for that. I think it was. But I can get my rational mind around understanding why a community of thousands, who work in packs and herds, were waiting for the call. The call that didn’t come.

Until now.

You’ll say it’s a bit late. That in the meantime others have given hundreds of days to this country. You’re right. But not entirely. It takes generations to effect changes in any social demographic.

It’s only been three years (even if they do feel like forever) and the change is happening. And fast. When they look back on history, this pivot will be viewed as fast. It just feels slow in real time when you’re waiting for it to happen.

And all it took was for someone to say Go.

That’s all that ever needed to happen.

There’s a new party on the block. Hatsibur Hacharedi. It’s a party from within. A party that has been paying attention and listening and watching and it’s saying Enough!

Enough with the choking and the bullying. Enough with the threatening. Enough with the the misrepresentation of the desires of the people: To be a part of. To belong. To be considered worthy and to have earned that consideration. To truly be a Charedi Israeli.

This once minority is now a majority. This fledgling community is now fully grown and will finally speak its mind or at least have its mind spoken by those in authority, and no longer be cowered into submission.

The charedim are slightly late to the party, but they’re running to get there. Running to support the voice that finally represents their position. Pass the threshold? I wouldn’t be surprised if they more than pass it. The proof of the pudding will be in the counting.

And they will finally stand shoulder to shoulder with the rest of the rainbow, so we can, at long last,  merge into one light and together, bring that light to the Nations as we were charged to do.