Israel’s military starts drafting ultra-Orthodox Jews – but the battle over serving ‘the army of God’ vs. the army of the state isn’t over, and points to key questions for the country’s future

Ultra-Orthodox Jewish men attend a rally against army recruitment in Jerusalem on June 30, 2024. AP Photo/Mahmoud Illean

In late July 2024, the Israeli military sent out the first 1,000 conscription notices to ultra-Orthodox Jewish men, following a unanimous Supreme Court ruling that the government must stop exempting them.

But will these Haredim, as the ultra-Orthodox are called in Israel, actually join the Israel Defense Forces and be followed by thousands more in the near future? It depends on whom they obey: the state authorities or their religious authorities.

Yitzhak Yosef, whose term as one of the government’s two chief rabbis recently ended, told religious students that “anyone who receives a draft notice should tear it up and not go,” the Israeli paper Yedioth Ahronoth reported. “He is a soldier in the army of God.”

Yosef is not the only Haredi rabbi to oppose army service, and many Haredi men have taken to the streets to protest since the Supreme Court’s decision, which followed years of political wrangling over the issue.

Ever since the state of Israel’s founding in 1948, ultra-Orthodox Jews – those who take the strictest approach toward following Jewish law, and are now around 14% of the population – have been exempt from military service. Among all other Jewish citizens, from the secular to the modern Orthodox, men are required to serve 32 months, and women 24, plus reserve duty. Amid the war in the Gaza Strip, other Israelis’ resentment toward the ultra-Orthodox exemption is at a high.

As a historian, I see the conscription debate as more than a political crisis for Israel’s government. The question is so sensitive because it opens up fundamental questions about the cohesion of Israeli society in general, and of the Haredi population’s attitude toward the Jewish state in particular.

It also illustrates the complexity of a country that is not as easily explained as many of its supporters and critics alike believe.

Yitzhak Yosef, center, the Sephardi chief rabbi of Israel, attends a protest against religious reforms in Jerusalem in 2022.
AP Photo/Mahmoud Illean

Initial compromise

Historically, Orthodox Jews struggled to justify the idea of a Jewish state. They prayed for centuries to return to Jerusalem and rebuild the temple, but had a specific return in mind: a Jewish state established by the Messiah. Any other kind of Jewish sovereignty, they believed, would be blasphemy.

Theodor Herzl, who founded modern political Zionism in the late 1800s, had a long beard like a Biblical prophet. Yet he was thoroughly secular and assimilated – he even lit a Christmas tree with his family. Herzl’s movement to encourage more European Jews to migrate to the Holy Land had little appeal for the Orthodox.

There was, however, always a minority among the Orthodox who identified with Zionism, the belief that Jewish people should have a sovereign political state in the land of Israel. According to the Talmud, the central source of Jewish law, saving lives is more important than other commandments – and Zionism saved Jews from pogroms and other anti-Jewish violence in Europe.

During the Holocaust, the vast majority of observant Jews in Eastern Europe were murdered. Afterward, many survivors who had previously opposed Zionism sought refuge in the new state of Israel.

On the eve of Israel’s independence, David Ben-Gurion, the prime minister of the state-to-be, entered an agreement with the leaders of the two camps of Orthodox Jews.

The Haredim, or ultra-Orthodox, still refused to recognize the legitimacy of a secular Jewish state. The so-called national religious camp, on the other hand, embraced it.

Among other concessions, the new state granted exemption to young Haredi Jews who wanted to study religious texts full time instead of joining the army. That hardly seemed consequential, as the young men in question numbered only a few hundred.

Shifting views

During the Six-Day War of 1967, Israel captured the Jewish holy sites in Jerusalem as well as the Gaza Strip, West Bank, Golan Heights and Sinai Peninsula. Since then, the national religious camp, once a moderate force, has developed into the spearhead of the right-wing settler movement.

Jewish settlers study the Torah in a tent at the West Bank outpost of Homesh, near the Palestinian village of Burqa, Jan. 17, 2022.
AP Photo/Ariel Schalit

Unlike the first generations of Orthodox Zionists, national religious Israelis today are Zionists not despite but because of messianism. Israel, they believe, will help bring about the messianic age. Therefore, right-wing religious Zionists – like Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s cabinet ministers Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich – are enthusiastic proponents of army service.

Not so the Haredim, the ultra-Orthodox.

To be clear, Haredi Jews are very diverse. This demographic includes families with roots everywhere from Poland and Romania to Morocco and Iraq. It includes people who support Israel’s existence, and opponents who burn the flag on the country’s Independence Day. It includes men who join the workforce and men who dedicate their life to religious study.

The majority of Haredim living in Israel are not Zionists, yet live there because it is the Holy Land and the state subsidizes their study. Anything else – secular education, army service and, often, paid work – is seen as a distraction.

A minority of Haredi Jews serve in the armed forces voluntarily, and more have enlisted since the beginning of the latest Israel-Hamas war. But they have no legal obligation to do so; nor do Israel’s Arab citizens.

Jewish men pray in Jerusalem for the success of the Israeli army and for the return of the Israeli hostages, on Nov. 9, 2023.
AP Photo/Ohad Zwigenberg

Growing Haredi sector

Israel’s governments have continued to tolerate this situation as ultra-Orthodox political parties became much-needed partners.

Yet legal and popular opposition has increased.

In 1998, the Supreme Court ruled that the defense minister has no right to exempt Haredi Jews from military service and asked the government to find ways to draft them. In 2014, a center-right government under Netanyahu passed a law aiming to have 60% of Haredi men serving within three years. But the 2015 elections brought Haredi parties back in power, and implementation was effectively abandoned.

Since then, Haredi parties have become more powerful as their population grows. Yet the Supreme Court has made clear that the government either needs to draft Haredim, or the legislature has to come up with a new law to excuse them.

Seven in 10 Israeli Jews oppose the blanket exemption, meaning another exemption might jeopardize Netanyahu’s government. Frustration is also rising over plans to raise the military service of men to three years and to double the duty of reservists to 42 days a year during emergencies.

None of this would matter if the Haredim were still the same tiny segment of society they were in 1948. Today, however, ultra-Orthodox women have 6.5 children on average, compared with 2.5 among other Jewish Israeli women, and around 1.3 million of the country’s 9.5 million people are Haredim.

The resulting transformation of Israeli society is easy to see. If the trend continues, Israel will become a very different, very religious society – one that can hardly survive economically.

On average, a non-Haredi household pays nine times more income tax than a Haredi one, while the latter receives over 50% more state support. Even if they were ready to work, most Haredim would have a hard time finding well-paid jobs, as their state-subsidized private schools teach hardly any secular topics.

For Israeli society, this portends further fragmentation and a weakening of the economy – to say nothing of the army. In Haredim’s eyes, however, Israel succeeds because of religious Jews’ study and prayer.

In total, the state plans to issue draft orders to 3,000 Haredi men over the next few weeks, and they are not chosen randomly. Most work, or study in higher education institutions, rather than traditional religious schools. This small group might indeed follow the secular state authorities, rather than the appeals of their rabbis.

Without even a minimal secular education, the majority of Haredi youth, however, would not be easily integrated into the army. Thus, the draft of this segment of Israel’s population may remain more symbolic – telling them that they too have to share more than the spiritual burden of a war-plagued society.

This is an updated version of an article originally published on March 15, 2024.

Michael Brenner does not work for, consult, own shares in or receive funding from any company or organization that would benefit from this article, and has disclosed no relevant affiliations beyond their academic appointment.