Why We Won’t Pay Anymore

The most emotionally fraught, misunderstood, and ineffectively addressed issue in Israeli society is the question of Haredi military service—and more broadly, the Haredi community’s relationship to civic responsibility. For decades, the state has economically supported a separate civic compact: exemption from military service in exchange for full-time Torah study. Though originally framed as a temporary arrangement in Israel’s early years, it has calcified into a permanent condition.

Most Israelis rightly find this situation unacceptable—but the reasons why are often poorly articulated. At the heart of the issue is the Haredi community’s insistence on a position that is both unconditional and inequitable.

Let us begin with what is often misunderstood: the Haredi community does not view itself as shirking national responsibility. On the contrary, it sincerely believes that full-time Torah study is not only a legitimate form of national service—but the highest form. In their worldview, the yeshiva is a frontline of defense, safeguarding the nation as much as, if not more than, any military unit or civil institution.

The first mistake is to debate the metaphysical validity of that belief. That argument is both distracting and irrelevant to the core societal issue. What matters are the practical consequences and implications of the Haredi position.

The problem is not that the Haredim believe their contribution is valid. The problem is that they are only willing to accept this form of contribution and refuse to share or distribute it within any equitable framework. In their eyes, this service is not one option among many—it is the only option. They propose no framework for how many full-time learners the nation needs, nor do they allow others to share in the task. It is a unilateral demand for exemption, not a negotiated contribution.

Meanwhile, this same population expects and receives services from the state—including extensive financial support that enables this separation from civic obligations.

Like any cohesive society, Israel is built on shared responsibility. Whether one serves in uniform, in hospitals, in education, or in agriculture, all citizens are expected to contribute in some way. When one segment of the population insists that they alone can define what counts as national service—and that they will not participate in any other way—they reject the very principle of civic equality.

This is not merely a cultural difference. It is structural inequity.

Worse still, this inequity is financed, almost completely, by public funds. Billions of shekels flow annually to yeshivot, stipends, segregated school systems, and welfare programs designed not to lift people out of poverty, but to preserve a system of state-supported separation. This is not social support for the needy. It is an entrenched economic injustice.

To be clear: this is not a call for coercive conscription. That approach has repeatedly failed. You cannot force someone to join a mission they believe they are already fulfilling. Forced service will only increase resentment and deepen the divide.

But neither can we continue to fund a population that refuses to acknowledge the inequity it perpetuates. The only fair and democratic solution is to condition economic support on equitable civic participation.

We must make it clear—to ourselves and to all our elected representatives—that this situation can no longer be financed with our tax money. If politicians want our support, they must commit to ending state funding for any community institution that refuses to share national responsibilities. No rhetoric, no theological debates, no empty speeches about fairness—just clear, ongoing policy to cut public funds from Haredi entities that serve only to perpetuate separation.

This means ending automatic stipends for full-time yeshiva students, and gradually eliminating public funding for yeshivot and community organizations that operate solely to maintain this inequitable arrangement. It also means reevaluating eligibility for individual support: those unwilling to serve in any form—military or civilian—should lose access to public stipends. That’s not punishment. It’s simply accountability.

And yes, this may increase economic pressure in Haredi communities. But the solution is clear: any individual who wishes to receive support can opt into other forms of national service—hospitals, schools, ambulance corps, or welfare services. Those who decline can find alternative, private means of financial support. No one is stopping them.

Some in the Haredi world do recognize this injustice and have chosen to act differently. They deserve respect—but they remain exceptions. The broader communal policies remain unchanged and largely unchallenged. Highlighting a few positive examples should not distract from the broader issue.

Public money must reflect public values—and the value we must insist upon is simply civic equity.

This also means we, as private citizens, must act accordingly. We must stop donating—directly or indirectly—to institutions that support this system. That includes yeshivot, community organizations, or proxy causes like weddings or holiday drives that help sustain the infrastructure of separation and inequity.

Of course, we must ensure that no one goes hungry. But food can be provided directly to those in genuine need—without funding the institutions that uphold and entrench this unjust structure. The real danger is not that such a proposal is “too extreme,” but that our continued acceptance of the status quo is steadily corroding the social contract.

If left unaddressed—as appears to be the position of the current government and many public officials at all levels—this inequity will lead to deeper disillusionment and eventual national division. The current arrangement is economically unsustainable, socially corrosive, and morally indefensible. It has persisted for decades, but we are finally beginning—if only through individual action and advocacy—to confront it through measured and equitable economic policy.

The Haredi community can, of course, continue to insist that full-time Torah study is their sole form of service. However, they must bear the economic cost themselves. Those of us who reject this self-defined model of civic duty will no longer fund it.