Photo Credit: Rabbi Goldberg
The author and his comrades during a training exercise with Shlav Bet.

It’s my first day of training. I’m in the IDF Shlav Bet program, primarily geared to charedim who didn’t enter the army at 18, or to religious immigrants who came after the exemption age.

The first person I meet, I’m in shock. “Sonnenfeld,” he introduces himself. “Are you related to…?” I ask, hesitantly. Yes, indeed, he is a direct descendant of Rabbi Yosef Chaim Sonnenfeld, founder of the anti-Zionist Eidah Chareidis. I later find out our logistics officer is Rabbi Sonnenfeld’s great-great-grandson-in-law. Other notable comrades included a well-known charedi author and two sons of a leading Bais Yaakov seminary principal.

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Since December, I’ve engaged in numerous dialogues, including with Agudath Israel’s spokesman, roshei kollel from Ramat Eshkol and Har Nof, as well as a rebbe and administrator from the yeshiva of the infamous “garbage-collector” speech. Invariably, after I’ve demonstrated that various claims – such as the claims of shevet Levi (in short, that certain Jews should be considered like the Tribe of Levi and therefore exempt for military service) and Torah magna u’matzla ­(that the Torah is enough to protect people) – are not faithful understandings of those Torah sources, the bottom-line issues I hear revolve around da’as Torah’s opposition to the army’s secular ethos.*

Hesder yeshivot go a long way toward debunking the secularization concern, but hesder yeshivot have also made various religious compromises. And philosophically, religious Zionist soldiers embrace certain nationalistic elements foreign to the charedi belief system. So, I once had sympathy for such concerns. But I’ve now seen firsthand how these claims, too – that the army has an agenda to secularize – do not represent faithful understandings of what army service would look like for charedim. Here are some of the arguments I’ve heard against army service, along with my experience in Shlav Bet.

The army is secular. Charedi youth will become frei, irreligious.

My experience? Every commander was charedi or devoutly dati-leumi. There was zero interaction between genders. Time to learn Torah each day. All food had a high-level mehadrin hashgacha (Landau, Rubin, etc.). For anyone who didn’t want to rely on that, they even brought pre-wrapped Eidah Charedis meals! Davening with a minyan three times a day. Many comrades whose children are in charedi schools, remarked that they davened with a minyan more frequently than they do in civilian life.

A couple of anecdotes:

Though everything in the army is done under precise timing, one day our company commander implored us to daven slower, noting that we can ask for time extensions if necessary.

One commander repeatedly stressed that our yiras shamayim (awe of Heaven) should not diminish one bit during our army service. “And if we feel it does?” asked one soldier. “Then leave your unit and find a different unit with a commander sensitive to your particular religious needs,” was the unexpected reply.

If someone becomes secular in such an environment, it’s a deep indictment of the shallowness of the religious education they received until enlistment.

The army’s agenda is to secularize everyone.

In fact, as one of my commanders stressed, the army is no longer the melting pot Ben-Gurion envisioned it to be. Just as in the business world, the army recognizes the value of diversity over homogeneity.

Another anecdote:

Every morning, we stand in formation and sing Hatikvah. Some in the charedi community take issue with Hatikvah’s lyrics, specifically the line “l’hiyot am chofshi b’artzeinu” (to be a free nation in our land). Their understanding is that the composer’s intended meaning is to be “free of mitzvah observance.” A comrade of mine raised an objection based on the above understanding. “Not everything you say is a statement of ideology,” the commander reassured him. “But,” he added, “if you remain uncomfortable saying it, then don’t. Or replace ‘free nation’ with ‘Jewish nation’ or ‘Torah nation.’”

On a related note, we sang Ani Ma’amin right after Hatikvah each day, something which I understand frequently occurs in other units with religious, non-charedi soldiers as well.

The army is guided by an ethos of kochi v’otzem yadi (attributing military success to human endeavor, leaving G-d out of the picture), and will imprint such an attitude in charedi youth.

Well, we were in training the night that Hamas’s Ismail Haniyeh and Hezbollah’s second-in-command Fuad Shukr were assassinated. We were called to a special formation immediately upon waking up. The message? To thank Hashem for these miracles during Shacharis. We were stopped later in the day – twice, by two separate commanders – to recite Mizmor l’Todah, the Psalm of thanksgiving. “We are not an army of kochi v’otzem yadi,” a different commander emphasized.

“But,” some will exclaim, “this is not representative of the army as a whole. Not every unit has these accommodations!” Paradoxically, as I learned, that is good for the charedi community. Because it doesn’t really matter what anyone else says, except your commanders. And if your commander is charedi or supportive of your religious needs, as so many today are, you are good to go.

An equally critical takeaway is that the more charedim join the army, the quicker it will evolve into a charedi-friendly army. A respected general – a great-nephew of a rav familiar to most readers but whose name I cannot yet publicize – has been tapped to build a charedi army base. He has an unlimited budget to build whatever they need, be it a mehadrin eruv, a mikvah, or a large shul. It is to be a male-only base. Its motto? “The way they come into the army – charedi – is the way they will leave.” No reeducation agenda there. Granted, this wasn’t the case twenty, or even ten, years ago, but times are changing. The reality is different.

Will charedi leaders step up and be a part of the change to a more Torah-observant army?

Though the training is only two weeks, alumni are found in critical roles such as patrols of Judea and Samaria (a.k.a. the West Bank) and logistics operations in Gaza. Reservist soldiers, and their entire families, are collapsing under the logistical, financial, and emotional strain of being asked to go back into service again and again. I know many of them. They are proud, they are resilient, and they are determined. But they are beyond exhausted. This is to say nothing of those who G-d-forbid develop PTSD, get injured, or are killed.

Each and every soldier that joins the army now enables a reservist soldier to get a reprieve. To give children back their father, to enable a husband to return home to his wife. Whether this is a milchemet mitzvah or not is almost irrelevant. It is a situation of pikuach nefesh on a national scale. I can think of no greater gemilut chasadim one can do for the Jewish people during our time of need.

 

*Another issue raised is how can one participate in the army if when major halachic shaylas come up they are decided by army personnel, and not poskim? Chapter 4 of Tzavah K’halacha addresses this, a sefer written in full consultation with Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, zt”l, according to reliable sources. I heard this directly from the author, R. Yitzchak Kaufman, and it has been confirmed by Rav Shlomo Zalman’s sons in the introduction to Shulchan Shlomo.


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Rabbi Chaim Goldberg has semicha from RIETS and a graduate degree in child clinical psychology from Hebrew University. Aside from practicing psychology and teaching Torah at various yeshivot/seminaries, he runs Mussar Links, a non-profit dedicated to publishing the Torah writings of Rabbi Hillel Goldberg.