Hundreds of “Hill-Top Youth” with a history of administrative detention or prosecution for criminal damage, were always rejected by the IDF as unsafe to carry weapons. With the outbreak of this war, many of these adults faced awkward questions about why they were not serving alongside their brothers, and they were inspired to apply again. The application process is rigorous and involves careful screening, police checks, and psychological evaluations, but its existence reflects a willingness to rehabilitate people with a checkered past.
Yosef M. is proud to finally wear an IDF uniform at the age of 26. He is serving in a meaningful role in defending Israel’s borders after years of feeling rejected.
“To be honest, the feeling was mutual”, he admits. “I spent most of my time as a teenager running away from the army and the police, building new settlements and seeing them dismantled by IDF bulldozers. Getting arrested numerous times and getting into trouble with the police, with prosecutors, and the entire Israeli legal system. The Army gave me a patur (permission not to serve) when I turned 17, and that suited me perfectly.”
Of course, everything changed on October 7. Yosef was travelling in Europe but tried desperately to get back to Israel. He signed up to join the Emergency Response team to protect the village where he lives, but with no Army record he could not carry a gun. Instead, he volunteered to help his local security team in other ways.
In June 2024, Yosef applied again to join the IDF through the Shlav Bet program, persevered to get the required permits from a doctor, a psychiatrist and the police. It took almost five months to complete the process, but he was determined to serve his country.
“It helped that I never hurt anybody. Throughout my years of protests and “action” against the system, I never got involved in “Tag Mechir” reprisal attacks. The Shabak warned me not to hurt Arabs and I listened. I was never investigated or accused, and I’m proud of myself for never crossing that line.”
Much has been written about the hill-top youth phenomenon as response to the Oslo Agreement, the Gush Katif disengagement, and the Second Intifada in the early 2000s. At that time, it was estimated that 10% of teenagers in Israel’s national religious schools were visible or hidden dropouts. Many of them were attracted to a free life of shepherding, building homes on vacant land in Judea and Samaria, hanging out, drinking and taking drugs, and getting arrested.
One of the few people who recognized this growing problem and took steps to remedy it was Etia Dan mother of eleven children with a background in education, she believed that the kids she met who were looking for trouble were actually running away from an education system that was failing them. She saw that many of them had undiagnosed learning difficulties, and their rebellion against “the system” was driven by their own personal frustrations with inflexible school rules and unrealistic parental expectations.
Etia found some open-minded educators and set up an informal education framework for hill-top youth. “I spoke to each of them individually and told them that I understand their struggle and I believe in their potential. Many had been playing hooky, living outside of the formal school framework for several years, and there was no way back in. So, we designed a customized study program for each student, based on what they enjoyed learning and what they had missed.
“We drew up a contract with each of them, agreeing what time they would turn up, how many hours they would study, and what we would teach them. They came to us when they were ready to learn, and we listened to their grievances with empathy. By treating them as young adults, and not judging or disciplining them, we gave them control over their own future and a route back into society.”
Over the past 20 years (Menifa would have celebrated its 20th anniversary this year were it not for the war), special Menifa programs around Israel have educated over 50,000 drop-out youth including hill-top youth from different communities. These catch-up programs are funded by local municipalities and employ local teachers and social workers who understand the needs of disenfranchised teenagers. Menifa’s unique holistic approach is based on believing on every person’s ability to change
Yosef M. stopped going to school in 4th grade and joined a group of disenfranchised youth. By the time he turned 17 he had been arrested many times and was banned from many parts of Judea and Samaria. Stuck on a farm tending sheep, he was bored and looking to change his life and make some money. Menifa offered him the chance to resume his formal education.
“They told me that they could teach me math and help me graduate in all the subjects I wanted. They believed in me when no one else did. Even my parents had given up on me, until they saw that I was getting good grades. Learning in small groups with cool teachers kept me interested, despite my ADHD. Within just one year, I had caught up with all my peers and was able to graduate with a full Bagrut certificate.”
Etia Dan, founder and CEO of Menifa, has remained in contact with Yosef and many of his friends throughout their journey. “Yosef is one example of the thousands of young people whose lives have been saved by Menifa’s programs, thanks to their personal determination to complete their education and get their lives back on track. 20 years on, many of them are now counselors and mentors, helping disillusioned youth who are younger versions of themselves. We remain committed to help every young person to do their best, and we are proud that many of them are now able to serve their country.”
In 2017, an Israeli journalist wrote an article about Yosef’s success thanks to the Menifa program. Adva, a young woman from Haifa, was intrigued by his story and contacted him. In March of this year, they got married!
“We were supposed to marry in November, but the war forced us to delay our wedding until March 2024. Today I’m proud to live a normal life. Thanks to Menifa I was able to complete my education. If I wanted to, I could go to university like my wife, but for now I’m happy to be working as a news photographer and serving in the IDF.”
As King David wrote in Tehillim, the stone that was rejected by the builders is now a cornerstone!
