Tablet Magazine There’s an oft-repeated story of David Ben-Gurion, Israel’s founding
prime minister, paying a visit in the 1940s to Avrohom Yeshaya Karelitz,
known as the Chazon Ish, a prominent Haredi rabbi living in Bnei Brak.
The Chazon Ish, it is said, took off his glasses so he wouldn’t have to
properly see the socialist interloper, after which they got down to the
business of figuring out what the role of the ultra-Orthodox would be in
the new Jewish state.
The Chazon Ish quoted a story from the Talmud to make his point. When
two wagons (or camels, in another version of the story) meet on a
narrow mountain pass, who shall give way—the “full” wagon laden with
goods, or the “empty” wagon? The rabbi’s point couldn’t have been
clearer: He expected the “empty” wagon of secular society to defer to
the “full” wagon of a religious tradition spanning millennia.
As is well-known, Ben-Gurion granted the small ultra-Orthodox
community in Israel an exemption from army service in order to
rehabilitate the Haredi “community of scholars” of Eastern
Europe wiped out during the Holocaust. Ben-Gurion, it’s believed,
predicted that the ultra-Orthodox community would slowly disappear
anyway, melding into the assertively modern Zionist project. The
opposite, however, has happened. This “community of scholars” numbered
400 in 1949. Today the figure for exemptions among army-age
ultra-Orthodox men is estimated at 50,000.
Finance Minister Yair Lapid and many other Israeli politicians are
now intent on reversing Ben-Gurion’s edict, spurred on by a Supreme
Court ruling early last year that declared the Haredi draft exemption
unconstitutional. Many of Lapid’s campaign slogans, like “Equal Service
for Everyone,” squarely targeted Haredi Jews, who comprise 10 percent of
the Israeli population, about 800,000 people, and 15 percent of the
Israeli Jewish public. In mid-April, in his first speech as finance
minister, the charismatic but untried politician entered into a heated
exchange from the Knesset podium with the ultra-Orthodox caucus. “You’re
pushing yourself into a corner,” Lapid said [1].
“No one hates you. The only thing that happened is that you’re not in
the [governing] coalition. It’s called democracy. … I don’t receive
orders from you anymore, and the state doesn’t take orders from you
anymore. We’re done taking orders from you.” [...]
Yet the ultra-Orthodox, for the most part, don’t seem interested in
the proposals currently being floated by secular politicians. In
mid-May, a demonstration took place in central Jerusalem outside the
main army conscription office. An estimated 30,000 ultra-Orthodox men
took part, and events quickly spiraled out of control. Rioters threw
rocks at security personnel and lit trash cans on fire; nearly a dozen
police officers and demonstrators were injured, and several arrests were
made. It was seen as the opening gambit in what could be a summer of
serious internal unrest.
The most interesting aspect of the demonstration, however, was the
fact that it was organized by an extremist, Jerusalem-based faction of
the Lithuanian Haredi movement. Rabbi Shteinman and his moderate
faction, which greatly outnumbers the extremists, refused to
participate. It seemed that, despite the rhetoric, there was still some
hope of striking a peaceful compromise.
Israel’s political class is hoping that the difficult socioeconomic
conditions of the Haredi community will be the prime motivator for the
necessary changes. “The No. 1 daily problem—not talking about the coming
of the Messiah—but day-to-day problem for the Haredis, is making a
living,” Brig. Gen. (ret.) Meir Elran, one of Israel’s foremost experts
on military-social affairs, told me recently. “They need to see that at
the end of the process they’ll be able to make a living. It’ll be the
only thing that convinces them—they don’t care about the army, or
Zionism, or the state. They care about making a living, honorably.”