A New Politics of Chareidi Responsibility

Channel 13 reports that elements associated with the Peleg Yerushalmi have been exploring the possibility of yet another Chareidi political party formed with several leading figures unsatisfied with the “mainstream” parties – one that would take an even more uncompromising position against military service. The name it has taken is “Code Black” (Tzeva Shachor) from the network they developed to alert supporters when military police attempt to arrest Chareidi draft evaders. Demonstrators are then dispatched to obstruct the arrest.

Against that backdrop, a very different Chareidi political party was formally launched on August 23: HaTzibbur HaCharedi, led by Moti Leitner, deputy mayor of Beit Shemesh. Leitner argues that genuine full-time Torah learners must be protected, but that those who are not genuinely engaged in full-time Torah study should serve in the military or perform meaningful national service. He speaks openly about teaching mathematics and English, preparing young people to earn a dignified living, representing working Chareidim, and helping Chareidi olim find their place in Israeli society.

Since its launch, the party has begun establishing a name for itself, and many people have welcomed this new initiative. These are not merely two competing political organizations. They represent two very different possible futures for the Chareidi community.

Israel’s debate about the Chareidi community has become dominated by military service. That is understandable in a country exhausted by war and repeated reserve duty. But beneath the draft controversy lies an even broader question: Can a rapidly growing community build its future around economic dependence, inadequate preparation for employment, and the assumption that someone else will continue paying the bill?

That question is not anti-Chareidi. It is a question about the future of the Chareidi community itself.

According to the latest Israel Democracy Institute statistical report, only 54 percent of Chareidi men are employed, and the increase in male employment has largely stalled over the past decade. An OECD report found that 47 percent of Chareidi children live in relative income poverty. Even two working parents do not always protect a Chareidi family from poverty, in part because many parents enter the workforce without the education and skills necessary to obtain well-paying jobs.

These are not merely statistics. They represent families struggling to pay for food, housing, clothing, schools, and weddings. They represent women carrying an extraordinary share of both the financial and domestic burden. They represent intelligent and capable men entering the workforce late and discovering that many doors have been closed because they were never given the basic educational tools needed to compete.

Most tragically, this situation is often presented as the price that must be paid for loyalty to Torah.

That is a false choice.

The Jewish tradition unquestionably regards Torah learning as one of our highest values. A community that sustains serious scholars devoted to full-time learning should be honored. But protecting those who genuinely learn full-time is not the same as constructing an entire society around the premise that working for a living is spiritually second-rate.

Chazal did not speak that way. Pirkei Avos praises Torah together with earning a livelihood. The Gemara requires a father to teach his son a trade. Supporting one’s family with dignity is not a concession to modernity. It is part of accepting responsibility for the life that G-d has given us.

Nor is this some new import from secular Israeli culture.

The Torah world in which many of us were raised – shaped by leaders such as Rav Moshe Feinstein and Rav Yaakov Kamenetsky – did not regard the working ben Torah as a failure. It produced generations of deeply observant Jews who learned regularly, supported their families, paid taxes, built communal institutions, and contributed generously to yeshivos and charitable organizations.

Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach, while entirely devoted to Torah learning, famously directed a student seeking to pray at the graves of the righteous to the military cemetery at Mount Herzl. He understood the sanctity of those who sacrificed their lives protecting the Jewish people. Moreover, as a former talmid at Kol Torah in the early 1970s, I repeatedly heard the message that if one is not learning full-time one needs to serve in the army.

I do not presume to claim that these great men would endorse every detail of the present party’s platform. None of us can speak for them. But neither can their legacies honestly be reduced to contempt for working Jews, indifference toward soldiers, or the insistence that total separation from Israeli society is the only authentic Torah position.

The existing Chareidi political parties have had decades to address education, employment, poverty, young people who do not succeed in the standard yeshiva framework, and the marginalization of working Chareidim. They have certainly accomplished important things for their communities. But on these fundamental issues, their overriding political instinct has remained defensive: preserve the existing system, resist outside demands, and request additional funding from an unwilling Israeli public increasingly feeling taken advantage of.

That approach is no longer sustainable.

A political party creates more than legislation. It determines whom a community regards as worthy of representation. When virtually every Chareidi politician emerges from and answers to the same institutional structure, the working father, the professionally trained mother, the struggling young person, the immigrant, and the person seeking responsible engagement with the country all remain politically invisible.

That is why HaTzibbur HaCharedi is needed. It can say openly that earning a livelihood is honorable; that schools must equip children to support their future families; that government resources should help people achieve independence rather than perpetuate dependence; and that a person should not have to leave the Chareidi community in order to build a productive life.

Yet whenever this new movement is discussed, the same question immediately arises:

Which leading Gedolim have publicly endorsed it?

It is a fair question. A Torah-oriented political movement needs serious rabbinic guidance. But if we make a major public endorsement from prominent rabbanim the precondition for taking even the first step, the movement may never be allowed to begin.

The reason is painfully simple. A relatively small but organized group of extremists within the Chareidi world has demonstrated that it will stop at very little to intimidate anyone who challenges its position. The pressure is not limited to theological disagreement. It can include public humiliation, threats, damage to reputations, attacks upon institutions, harassment of families, and sometimes physical violence.

We have seen repeated demonstrations and attempted intrusions at Rav Dovid Leibel’s home because of his work on behalf of employed Chareidim and appropriate military frameworks. In January, extremists violently disrupted a conference connected with the Chashmonaim Brigade, attacking participants and even a rabbi teaching the soldiers.

More recently, Rav Eliyahu Meir Feivelson – a serious Torah scholar and rosh yeshivah – was surrounded, abused, pushed, and struck. Extremists subsequently disrupted his Tisha B’Av shiur. And the years of disgraceful factional violence at Ponevezh have shown how easily intimidation can invade even one of the most prestigious halls of Torah learning.

And of course, there is the violence and ugly epithets seen almost daily in the demonstrations in the street.

These people do not represent most Chareidim. But they do not need to represent the majority in order to exercise power. They need only convince everyone else that public dissent carries an unbearable price.

A rabbi considering support for this movement must ask what will happen to his yeshiva, school, congregation, students, fundraising, children, and grandchildren. Even if he believes privately that the present system is disastrous, publicly saying so could endanger everything he has spent a lifetime building.

I know of rabbanim who agree privately with much of what we are saying. Those conversations offer encouragement and guidance. But we cannot demand that every such rabbi expose himself, his family, and his institution to attack before ordinary people are willing to act.

That would place the entire burden of courage upon the very people with the most to lose.

Change therefore cannot begin with a procession of famous names. It must begin from the bottom up – with working Chareidim, parents, educators, businesspeople, immigrants, community activists, and ordinary Torah Jews who are prepared to say that the present course is unacceptable.

If enough people step forward, the atmosphere will change. Rabbis who now feel isolated will discover that they have a community behind them. Those who privately sympathize may gradually feel able to speak. The extremists’ power will diminish when their targets no longer stand alone.

This does not mean rejecting rabbinic leadership. It means creating the conditions in which responsible rabbinic leadership can be heard without being immediately crushed by intimidation.

Nor does supporting a new party require granting it a blank check. HaTzibbur HaCharedi must present credible candidates, serious policies, financial transparency, and a realistic electoral strategy. It must earn the public’s confidence.

But it cannot earn that confidence if everyone waits for everyone else to move first.

What can an ordinary person do? Learn about the movement. Discuss it with friends. Challenge the claim that working for a living is a lesser form of Judaism. Host a small meeting. Offer professional expertise. Contribute financially. Let working and serving Chareidim know that they are respected. And, when possible, be willing to say publicly that the current political leadership does not speak for every Torah-observant Jew.

The time for comfortable fence-sitting is ending.

A community in which nearly half the children live in poverty cannot wait indefinitely. Parents deciding whether their sons should receive the education necessary to earn a living cannot wait. Working Chareidim who have been politically invisible cannot wait. And Israel cannot wait while one of its fastest-growing populations is denied a realistic path toward economic independence.

We should welcome every rabbi who is prepared to stand with us. We should seek Torah guidance and listen respectfully to criticism.

But we cannot wait for permission to become responsible.

Sometimes the people must first create the path. Then courageous leaders will be able to walk it with them.

The author is involved in supporting HaTzibbur HaCharedi. The views expressed here are his own.