Drafting Yeshiva Students: In Those Days, at This Time (Column 609)
Know that this matter should not have required an explanation,
for since the Talmudic expression is that six hundred and thirteen commandments
were given to Moses at Sinai, how can we say of something rabbinic
that it is included in the count? Yet we were prompted to address it because many have erred in it…
(Rambam, beginning of Root 1)
In response to the public’s repeated requests—and especially in light of the ratings promised to me in advance—I decided to write a column about drafting yeshiva students. I admit it is embarrassing that one even has to write about a matter so simple and self-evident, but apparently there are many for whom it is not. One could apply here the Rambam’s words at the start of Root 1 quoted above. There he rules that rabbinic commandments are not counted among the 613, yet because this is self-evident he nonetheless addressed it since many (following the Bahag) erred about it. Don’t be surprised if few sources are cited here, certainly not from later decisors. Beyond the fact that in first-order rulings sources are often superfluous except as illustrations, here—precisely because of the simplicity of the matter—this is all the more true. As I wrote, the conclusions are as obvious as daylight, and plain common sense leads straight to them. In such cases, leaning on sources is unnecessary.
The Trigger: “Three things are too wondrous for me, and four I do not understand”
This topic has resurfaced in recent weeks during the “Swords of Iron” war, as the media reports the enlistment of thousands of ultra-Orthodox yeshiva students, with thousands more wanting to join the war effort but unable to do so. It is no wonder there are also some hysterical outbursts by Haredi leaders against the matter. Haredi society is in peril.
The dynamics of social processes are a riddle that strikes me again and again. Why and how does a young and not-particularly-wise girl like Greta, the Swede, become an international superstar who manages to move global processes of climate protection? Why is it that the more violent and shameful Palestinian terror becomes, the better their PR (and the worse ours)—and that among the “liberals”? Why does this or that “useful idiot” become an international star to whom everyone eagerly listens? How do storms erupt from every meaningless triviality (like Bibi’s “Eleh ha-chayim,” and so on)? Why do the slogans of each side in political and moral disputes sound foolish to me and yet sweep up frenzied masses? And more and more. As for our matter, I do not understand why precisely now, in the least threatening and dangerous war we have fought, there arise within the Haredi community the natural emotion and awareness of that basic duty to bear the burden together with the general public. In Column 605 I already wrote about the role of emotion in all these phenomena, but it still requires explanation.
It seems to be the result of a confluence of circumstances, such as the Haredi public’s emergence from the media bubble in which it lived until recent years (it is no accident that they fight so fiercely against an unfiltered internet—this is what every self-respecting dictatorship does)[1]; Haredim entering the workforce and professional training, which creates encounters with other populations and also reduces their economic dependence on the Haredi establishment; add to this the horrifying images from the massacre in the Gaza Envelope, the mobilization of the entire Israeli public the likes of which we have not seen even in previous periods and wars (which has its own reasons), and more. These processes—whose triggers are primarily emotional, of course—also led to some awakening from those semi-hallucinations and shabby uses of aphorisms like “Torah protects and saves” and/or “Torah scholars do not require guarding,” to Rambam’s “Tribe of Levi,” and the rest of those sacred, unassailable principles that are applied only in one area of Haredi life: army service. You won’t see anyone waving them when facing illness, or financial distress, political threats, and the like. In all those cases, everyone dutifully recites the slogans—but only after they have fulfilled the duty of “hishtadlut” (effort) with the desired and most elevated punctiliousness. For some reason, however, security threats do not frighten the Haredim (so long as there are “suckers” to bear the burden for them, of course. Effort, effort… even the Almighty needs agents, more or less faithful). There the situation is reversed: in their holy devotion to Torah they “protect us all,” while we only “ruin” their pursuits. Who said we even need an army to defend against a security threat?!
Well, as noted, in these days it seems the time of song has arrived, and signs of sobering are appearing at the gates of the draft offices. On the margins of this welcome phenomenon, I wonder when the bizarre ideology and theology of conservative Judaism will also go the way of all flesh, straight after the theses that underlie draft-dodging (see below). Perhaps a prophetic spirit fell upon me when I titled my theological leanings No One Has Power Over the Wind. Who can understand the wind and its courses?! Happily, it seems that even without control and without understanding the processes, “A Great Wind Is Coming.” So I decided to add my small contribution to that wind and touch on those barren and ridiculous theses which, like earthenware vessels, are purified by breaking—and they have no “breaking” but a knife.
In this column I will not enter the great theological questions—bitachon and hishtadlut (trust vs. effort), providence and divine involvement in the world, and the like—for two main reasons: (1) I have done so more than once; (2) what I will write here does not depend on them. The analysis and conclusions here are valid even for those who still hold to those odd dogmas. Needless to say, my “lean” theology only strengthens the conclusions I will reach here.
Point of Departure: “Shall your brothers go to war while you sit here?!”
The starting point of the discussion is the moral and civic duty of every person or group to bear the burden together with the other components of society—including the military burden. This is true for any society, Jewish or otherwise, since it is a basic moral principle. Of course, it also has halakhic expressions such as “the law of the kingdom is the law” or obligations to communal ordinances, but these are merely expressions of that self-evident meta-halakhic principle. Therefore, the burden of proof rests on those who wish to exempt themselves from this duty, not on those who call for fulfilling it. They must justify their stance and conduct, which deviate from that obligation. This is all the more true with regard to people who receive services from society and enjoy the equality of rights it offers all its citizens; needless to say, everyone is obligated to pay the “consideration.” It is unreasonable to enjoy the rights and not carry the burden of the obligations. At times one senses that this fundamental basis is missing in Haredi thinking—though in many Haredim (as individuals) it certainly exists—even if in the public discourse there is every effort to conceal it (aside from the aforesaid “outbursts” that repeatedly expose it to all).
Somehow this duty is translated into a halakhic obligation to participate in war, and the discussion revolves around that halakhic-philosophic issue. That, of course, drags us into the tiresome and irrelevant debate about the status of Israel’s wars today and the obligation to be drafted into them—are these “obligatory wars” or not, who is obligated in an obligatory war, and so on. This is utter nonsense and does not touch our discussion (for, as noted, the burden of proof lies on whoever tries to escape, not on those who claim there is an obligation to participate). Still, for the same reasons given by the Rambam in the column’s motto, I will briefly touch this as well.
At the start of chapter 5 of the Laws of Kings and Their Wars, the Rambam lists three types of obligatory war:
The king first fights only an obligatory war. And what is an obligatory war? The war against the seven nations, the war against Amalek, and delivering Israel from the hand of an oppressor who comes against them. Only afterward does he fight an optional war, which is a war fought with other nations in order to expand the borders of Israel and magnify the king’s greatness and reputation.
For an obligatory war the king need not consult the Sanhedrin; he mobilizes the people at his discretion (or, there, with the consent of the court). By contrast, an optional war requires a process of authorization. Arguments arise from time to time that today we have no Sanhedrin, Urim and Thummim, or prophet, and it is doubtful whether we may engage in an optional war; this raises the question of the obligatory war of delivering Israel from an oppressor. Again: it is obvious that our wars are not optional wars, and debating this on the basis of sources is bizarre. Are we speaking of expanding borders and magnifying the king’s greatness?! It therefore emerges, as the Rambam says, that delivering Israel from an oppressor is an obligatory war, and on the face of it that is precisely what we are dealing with in our day (with our “king” for this purpose being the government).
Yet in the next chapter the Rambam lists only the other two types (ch. 6, law 4):
If they do not make peace, or they make peace but do not accept the seven Noahide commandments, we wage war against them, kill all the adult males, and plunder all their property and children; we do not kill a woman or a minor, as it says, “and the women and the little ones”—this refers to male children. When are these words said? In an optional war, which is with other nations; but in the case of the seven nations and Amalek who did not make peace, we do not leave any soul alive, as it says, “So shall you do to all… Only from the cities of these peoples you shall not let any soul live,” and concerning Amalek, “you shall blot out the remembrance of Amalek.” And from where do we know this speaks only of those who did not make peace? As it says, “There was not a city that made peace with the children of Israel, except the Hivites who dwelt in Gibeon; they took all in battle, for it was from the Lord to harden their hearts to meet Israel in battle, in order to utterly destroy them”—from which we learn that they sent them demands for peace and they did not accept.
What about delivering Israel from an oppressor? Is that not an obligatory war? It is fairly clear that in such a case we do not first offer peace, for we have no time and must preempt and kill them. Yet the Rambam does not address this type here, and I think not by accident. Delivering Israel from an oppressor is not an obligatory war, at least not in the same sense as the wars against Amalek and the seven nations. Those are wars whose aim is to fulfill a commandment; that command is the motive for waging them. Without it we would not consider such a war (except perhaps as an optional war). But delivering Israel from an oppressor is done in order to defend and protect our lives, and we would do so even without any command. Of course there is an element of the commandment to preserve life, but the war is not waged for the commandment or by its force. Put differently: unlike the Amalek and seven-nation wars, even were there no commandment, we would fight in self-defense. From time to time a heretical thought crosses my mind: before the Hasmonean court expounded “until it is subdued”—even on Shabbat (Shabbat 19a)—did Jews not fight on Shabbat but serenely surrender to slaughter while humming Shabbat melodies?
The conclusion is that delivering Israel from an oppressor is a third kind of war: neither optional nor truly “obligatory” in that sense. Moreover, I have written more than once (see, for example, my article here) that it is in fact incorrect to treat such a war as a “war” in the halakhic sense. It need not be conducted by the halakhic parameters of war. It is a matter of saving life, and therefore the needs of defense dictate what must be done: who goes out, what authorization process is required, and so on. There is no difference between a nation going out to a defensive war and a private individual defending his life. It is merely a matter of pikuach nefesh—saving life—nothing more.
The practical consequence concerns all the debates about who goes out to war. Many cite that in an obligatory war even a groom from his chamber and a bride from her canopy go out, and perhaps even Torah scholars are not exempt. But these are empty and pointless debates. This is not a halakhic discussion but a factual one. Whatever is required to defend—that is what must be done. If the public holds that for this war everyone is needed, then everyone must go. Would you imagine that we should be defeated in war because the rules require that grooms or Torah scholars not go out? These are ordinary considerations of saving life; there is no need to cite sources. It reminds me of a story I heard from a friend who was a tank officer in the First Lebanon War: he arrived at an emergency depot, received a tank platoon, and was ordered to drive on tracks into Lebanon until he reached his battalion. As is known, chaos reigned; along the way more and more lost soldiers joined him until a convoy formed. In the end they reached the battalion an hour before the ceasefire (after a few days wandering in Lebanon). He told me that when he organized night guard duty, there were career soldiers who informed him they do not stand guard because they are career personnel (as is customary in the army). It was not a war; apparently the privileges of career soldiers and their regulations are sacred.
Beyond all this, the parameters here should not differ between Israel and any other nation. The State of Israel—even if King David himself headed it—should conduct itself in this matter like any other state and by the same logic and rules; likewise, my duty as a Jew, whether a kollel fellow or not, secular or religious, to participate in a defensive war exists even if I am a Belgian or Tanzanian citizen. It is not tied to my being Israeli or to the fact that this is the Jewish state. It is the duty of a citizen to the society and state in which he lives, in self-defense against threats that also threaten him.
From all this you can understand that considerations of saving life dictate how we conduct ourselves in these wars, and these are not halakhic but factual matters. Halakhah permits everything before pikuach nefesh, but beyond that, determining whether a given situation is life-threatening and what is required to address it are factual-security considerations, not halakhic ones. Therefore the debates and sources that are endlessly chewed over in these contexts are devoid of value and meaning.
For the same reason, there is no need to discuss whether we are a Jewish state, whether this is defending Israel from an oppressor, whether we have a “king” (the government) today, etc. None of this is relevant. Any person or group in danger may and must defend themselves with all means at their disposal. The one thing that is perhaps relevant is Moses’ rebuke to the tribes of Gad and Reuben (Numbers 32:6):
“Shall your brothers go to war while you sit here?!”
This is not, of course, a halakhic citation but a moral rebuke—and that is exactly what is relevant to our discussion.
It seems to me that the very resort to sources and multiplying casuistry is like someone who asks a question in the laws of saving life on Shabbat—where the very discussion and question are disgraceful (Jerusalem Talmud, Yoma 8:5):
We desecrate Shabbat for saving a life. And one who hastens is praiseworthy. One need not seek authorization from the court. And one who is consulted is reprehensible, and the one who asks is a shedder of blood.
Later on I will nonetheless conduct this foolish discussion—for the reasons expressed in the column’s motto—but really I should have said here: “Why do you cry out to Me? Tell the children of Israel to go forward.”
The Framework of the Discussion: The Justifications
As noted, the duty to bear the military burden is self-evident and does not require halakhic debate and sources. It is simply saving life. One might argue that the army does not need all the young people who enlist—which may be true. But that still does not mean the Haredim or students should be exempt. If that is indeed the case, then conscript only 60% of the youths—but every sector must carry its share of the existing burden. This is the starting point: there is an obligation on everyone to bear the burden. What remains is to move to the question of the justifications for non-enlistment.
If I lay out the basic infrastructure of Haredi arguments against enlistment, I think it rests on four main components: (1) fear of “corruption”; (2) opposition to Zionism and the state; (3) the value of Torah study; (4) Torah as a substitute for defense—“Torah scholars do not require guarding” (for themselves) and “Torah protects and saves” (they also protect society at large).
As we will see, the different arguments attempt to justify non-enlistment of different groups and scopes. The first and second are the broadest, as they seek to exempt all Haredim. The third is the narrowest, as it speaks only of the “elite” (a common term in this discourse, meaning a carefully filtered minority) who should be exempt. The fourth speaks of a mid-sized group—everyone who studies.
I will now discuss each in turn.
- Fear of “corruption”
In my estimation, at least these days (and perhaps it has always been so), if you think honestly you will find that the first argument is the main one. There is a fear that a Haredi youth who enlists will be exposed to people and ideas outside the camp, threatening the “purity of his outlook,” and thus the entire Haredi society (risk of attrition). They do not talk about this much in the media, since it broadcasts weakness and fear (as opposed to the self-assured messaging typically presented from that direction), but this is the bitter truth. Once this claim is exposed (usually they try to conceal it), it appears reasonable and logical. They are not shirkers; rather, they claim the right to protect their way of life and live according to their understanding, and if the army threatens that, it is reasonable that they will refuse to enlist.
One can, to be sure, propose protected service tracks (with rabbinic oversight, political commissars, and mashgichim, as customary there), as indeed has occurred in recent years, but Haredi society—justifiably—is very wary even of those. The attitude to such tracks is two-faced, a very Haredi way for those in the know: outwardly they say it is legitimate, while internally they signal that it is strictly forbidden and that one should not marry into families who go there. The reason is that it is impossible to create a full Haredi bubble within the army. Some encounter with other populations is unavoidable, and that creates a great threat to Haredi life—and reality bears this out. As a factual matter, there is indeed a fairly high chance that a Haredi youth will be “corrupted” in the army. It is true that in many cases the “corruption” is the cause of his enlistment rather than its result (this is a common mistake in discussions of the draft). Still, slamming the door on enlistment is a Haredi instrument for guarding their youth.
It is important to understand that although this argument appears, on its face, the most reasonable and acceptable (at least it is not a fabrication like the other three), upon further reflection it is entirely baseless. The fact that you are likely to be “corrupted”—that is, that your ideology and principles are threatened—does not justify shirking your civic duties to the society in which you live, certainly so long as the service does not directly contravene your convictions but merely poses certain risks. That duty obligates you to risk your principles. There is no justification for others to risk their lives for you because you have such-and-such principles (you do not wish to be “corrupted”). I too have a very basic principle—that I do not wish to die. Does that justify my not enlisting? Are an important Haredi individual’s eating strictly-supervised kosher or not seeing a woman in pants more important than my life? Just as I may not steal others’ money to heal myself or cope with threats to my lifestyle and views, so too here: my threats and risks are my problem, not anyone else’s. If there are such threats, you should try to establish an optimal service track for yourself—but within that, you must bear the burden. In recent years this has been done somewhat, but the public discourse around it is bizarre: somehow it seems that this is the state’s interest, and the Haredim are merely doing us a favor and deserve gratitude. In truth, it ought to be the Haredi society’s interest to fulfill its duty to society and state, not the state’s and/or army’s interest. Everything here is upside-down.
I will add that I am very troubled by the assertiveness with which people advance this claim—even with a certain pride at their honesty (that they are willing to admit weakness)—and the expectation of gratitude for those who do enlist and for the far-reaching “compromises” (?!) they are willing to make as part of service. It seems they lack the basic moral understanding that guarding your principles does not justify having others give their lives for you and that there is a moral (and halakhic) duty to bear the burden with the public. You are not serving for “them” but for society as a whole—which includes you as well. Even among those who wish to enlist there somehow persists the sense that service is an obligation toward the outside public (cf. “gratitude”). This naturally brings us to the next three points.
- Ideology and theology
The second basis I presented is ideological—the attitude toward the State of Israel and Zionism. This was the talk before the state’s founding and among the Haredi ideological vanguard in its early years, but today it is typically denied emphatically in outward discourse (aside from uncontrollable outbursts like this one by R. Bunim Schreiber and several others by the vile Eichler, or this one by Rabbi Dov Lando, and so on). Many think that even if it exists somewhere in the background, it plays no role in justifying non-enlistment.
I disagree, first because the matter began with it and also because it still depends on it. Even today, when the talk about Zionism and the state is more muted, in my view this is a central component in justifying non-enlistment—especially inwardly. Even if it is not much stated outwardly and even if not a few deny it with respect to themselves, a Haredi youth must justify to himself not bearing the burden, and claims like “What have we to do with them?” or “They caused the problems, and we should fight and risk ourselves on account of that?” help him. An atmosphere of estrangement and non-partnership eases the conscience regarding the draft, even without formulating it as an ideological principle and without stating it explicitly.
- The value of Torah study
The third argument is the value of Torah study and the claim that Torah growth requires full devotion, so enlistment would very much interfere. Here they bring the exemptions granted to athletes and artists, and the argument arises: “Shall the priestess be like a barmaid?!” Surely Torah study is no less important than these pursuits. It should be noted that non-Haredim (including myself) share this argument—but of course it can justify exempting a far smaller number of students, not a blanket exemption for Haredim, nor even for all who study Torah. In Column 34 I explained that on this basis I certainly think it proper to exempt a certain number of carefully vetted students who are suited to Torah growth (what is commonly called the “elite”), exempting them from army service and from earning a livelihood. But even this is an exemption society grants those students also for its own sake, not a right due to anyone by law or that he may demand. Our topic here is exemption by right; therefore I will not enter the question of setting a specific number.
In this context (and not in discussing the fourth argument), the well-known words of the Rambam at the end of his Laws of Sabbatical and Jubilee Years are brought, where he writes:
And why did Levi not merit a share in the Land of Israel and its spoils along with his brothers? Because he was set apart to serve the Lord, to minister to Him and to teach His upright ways and righteous judgments to the many, as it is said, “They shall teach Jacob Your judgments and Israel Your Torah.” Therefore they were separated from the ways of the world: they do not wage war like the rest of Israel, nor do they inherit or acquire for themselves by the strength of their bodies. Rather, they are the army of the Lord, as it is said, “Bless, O Lord, his army.” And He, blessed be He, provides for them, as it is said, “I am your portion and your inheritance.”
And not the tribe of Levi alone, but any person from among all the inhabitants of the world whose spirit generously moves him and whose wisdom has brought him to set himself apart to stand before the Lord, to minister to Him, to serve Him, to know the Lord; and who goes straight as God made him, and casts off from his neck the yoke of the many calculations that people seek—such a person is sanctified as holy of holies. The Lord will be his portion and inheritance forever and ever; He will provide for him in this world with what suffices him, just as He granted to the priests and Levites. As David, peace be upon him, says: “The Lord is my allotted portion and my cup; You support my lot.”
As is known, the Rambam tends to insert aggadic “vorts” at the end of his halakhic compilations. No vort has been quoted and used more than this one. In any event, one sees here that Torah scholars are exempt from efforts to earn a livelihood and from waging war, and of course also from owning property.
It has already been noted that the stance which uses this Rambam cherry-picks special exemptions and neglects the others. It is hard to say of an ordinary kollel fellow that he is one who has cast off the yoke of the many calculations people seek, who walks straight as God made him, who is uninterested in property and ownership, and whose entire life is sanctified to study. Even among the most diligent learners, very few truly meet this magnificent description. But even if most do not meet the criteria (the duties), they nonetheless feel free to enjoy the rights: principally exemption from army service and, to a degree, exemption from livelihood (though much effort goes into ensuring there is no need for such effort; the state and society are supposed to replace the Almighty in providing their sustenance).
In parentheses I will note that the Rambam’s words in the Laws of Torah Study (3:10)—which are not an aggadic vort but a halakhic ruling (in the Rambam’s view; personally I am very doubtful here)—are less frequently quoted by the Haredim:
Anyone who sets his heart on studying Torah and not working, and sustains himself from charity—such a person desecrates the Name, dishonors the Torah, extinguishes the light of religion, and brings evil upon himself, and forfeits life in the World to Come. For it is forbidden to derive benefit from words of Torah in this world. The Sages said: “Anyone who benefits from words of Torah forfeits his life from the world.” And they further commanded: “Do not make them a crown with which to magnify yourself, nor a spade with which to dig.” And they further commanded: “Love work and hate authority.” Any Torah that is not accompanied by work will in the end be nullified and lead to sin, and in the end such a person will rob people.
Here they prefer to rule like the Kesef Mishneh on the spot. Well, he relies on the fact that many tried and did not succeed—but exemption from service does indeed “succeed,” so why not?!
One may wonder—even aside from the Haredim—how the Rambam’s statements cohere. I think that in the Laws of Sabbatical and Jubilee Years he speaks of people like Ben Azzai and Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, who truly cast off the yoke of worldly calculations, do not engage in livelihood or efforts, and hand themselves over entirely to the Almighty. Such people scarcely exist—neither then nor now. It is only a principled assertion and the presentation of some utopian model. By contrast, in the Laws of Torah Study he speaks of those who are not like Ben Azzai and Rashbi, who do engage in livelihood and efforts—like all of us—but think to derive their livelihood from Torah study. Such people, in his view, desecrate the Name, dishonor the Torah, and extinguish the light of religion, and in the end rob the public. Personally I do not agree with the Rambam here, but if one relies on the Rambam’s view, he must ask himself which of the two categories he belongs to; in particular this should be examined with respect to the Haredi public that cites the Rambam in the Laws of Sabbatical and Jubilee Years and apparently assigns itself—and all its fellows—to the first category.
Incidentally, if one adopts a new social covenant that exempts a small number of learners suited to it, they can be considered the “Tribe of Levi” even if they do not meet the Rambam’s criteria. It is an exemption granted by society also for itself, and it has the right to do so even in a poor generation like ours in which we do not have such Levites who cast off the yoke of the many calculations of human beings. The discussion here is about those whom society does not exempt on this basis, but about a sweeping exemption by force of coalition pressures and ideological and other principles as listed here—in other words, a demand for exemption as an acquired right.
- Torah as a substitute for defense
The final argument is that those who study protect us all, and therefore they are in fact contributing their share. This is the main Haredi line of propaganda, spoken much inwardly but no less important outwardly—because it is relatively easy to defend. Not because the outside listeners will necessarily agree (they won’t), but because they will at least understand that this is not simple shirking. When you are accused of shirking, the best defense is offense: I am the one who truly protects. And why do you not bear the burden of Torah study? You are the shirkers, for without it we cannot survive here.
As I wrote above, this section divides into two distinct claims: (a) “Torah scholars do not require guarding”—that is, army protection is needed only by ordinary citizens, not by Torah students; they are guarded by their Torah. Consequently they have no duty to contribute to defense, for they are not its “clients” (as if they were citizens of a different country for this purpose). (b) “Torah protects and saves.” This can also be understood similarly—that Torah protects and saves one who engages in it, which returns us to the previous point. But the way this phrase is used in the draft debate is that Torah also protects and saves society at large. That is, the claim is not only that kollel fellows are exempt because they do not need guarding, but that they in fact carry their share of the burden of guarding by their study, thereby protecting us all. The pious add that Torah is the true protector of us all, and the army is merely the “hishtadlut.” The hishtadlut thesis is a fascinating and unfounded invention—a jumble of logical contradictions, baseless fabrications, and shabby excuses that cover for a lack of faith in conservative dogmas (“everything is in Heaven’s hands”). I have elaborated on it more than once (see, for example, Column 279 and many others). Here I will therefore focus on the thesis of Torah study as “guarding.”
In this discussion we must first distinguish between aggadic and halakhic sources. “Torah protects and saves” is an aggadic statement, and any practical—certainly halakhic—conclusion drawn from it is very tentative. By contrast, “Torah scholars do not require guarding” appears in halakhic contexts and has halakhic ramifications.
“Torah protects and saves”
In Sotah 21a the Talmud discusses the protective power of commandments and Torah, and says both protect, but Torah more so:
As it is taught: R. Menachem b. Yose expounded, “For a commandment is a lamp and the Torah is light.” Scripture attached the commandment to a lamp and the Torah to light. It attached the commandment to a lamp to tell you: just as a lamp protects only temporarily, so too a commandment protects only temporarily; and the Torah to light to tell you: just as light protects forever, so too the Torah protects forever. And it says: “When you walk, it will guide you”—this is in this world; “when you lie down, it will watch over you”—this is death; “and when you awake, it will speak with you”—in the World to Come. A parable: A person walking in the dead of night, afraid of thorns, pits, thistles, wild animals, and bandits, and he does not know which path he is on. If a torch of fire chances upon him, he is saved from the thorns, pits, and thistles, yet he still fears wild animals and bandits and does not know which path he is on. When dawn breaks, he is saved from wild animals and bandits, yet he still does not know which path he is on. When he reaches a crossroads, he is saved from all. Another matter: A transgression extinguishes a commandment, but a transgression does not extinguish Torah, as it says: “Many waters cannot quench love.” R. Yosef said: A commandment, at the time one is engaged in it, protects and saves; when one is not engaged in it, it protects but does not save. Torah, whether one is engaged in it or not, protects and saves. Raba challenged: But Doeg and Ahitophel—did they not engage in Torah? Why then did it not protect them? Rather, said Rava: Torah, at the time one is engaged in it, protects and saves; when one is not engaged in it, it protects but does not save. A commandment, whether one is engaged in it or not, protects but does not save.
Incidentally, even there the discussion concerns protection of the person studying, not of the collective. One could, to be sure, bring other sources speaking of the merit of study and its benefit to those who support learners, and perhaps even to society at large. In any case, the meaning of that protection is not simple. Are there not Torah students who suffer harms of various kinds? The Talmud itself wonders about Doeg and Ahitophel and offers answers. Accept them or not—one does not refute a homily. In any event, as with all aggadah it is difficult to derive a clear conclusion, certainly regarding how much Torah must be studied for it to protect, to what extent it protects, and whom it protects. Does anyone stop taking medicine or going to work because “Torah protects and saves”? (Yes, yes, the “duty of hishtadlut.” And with respect to the army there is supposedly no such duty—I know.) Add to this what I have often written: even if all this were stated, the outlooks of the Sages do not obligate and are not necessarily correct; only the halakhah they ruled has formal force.
For my part, I too think “Torah protects and saves”—but not necessarily in a mystical sense; rather in a natural one. It is what protects Judaism, and thereby our survival as a people. Challah-separations or second-hakafot probably won’t do the job. This is a significant argument also for our discussion, since for this reason I indeed support granting an exemption to a reasonable number of serious students. I once offered the parable of the poor Chinese man who received two pennies for charity and bought with them a loaf of bread and a flower. When asked why he did not buy two slices of bread, he replied: the bread is to live, but the flower is to have something to live for. The value of our survival as a people lies only in Judaism. Without that, of course every human life has value—but I see not a shred of value in national survival as such.
“Torah scholars do not require guarding”
The source lies in the tax discussions in the first chapter of Bava Batra. The structure of the laws of taxation is complex, and the main question is how to apportion participation in public needs among citizens. Let me preface what I have remarked in the past: I am not at all certain these are halakhic sugyot. They are norms the Sages enacted wearing their hat as representatives of the public, not as decisors (like communal ordinances). The fact that these laws found their way into halakhic codes is the result of the historical accident by which we lost the monarchy and the secular authority (the monarchy) and halakhic authority (the Sanhedrin) merged. If so, one may learn nothing halakhically from there; the rulings are not binding. The fact is that in the matter of communal ordinances and taxes, no one practices as per the Shulchan Aruch but according to accepted custom—and no one is troubled by this. See on this Column 164 and elsewhere.
One of the principles presented there is that, at least regarding some matters, participation in public needs is according to the measure of benefit one derives (see here for a survey by my former student, Rabbi Yair Aton). Thus, for example, a wealthy person benefits more from a wall that protects against robbers and therefore must contribute more money toward it than a poor person; likewise, a family with many children benefits more from educational institutions, etc. By this principle, a Torah scholar who is protected personally by the Torah he has learned and learns is exempt from contributing to security expenses, since he does not need them. Note: this exemption does not derive from the notion that his Torah protects us all but that it protects him. The claim that he protects society is an additional claim—and it is hard to find clear support for it in those Talmudic sugyot.
In chapter 5 of his essay, Rabbi Aton discusses the exemption of Torah scholars from security expenditures. He presents three arguments there:
- The exemption from guarding is because they do not need it. According to this, it is not an exemption specifically for Torah scholars but an application of the general principle of contribution according to need. Indeed, the Talmud there makes clear that there are Torah scholars who do contribute to expenses (not to guarding itself, Heaven forbid—“that is not a job for Jews,” as the Gashash Hahiver quipped) in cases where they, too, need guarding. The question is whether, in our case, we are speaking of people who do not need guarding. Do they also not call the police when a thief enters their home, and not seek a livelihood when in financial distress? The selective use of the principle “Torah scholars do not require guarding” is problematic.
Beyond this, what does it say about expenditures for Haredi culture and education, mikva’ot, and more? If the assumption is that each community will fund itself and its needs, we will not get far. I have not heard of such renunciation from the Haredim.
- There is also, in that sugya, an exemption for Torah scholars from all royal taxes. Rabbi Aton argues that this applies only to a gentile kingdom; but even without that, I have yet to hear the Haredim demand exemption from taxes (though many of them, as known, are quite lenient in practice on that law). But who knows—perhaps this, too, awaits us…
- The exemption from taxes is also linked in those sugyot to the idea that calamity befalls the world because of ignoramuses. That is, the learners are not the source of the trouble and therefore the obligation to address it does not fall on them. I already mentioned above this odd argument (I believe its source is the Chazon Ish). Beyond the theological novelty of specifying on whose account calamities arrive and the diagnostic novelty that gives us clear tools to determine who is a Torah scholar and who an ignoramus and on whose account trouble befalls us, there is here the assumption that the level of contribution is set according to culpability (who caused the expense) rather than according to the level of threat (who needs saving). Note that we are not speaking of culpability that would justify imposing liability in tort—that, in itself, is a nontrivial innovation. Beyond that, now we can enter questions of culpability regarding all sorts of expenditures in our state and determine contributions accordingly. Here, too, you will see that we will not get far.
Generally speaking, throughout those sugyot it is implied that Torah protects its learners, not the public at large. The discussion is about exemption due to lack of need or lack of culpability. I have not heard anyone among us argue that if we have Torah students there is no need to spend on security because nothing will happen to any of us. Therefore, the claim that students protect the public surely cannot rely on those sugyot. But even regarding the students themselves, this is a selective use of ungrounded claims.
Conclusion and Summary
The discussion of all these arguments only shows us that the laws of taxes and participation in the burden in those sugyot are irrelevant to our lives in a modern state (and, as noted, they are not binding laws). I therefore do not accept those who brandish them as a contemporary basis, certainly when they do so selectively and inconsistently. Whoever enters the category of “Tribe of Levi” should do so to the end—including tax on sugary drinks, renunciation of livelihood and medicine, police services, and more. And in general: even if such righteous people are assigned service and taxes, nothing will happen to them. The Torah will protect them—so what is the problem?!
Returning to the beginning: there is no place for a sweeping exemption for Torah students, and certainly not a blanket exemption for some sector. One can set reasonable quotas for special learners (talented and diligent, after screening), so that “the priestess not be like a barmaid.” And if, for some reason, one concludes that full enlistment is unnecessary, even then the exemptions must be distributed among all sectors, not granted all to one group.
On Hanukkah—when the priests, the sons of the Tribe of Levi, were those who arose before the people to wage war against the Greeks (well, perhaps they were not the Rambam’s “Tribe of Levi,” but simply from the tribe of Levi)—it is most fitting that today’s Torah students hasten to the war and not leave their brothers to give their lives for them. In those days, at this time.
[1] I have written more than once that whoever thinks the Haredi internet filter became a cardinal article of faith because of pornography or violence does not understand how Haredi society operates. Haredi “articles of faith” are in no way connected to Jewish articles of faith. Their principal concern is exposure to other opinions and people—not to halakhic transgressions of one sort or another (from this you can also understand why my website is filtered there). In general, Haredi society is far more troubled by dangers to “Haredi-ness” than by matters of fear of Heaven or sin; all the great wars are waged there only over such issues. The fervent slogans about saving Israel and avoiding transgressions are a fig leaf for this.
Discussion
More power to you. A learned note—I’m not quite sure what you gain by defining a war to aid Israel against an oppressor not as an “obligatory war” but as a war of survival. First, both Rav Goren and Rav Yisraeli (who argued about the issue of harming innocents in Techumin 4, and afterward it became articles in Torat HaMedinah and in Chavot Binyamin I:15) did not treat it that way. In principle, you are transferring the laws of an obligatory war to pikuach nefesh, but what have you gained by that? You resolved one Rambam, but the other (the first one) remains difficult (with them too it is of course not clear why Rambam ignored this in the second Rambam, and each of them reads it in the opposite direction)—but why insist on this definition? Presumably you are right. But is there anyone drafted under pikuach nefesh who would not be drafted in an obligatory war? After all, even if, Heaven forbid, an enemy army invades the country, not everyone enlists; rather some order is arranged that each state determines—so why not say that this is exactly what they defined as an “obligatory war”?
Thank you
It’s not a question of gain. It’s the truth. Rambam is not difficult. It is a war that is a mitzvah even if it is not a milchemet mitzvah.
The practical difference is that this is not a war at all. See the article I linked. Another practical difference is that there is no need to resort to sources in order to determine the parameters of the obligation and the mode of conduct.
1. Is there no difference between the concern of an entire community that fears broad and significant damage—a corruption and harm to the thing most precious to it, namely Torah and the mitzvot—and an individual who doesn’t want to enlist because he has a remote fear of dying?
2. If the situation were reversed, and the army were a Haredi army, and the secular public feared a mass return to religion and therefore would not enlist—would that make sense?
Although I thought you would be more forceful, I stand by what I wrote, and in my estimation there will be many responses.
1. No. And this isn’t an individual either. Nobody wants to die.
2. No. What is the meaning of this question?!
Good for you. I’m not nourished by the number of comments and by ratings. I was just joking about it.
Is it not reasonable for society to take into account a community for whom enlistment requires a significant sacrifice far beyond that required of the rest of society, especially since if there truly is no need for everyone to enlist, then why not exempt those people for whom enlistment harms them incomparably more than everyone else—similar to the consideration given to an only son, who is not required to enlist in a combat unit except voluntarily and with his parents’ consent, because for them the sacrifice, if Heaven forbid something happens to their son, is far greater than everyone else’s sacrifice?
In my opinion it does not require such a great sacrifice. It is an injury to interests more than to values. If someone claims that the danger that his son will eat Rabbinate kashrut, or think that not all secular people are drugged out, or that Rabbi Kanievsky can sometimes make mistakes, is greater than the danger of dying, he does not succeed in convincing me.
And furthermore, this is an enormous number of people, not like pacifists for example, who are very few.
And beyond that, if society decides on this—fine. But demands and claims of rights are another opera altogether.
The harm is really not only to interests; a great many young men cast off the yoke and lost their religion in the army
A great many young men also lost their lives in the army.
As I already remarked, the Haredim who did so mostly cast off the yoke and therefore enlisted, not the other way around.
Wow, this column needs to be turned into a booklet and published..
With a few changes to make it timeless, and print it.
A great many religious Zionist youths enlisted and only afterward cast off the yoke, not the other way around; the concern about the possibility of corruption is far greater than the chance of dying
There is no possibility of enlisting without taking a risk of death, but if there is a possibility of not taking a spiritual risk (for people who see value in a life of Torah observance greater even than the value of life itself), it makes sense that they would demand not to enlist, especially if in any case they don’t need everyone
There is an interesting article by Rabbi Neria Gutel where he explains that the protection of Torah applies only to those who study for Heaven’s sake, and in his view this concept does not apply to us at all. In his words:
From the sugya in Ketubot (77b) it clearly emerges that this protection of Torah applies only to Torah students of the very highest level, those who study Torah “entirely for Heaven’s sake,” in holiness and purity, those whose faith is strong and who possess great merits. We learned this from the commentators’ treatment of what is recounted there about Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi, who during his Torah study would “attach himself” to severely ill and contagious patients, claiming that Torah surely protects. It should be noted that the Gemara (there) describes his conduct as standing in contrast to that of his colleagues—Rabbi Yohanan, Rabbi Zeira, Rabbi Elazar, Rabbi Ami, and Rabbi Assi—who distanced themselves greatly from any closeness to those contagious patients.
Wonderful. Thus the thesis has become empty of all content and unfalsifiable. He really saved the thesis. Indeed, Torah protects and saves (mainly extravagant theological theses).
What do you answer to argument 2?
What is argument 2?
According to what he says, this dictum never spoke about ordinary people, and not even about ordinary Torah scholars; rather the Gemara tells of people who reach such levels, just as there are people [individuals] who have the level of prophecy or divine spirit. But certainly this is not a claim about reality that exempts people from serving in the army or from working
Thank you. But seemingly one must add a dimension of war to the dimension of pikuach nefesh, because if this is not a war at all, then the Minchat Chinukh’s question returns: why in such a case wouldn’t each person say that, on the laws of his own pikuach nefesh, he wants to flee, for example, and not fight?
Regarding section 3: seemingly, even if one adopts that Torah study has a value that overrides everything, and even if one adopts that this could apply to an entire large population (the Haredim), it still does not follow from this that one is exempt from military service, or from anything else. Because in life we are not supposed to do only that which is a “supreme value.” Otherwise, even if you feed your child, that will take away from your Torah-study time. Don’t go shower; that will take away from your Torah-study time. Etc. etc.
In other words, one must deny the inference:
“There is a value in Torah study that overrides everything” => “One should be exempt from military service (or something else)”
Right?
The column is correct with regard to a secular person who would refuse to enlist if the army were a Haredi organization.
But the Haredi does not ask whether he is obligated to enlist; rather he asks whether Judaism obligates him to enlist, and in this there is no doubt that the supreme interest of religion is that its adherents remain religious.
And if we were to ask Rambam [wearing the hat of a halakhic decisor rather than the hat of a philosopher of ethics] whether a Haredi should enlist at the risk that he will not remain religious, there is no doubt he would rule that he should not [from a religious standpoint it is forbidden even to read heretical books].
That is, it is clear that from a religious standpoint the religious obligation to remain a Torah-observant person overrides his obligation to participate in the expenses of the townspeople.
That’s what I wrote, no? His inference from the Gemara is of course very weak.
Because there is a social agreement and burden-sharing to protect all of us. If a person does not want to be a citizen, then let him flee and join another group. This is collective pikuach nefesh, and it is war in the common terminology, but not an obligatory war in the halakhic sense.
I didn’t understand what you came to argue about. I completely agree.
You assume that halakhah overrides other obligations. I do not agree at all. You can leave the country and live somewhere else, and then there is no problem. You can’t dance at all the weddings, enjoy the rights and not take part in the duties. Beyond that, I already explained that the price is not as they portray it.
I repeat that this bizarre discussion really embarrasses me (the need to explain such simple things).
A. I didn’t understand your words. I am not assuming that halakhah overrides; I only said that halakhah assumes that. Do you dispute that from a halakhic standpoint this is the ruling? [If you have other obligations, there is no point discussing this with someone for whom the only thing that obligates him is halakhah.]
B. Is there any security or political aspect in which it would be beneficial if the Haredim left the country?
C. Regarding the price, this is a factual dispute. [What are the attrition rates due to contact with the secular world?] And presumably the prevailing opinion in the public is more in line with reality
The only argument I’ve heard that may have something to it is that, wholly apart from the Haredim, we should establish a professional army with no conscription at all. That involves much less waste of resources (though we would have to pay a much higher salary to every soldier). I don’t know whether this is practical or not, but it would definitely solve the problem of equality in sharing the burden (of course, if we also abolish all kinds of unjustified economic benefits for those who chose not to work). This somewhat reinforces your first argument, that if there is another option it is better not to force enlistment on those whose way of life it endangers.
But that is exactly the drawback of this approach. Collective pikuach nefesh is not something that can be defined. There are lots of people who evade the draft, and as long as it is not in an unorganized and institutionalized way (like Haredi society), then somehow it is accepted. Is someone who fled abroad during a war a traitor? Not really. He is simply seen as doing something socially unbecoming, but nothing beyond that. So you have lost the norm that obligates action and replaced it with something personal.
A. I definitely disagree. Halakhah absolutely does not say that. Caution against sin does not permit everything; otherwise we would all go to the deserts so as not to stumble in evil speech.
And even if halakhah did say that, the obligation to morality is not mine but that of every mortal human being. You are raising a very strange excuse against the accusation of immorality. You say: what do you want from me? I’m not obligated to morality. That isn’t an excuse; that is the accusation.
And indeed there is no point discussing this with someone who is obligated only to halakhah. That is ISIS, and one does not discuss matters with ISIS. They are dealt with in other ways.
B. There would be a great economic advantage. Security-wise it would make no difference. But morally, you cannot remain and enjoy the delights of the state and not pay your obligations.
C. I already explained that in many cases the attrition is not because of the army. People go to the army because of the attrition. Go and see the attrition from the educational institutions.
That’s it, I am done with this bizarre discussion.
That’s not an argument but a proposal. But you can’t just throw it out there. It requires serious examination, because it is not at all certain that such an option exists. Throwing out proposals like this in order to escape the obligation to enlist is of no use whatsoever. On the contrary, do systematic work and submit an orderly proposal.
You don’t have to answer [and you also don’t have to get angry].
A. Are you surprised that the Haredim are committed only to the morality anchored in halakhah?
B. On the other hand, if you are committed to morality, then contemporary morality as accepted in the world completely rejects enlisting in the army of occupation and requires several other values too, to which neither you nor I feel committed.
[The day is not far off when they will deal with anyone who drinks from a plastic bottle, or does not recognize a person’s right to define himself as a cucumber, just as they deal with ISIS.]
So when you speak about morality, you are speaking only about the morality that you determine everyone is obligated to—[for in the Muslim world the values of ISIS are certainly accepted, at least partially, and in the Christian world different values of equality are accepted, to which you too are not committed].
C. It was not about attrition in the army but about the very contact with the secular world as opposed to those who shut themselves in.
The article reached me at an interesting time, because on Friday evening one of my wife’s students called her—a reserve officer in an elite unit.
His unit was mobilized immediately when the events broke out and was stationed to defend one of the Haredi cities.
His soldiers are in terrible frustration that their lives have stopped in time while the city of Torah that they are protecting goes on with life as usual.
Texts praising the honor due to garbage collectors are familiar to everyone.
The soldiers are demanding to be assigned to Gaza, where they can actually fight, or if the army has no need for them, to return home.
He fears that a point of no return will come and the soldiers will leave and the city will remain without military protection.
I don’t know whether the breaking point will be in this round or whether the camel will be able to keep carrying for a few more years, but a point will come where soldiers from the general public will refuse to serve in defense of Haredim, and then the Haredim had better have a solution.
What about hesder yeshivot? From your words it emerges that this isn’t legitimate, since bad is bad no matter how small it is. And despite this, I understood that you support hesder
I didn’t understand. What is the problem with hesder yeshivot? It is an excellent solution for suitable service for yeshiva students, one that also combines Torah study. Two important and beneficial values. The claim that their service is shorter is not correct. Their service lasts five years, and they do reserve duty like everyone else (at a much higher rate than others in combat units). An ordinary soldier also goes to educational seminars, vacations, performances, and the like. Not to mention kiosk clerks, cooks, and quartermasters. There is no problem with dividing service into different durations and different tasks.
The point is that Torah study is a value accepted only by a minority of the nation, or at least granting an army exemption for the sake of this value is accepted only by a minority of the nation. And as you wrote, my personal ideology cannot exempt me from general obligations, just as we would not grant an exemption to climate activists who devote their lives to fighting disposable plastics. In the end, hesder soldiers serve less in the army, while their comrades serve more, for the sake of a value in which their comrades do not believe. What justifies that?
(I support the idea of an exemption for an outstanding minority, since the majority can be considerate of the minority in this context, but I do not see how one can justify granting such a sweeping [partial] exemption to all hesder yeshiva students)
Someone who really did professional work and submitted an orderly proposal is Moshe Feiglin—https://www.srugim.co.il/41630-%D7%A4%D7%99%D7%99%D7%92%D7%9C%D7%99%D7%9F-%D7%94%D7%A6%D7%91%D7%90-%D7%A8%D7%A7-%D7%9E%D7%A4%D7%9C%D7%92-%D7%90%D7%AA-%D7%94%D7%A2%D7%9D-%D7%99%D7%A9-%D7%9C%D7%94%D7%A4%D7%A1%D7%99%D7%A7-%D7%90.
I haven’t seen the details, and I said I don’t know whether it’s really an option—only that it is worth examining.
So what? There is negotiation and one arrives at agreements. The service is no less significant. Many people can object to various army activities. Even guarding settlements in Judea and Samaria is not agreed upon by everyone. We’ve exhausted this.
I don’t understand the argument against the “corruption” reasoning. Why should a Haredi think that “the fact that corruption is expected for you, meaning a threat to your ideology and principles, does not justify shirking your civic duties to the society in which you live”? What kind of calculation is that? After all, “corruption” means secularity, i.e. apostasy, and if over apostasy he is supposed to give up his life (like the three cardinal sins), then all the more so he should not enlist. The whole argument from morality is ridiculous. By the same token you can make the same claims against the Arabs. True, they are not in danger, but they profit from Israeli citizenship, and if they don’t want to enlist (and even worse if we are afraid to place weapons in their hands), then let them give it up. On this matter I hear silence from one end of the world to the other. So all the more so if I am Haredi, and certainly do not pose a security threat to Israeli society, I won’t give up citizenship if the choice is mine. It’s not that citizenship is given to the Arabs out of Jewish generosity, but because of fear of the world’s reaction. So these are considerations of lust for power on the part of the secular public that wants a state and public offices of authority—and for that they are willing to set aside from the productive citizens’ money in order to pay this protection money to the Arab public. In such an absurd situation, how can anyone complain to the Haredi—who also does not identify with all of society (which hates him no matter what he does)—that on the one hand he is not willing to risk his life for this lust for rule, while on the other hand he does not kindly consent to give up rights that are also granted to the enemies of that regime?
It seems to me there are levels of argument such that answering them is too embarrassing. I hope you’ll forgive me.
I think the leaders of the Haredi public take what you say into account, and if they still instruct their flock not to enlist, they will understand such a refusal to serve (though of course they will not reject willingness to defend them despite this). I assume they truly and sincerely believe that Torah protects and saves even for an ordinary Haredi, and they will not shrink from putting that faith to the test. I don’t know whether the city’s residents are ready for that, but that should be resolved in a direct conversation with them
I’d be glad if you could enlighten me. The fear of secularity is super serious. The thing that affects a person the most (his thoughts, feelings, and actions) is his environment. When a person lives in an environment that disparages God and His commandments, such a person has no chance (unless he is an exceptional person or a philosopher) of continuing to keep mitzvot or even continuing to believe over time. Quite simply, over time he will begin to see reality through the eyes of his environment, and in the end he will take on its form through unconscious imitation, just as a baby learns to walk and speak by imitating the adult environment in which he is found (and does not take a course in walking or speaking). So too interns in every profession learn the most important part of the work—that which cannot be learned from books and is acquired only through experience (which is more important than formal education)—and what Hazal call shimush talmidei chachamim [serving Torah scholars] (and it is well known that serving them is greater than studying from them). For the environment to work that way on the individual in it, it must be important in the eyes of that individual (that is why it does not affect “philosophers”). And in an environment where people look down on you with contempt (for the overwhelming majority of the time even unconsciously), there is no chance that he will influence the environment rather than the other way around.
I brought Rabbi Gutel only as supporting evidence
I think “protects and saves” means from transgressions.
(This time I didn’t delete it, in the hope that from here on you’ll write substantively.)
At your request, I’ll try to enlighten you, although everything has already been answered here ad nauseam. I’ll do so briefly.
First, even if you are completely right (and you aren’t), that still does not justify not paying your obligations. When you owe me money, you can’t evade repayment because the road to me might corrupt you. That’s your problem, and you have to solve it. Your obligations must be paid. This reminds me of Rabbi Yehezkel Abramsky’s story about Reuven, who borrowed with interest from Shimon and then brought him to a rabbinical court to demand that he return the interest to him. Such a righteous man, so careful about the laws of interest—but only after he received the loan by deceiving the lender and paid the interest himself, which is a Torah prohibition.
Second, if the fear of becoming corrupted brings you to conduct so disgraceful that it involves a terrible desecration of God’s name (and justifiably so: parasitism and becoming a burden on the public, lack of basic education, failure to share the military and economic burden, persecution of anyone who thinks differently and closing doors בפני חריגים, inventing baseless norms as articles of faith, and the like), then your worship of God is worth nothing. You need to take the risk and think how to minimize it as much as possible.
Third, factually I do not agree. There is a risk of corruption, but it is a risk and not a certainty. There is such a risk in many decisions people make (for example, living in society and not in the desert, going out to work, etc.). Beyond that, many of the corruptions stem from Haredism itself (which does not prepare you for service and disqualifies anyone who goes). I already wrote that in most cases the corruption leads to enlistment and not the other way around. In many cases the corruption is not real but only a deviation from Haredi norms.
I’ll only remind you that everyone who serves risks his ideology. He may kill unjustly and may also die. The risk of eating Rabbinate kashrut and seeing girls does not seem to me graver. This is apart from service on cotton-wool tracks offered to Haredim in order to prevent these risks.
Two final remarks:
1. The Torah was not given to ministering angels. A Torah that can be kept only by separating from the world and from society is not Torah. Torah is supposed to be realized within the world.
2. The Hasidim have a gem about the difference between Abraham our father and Noah: the latter is a righteous man in a fur coat (warming only himself), while the former is a righteous man with a stove (warming everyone in the room).
Look at the sugya I cited and you’ll be able to see that it does not.
I am Haredi. Recently I held a discussion on this topic with several kollel men and raised the four reasons presented here (fortunate that I had the same idea), but my conclusion was somewhat different. I agree with the position presented here regarding the last three reasons, but not regarding the first.
The author holds that a person is obligated to the moral principle of sharing the public burden even at the cost of a significant spiritual risk. With all due respect, this position is patently illogical; the religious worldview holds that the purpose of life is to advance in the service of God, and the obligation to share the burden is only one detail among the whole that makes up progress toward that goal. The moment one detail endangers the whole goal, it is obviously to be set aside. This is like someone agreeing to play Russian roulette in return for an upgrade in standard of living. What is the upgrade worth if there is a serious risk to life itself?
I assume the reason the author ignores this logic is:
A) either because he does not think that military service involves a significant spiritual risk;
B) or because in his opinion a risk to Haredi identity is not problematic (indeed, in his view it is good that this identity be harmed…).
C) or because a spiritual risk is not considered in his eyes such a serious problem.
And it may be that all three reasons are true.
It seems to me unnecessary to explain why the Haredi position vigorously disputes the above claims (the reality of the spiritual influence of military service on the religious-Zionist public speaks for itself. You can’t argue with facts—not even a great philosopher like the author of the column), and therefore from a Haredi perspective the avoidance of military enlistment is completely justified. Whoever does not like this can try to change the situation through legislation in the Knesset, or at least make do with anger and curses at the Haredim, and perhaps a few angry columns on the matter, as has been customary since the founding of the state. But that does not make the claim acceptable from a rational Haredi point of view.
With that said, I do think that if there were sincere will on both sides, this problem could be solved by creating an independent Haredi branch that would contribute to the security of the state without being subject to the IDF worldview. Unfortunately, I don’t think there is such a will, either מצד the Haredi public, which prefers to keep ignoring the problem as if it does not concern it, or מצד the secular public, which wants the Haredim in the army but only on its own terms—which of course will not happen.
P.S. The problem with the second reason was not explained in the column. The author may be angry about Haredi opposition to Zionism, but that is not a moral claim but an ideological one, as old as Zionism itself, and therefore it does not explain the problem with the claim according to Haredi ideology. My explanation of the problem with this claim was as follows: opposition to Zionism is a good justification only for extremists who would genuinely prefer to live in a Palestinian state rather than in partnership with the Zionists. But for the overwhelming majority of the Haredi public, who prefer to live in the State of Israel rather than in a Palestinian state even at the cost of being drafted into the Zionist army, opposition to Zionism is irrelevant. Once they chose to accept the benefits of the state, they must also bear its obligations.
By the way, regarding “Torah protects and saves,” it is proven from the sources themselves (aside from reality) that this does not necessarily work: we find in several places that Torah study did not protect the people because of various sins (David versus Ahab, the destruction of the Second Temple), which means that the concept of “Torah protects and saves” is theoretical and cannot be relied upon in reality. Based on this approach, the Radbaz argues that only a Torah scholar who agrees to forgo the guard can be exempted from paying the tax. Is the Haredi public prepared to forgo the army’s protection?
Our discussion is more similar to a case in which the borrower conducts negotiations with the lender and reaches a compromise arrangement with him, in which part of the debt is erased in exchange for some particular benefit.
That is what the Haredi public does with general society: it reaches a compromise arrangement whereby, in exchange for partial participation in the state, it is exempted from part of the civic duties. General society is not obliged to agree to this arrangement—Knesset members can unite and vote to revoke civil rights from one who does not enlist (“without loyalty there is no citizenship”), which would put the Haredim outside the state and then there would be no one left to complain about. General society chooses not to do this for various reasons—not because of pity for the poor Haredim—and therefore it has no one to complain about.
There is no limit to vacuous hairsplitting. The extortionist announces that the extorted party agreed, and therefore there is no moral problem. This is a transaction of “giving and giving,” in Peres’s phrase.
Does non-combat service also require leaving the beit midrash?
And if it’s non-combat service, is there specifically a point to doing it in the IDF, or can one contribute in other ways as well?
As for the puzzlement about what was before the Hasmoneans, the answer is that they really did die on Shabbat because they did not fight (I Maccabees and II Maccabees).
By the way, it is also written there that Judah Maccabee, before the battle of Beth-horon, released those whom the section of Shoftim says should be exempted, even though this was clearly “saving Israel from an oppressor” or an obligatory war.
I didn’t understand where the obligation is here in the case of enlistment. How exactly does the Haredi owe someone something because that person has some startup idea to establish a state (especially as it seems today that it is to provide jobs and power for himself and his friends—but let’s assume)? He certainly doesn’t owe defending him; but why does the Haredi owe defending him when he is leading him astray from the service of God (whether knowingly or unknowingly)? Today even by your own view it is agreed that a person always has some religion. If not the Torah, then another religion (like progressivism, etc.).
Indeed, the fear of corruption does not justify becoming a burden on the public, and the public certainly is not obligated to support him, but all the other claims are irrelevant. The Haredi mentality is old-fashioned East European (not to say primitive), and from that stem the lack of education and the other things you listed (such as lack of preparation, intolerance of deviation, etc.), and not from Haredism itself (proof: there were educated Haredim in Germany). So it is no more appropriate to make claims against them for this than it is to make claims against the Arabs because of their mentality. This resembles, by the way, the relation between East European Orthodox Christians and Western Protestant Christians. The former too are a kind of ultra-Orthodox Christians relative to the latter. It’s like making claims against a child for being a child. But a child is certainly more susceptible to environmental influence than a teenager or an adult. And we see that not a few religious Zionists (even modern Torah-oriented ones and not only hardline ones) also lose their fear of Heaven in the army. Perhaps in such a situation there is indeed a prohibition against being in their company—even the company of lax Haredim is bad in such a case—and this is something bordering on “be killed rather than transgress.” Fine, when it comes to work there is no choice and one has to earn a living, and a slight concern (because at work the social environment is not as tight and pressuring as in the army) does not override pikuach nefesh. But here this is not a slight concern but really a very heavy one (I’m not talking about cotton-wool tracks).
Again, I’m not interested in what prices someone else pays for his ideology. Then let him not enlist either. I believe in reward and punishment, and for me becoming secular is in the category of “be killed rather than transgress” (personally I also feel that secular life is worse than death, and the fact that they don’t feel this is the part that is worst of all)
What are you talking about? You can go out to the restroom during the lunch break, fight there, and come back to learn for the afternoon seder.
The discussion is not about contributing, but about the obligation to fulfill obligations.
I’m not sure I can accept such slander.
Is the obligation specifically the army, or any civil service?
Another question: if the army were educating toward racism, homophobia, Kahanism, etc., and held up as paragons great figures like Yigal Amir and Ben Uliel, how many secular people would enlist and how many would evade?
You can argue that in truth this too would not be justified, but even you would admit that an overwhelming majority would not think like you [and about this it was said: you are the wise ones and we are the majority].
Morally, specifically the army. Legally, whatever the law allows you in your situation without lying.
Why specifically the army? If in any case I’m not going into combat, what difference does it make whether it’s called the IDF or Magen David Adom or United Hatzalah, if in any case I’m fulfilling my duty through (physical!!) service to the state?
To neglect Torah study in order to pack and prepare food for soldiers and evacuees from the South (not pikuach nefesh)?
To neglect Torah study in order to clean the house and prepare food and go to work (not pikuach nefesh)?
At least be concerned (not fight with Hasidim who go to caves or something)
The Haredim’s second reason against enlistment (opposition to Zionism and the state). You didn’t answer that in the column.
Where is the extortion here? Why can’t the general public notify the Haredi public that it refuses such an unfair partnership and put the Haredim outside the story?
Then they also should not enjoy the state’s resources nor make use of it.
There is another claim the rabbi did not address in the column, namely that the army is not run according to the Torah but according to the narrow interests of politicians, and the Haredim are not willing to risk themselves in a war that the cabinet goes out to purely in order to make political profit and nothing more, or to risk themselves so as not to harm enemy civilians, and other such claims—that they do not trust the politicians’ system of considerations (in Benny Brown’s guide to Haredi society, in the chapter on the Haredi attitude to the state as I recall, he brings many quotations on this from Rav Shach). And of course this can be proven from the municipality of Bnei Brak or the Haredi educational institutions, which are run only according to the holy Torah and not according to any passing whim of one educational director or another
Are you serious??
The Haredim are worried about ulterior motives?!
There is no limit to the chutzpah.
What about the claim that in an obligatory war Shabbat is entirely permitted? Seemingly, according to your definition there is a large practical halakhic difference (in practice, the military rabbinate rules that Shabbat is entirely permitted. By the way, is the military rabbinate considered the mara de-atra of the IDF?)
First of all, more power to the rabbi. I agree with all the rabbi’s logical claims and with most of his learned claims.
Still, I have a question: the rabbi did not mention the fact that the Gemara in Bava Batra explicitly says that even a Torah scholar must pay for digging a water pit (“for digging a pit”), and therefore I do not understand the puzzlement according to which there is “selective use” of the concept, when the Gemara itself makes selective use (an utterly illogical distinction that the Gemara makes, if I may say so—but still), such that the Gemara itself already distinguishes between a guard tax and ordinary taxes connected to living needs, such as digging water pits.
Completely serious. It’s a familiar claim.
I can only suggest that they enlist and run the army themselves; then everything will look better.
I’m not familiar with a distinction between the types of wars, and certainly not between an obligatory war and a war that involves a mitzvah. Still less am I familiar with a practical difference between “entirely permitted” and “overridden” (though I seem to recall that Tirgitz once raised a practical difference here).
As for the status of the military rabbinate, seemingly yes, but I doubt it. It is an appointment from above of people who are not always worthy, and nowadays everyone has his own rabbis.
I certainly did mention it, and there too I explained the difference. For some reason you decided that it isn’t logical, but I assume there is some distinction behind it concerning the different types of guarding (the Gemara does not suggest that a Torah scholar should not drink).
Right. Let them enlist and then they’ll really promote them…… See the case of Brigadier General Winter and Effi Eitam. They don’t even promote right-wingers. They really are a junta. They don’t even count the political echelon. Read the article that came out in Makor Rishon today
This is a serious and even correct claim, and I say this as a religious Zionist who served in the army. What is happening now in Gaza is a scandal. Soldiers are dying for nothing so that the state won’t be boycotted and so that people can go on living at the standard of living they are used to. Instead of setting Gaza ablaze with storms of fire and killing hundreds of thousands of Gazans, without making calculations about what will be afterward, they are even willing to send their own sons to be killed and they babble about the laws of war. A bunch of lunatics
I’m unable to write a regular comment, so I’m writing here.
I really do not agree with the tone and the claim that there is no need to write about the duty to enlist because it is so obvious.
That may perhaps be simple for a person who does not believe in Torah.
But for one who believes, there are many reasons to err on this matter. (“A thousand from a tribe,” etc.)
I assume that even the rabbi himself erred on this issue in the past.
The rabbi relates to the fact that beyond halakhah and its definitions, there is the matter of obeying the laws of the state because “the law of the kingdom is the law,” etc.
So too, if an exemption is granted for preserving principles (however bizarre they may be), it should be granted by the state and not the other way around, etc.
Does the current situation, in which the state legally allows someone whose Torah is his vocation to exercise this and defer the draft,
contradict that?
(True, Ben-Gurion granted this to a few hundred, but those who came after him from right and left, possessing the mandate, sign off on it from time to time
in order to secure their political seat.)
Or as the rabbi answered here earlier: let the Haredim enlist and run the army however they like.
We too—let’s go into politics and change the law however we like.
You touched on the point only in passing, but it seems to me it is very important.
The fact that there is not really a need for all the soldiers.
In the opinion of many economists and security people, there is no need for a large army; rather a small professional army is sufficient. A sort of Israeli mercenaries, who would fill military roles. The motivation: ideology/high pay, etc.
If so, “conscription” and “the people’s army” are not military needs but Zionist ideology, like agriculture, settlement, and so on.
In the face of concepts like enlisting to save lives, war, guarding, the Haredim’s ideological claims fall away. And likewise the fear of corruption.
But when the demand to enlist is essentially ideological (“the people’s army”)—opposite that, it is morally correct to place the Haredi ideology: anti-Zionism, corruption, etc.
The Haredi will tell you: let the army be so kind as to be practical. Repeal the mandatory draft law. Induce people to enlist in the campaign with money or propaganda; build a professional army.
Then, when a secular mother buries her son, it will be because he chose that profession and was not forced.
As stated, professionally this is feasible.
As long as there is general conscription, and it is necessary in one way or another, then the Haredim too must enlist. We also don’t need all the taxes, so does that permit not paying taxes? The Haredim have had very great political power for decades; they could have initiated almost any reasonable move that would lead within a very short time to broad Haredi enlistment, and would have met far less opposition than the current use they make of their political power in order to collapse onto the public’s shoulders. If they want to abolish conscription—let them go ahead and abolish it. Let them propose a concrete plan, backed by their leaders, stand behind it, and try to push it through. What severe punishment they deserve for decades of theft, denial, and distortion of the political map—that is the next thing that needs thinking about.
1. If I am not going to combat, then what is the point of specifically the army? If in any case I’m not going into combat, what difference does it make whether it’s called the IDF or Magen David Adom or United Hatzalah, if in any case I’m fulfilling my duty through (physical!!) service to the state?
2. If I believe that Torah study does contribute and adds merit to the people of Israel, what is preferable—to sit and learn or to prepare food for soldiers?
3. What about the Gemara of “a thousand from a tribe,” etc.?
You believe that added study adds merits (“and Torah study is equal to them all”), and merits reduce the prosecution against the people of Israel… so it contributes..
You should update your arguments. The argument about the small army belongs to the fools’ paradise that existed here in the period when Bibi bribed Hamas and avoided a confrontation with Hezbollah.
Even then it was utter nonsense, because people were talking about an army in peacetime; but clearly in war they would need to draft half a million people, and that is not something you can finance with salaries.
Since Black Sabbath they updated the version, and now they are talking about the need to enlarge the army drastically.
Already starting next year they will lengthen compulsory service by an additional four months for secular men, and the number of reserve days will probably double.
They also wrote about Otzchar that it is more dangerous than any pornographic site
And they didn’t understand how much that site saves, even from the Haredi point of view. It gives an outlet and a possibility of raising questions instead of repressing them in the Haredi way, which in many cases leads to an explosion.
It’s very interesting that avoiding enlistment in order to study Torah (for a certain number of people) is justified “so that there will be something to exist for,” whereas avoiding enlistment in order to fulfill the Torah properly (not to eat Rabbinate kashrut or see a woman in pants) is not justified.
This is not the place to discuss the standards of Rabbinate kashrut or the matter of women wearing pants, but it is enough that there are people who see these as negative things for them to refrain from enlisting because of them.
Only this morning I received: https://www.ynet.co.il/news/article/hyienehup?utm_source=ynet.app.android&utm_medium=social&utm_campaign=general_share&utm_term=hyienehup&utm_content=Header
What does the rabbi do with this?
“Rabbi Yehoshua ben Levi said: What is the meaning of that which is written, ‘Our feet were standing within your gates, O Jerusalem’ (Psalms 122:2)? What caused our feet to stand firm in war? The gates of Jerusalem, where they were occupied with Torah.”
Sanhedrin 49a:
“Rabbi Abba bar Kahana said: Were it not that David engaged in Torah, Joab would not have waged war; and were it not that Joab waged war, David would not have engaged in Torah.
As it is written, ‘And David administered justice and righteousness to all his people. And Joab the son of Zeruiah was over the army’ (II Samuel 8:15–16).
Why did David administer justice and righteousness to all his people? Because Joab was over the army.
And why was Joab over the army? Because David administered justice and righteousness to all his people.”
“A thousand from a tribe, a thousand from a tribe”
I didn’t understand the question. What am I supposed to do with these worn-out quotations?
BS”D, ערב ראש חודש טבת 5784
Talmud Torah is a great mitzvah, and “helping Israel against an oppressor” is also a great mitzvah. Regarding the relationship between Torah study and the other mitzvot,
it is said in Shulchan Arukh, Yoreh De‘ah 246:18: “Torah study is equal to all the mitzvot. If one has before him the performance of a mitzvah and Torah study—if the mitzvah can be done by others, he should not interrupt his study; if not, he should do the mitzvah and return to his Torah.” And the source of these words is the Gemara, that regarding a mitzvah that can be done by others it is said, “All desirable things are not equal to it”—even desirable things of Heaven.
There is reason to say that even if there is no shortage of soldiers who are not Torah students, there is an advantage in Torah-observant fighters, whose fighting out of faith and deep consciousness adds courage and strength to the soldiers. But for that, the fighter needs a solid military and Torah foundation. One who comes to the army out of years of diligence and depth in yeshiva has a chance that his Torah will add to his military contribution. Therefore there is value in frameworks such as pre-military academies, hesder yeshivot, or Hesder Merkaz and Stage B and the like, whose soldiers come to the army from a solid Torah base and, together with proper military training, make a significant contribution to the army.
But I find it hard to see a real military need for someone who will run to the army straight from the yeshiva bench and undergo a hasty basic training of two weeks. I fear he may have a good feeling that he “did something,” but a real contribution to the success of the fighting—I find it hard to see. An “obligatory war” requires proper “preparation for a mitzvah.”
In this war there was a lieutenant colonel who ran, without authorization, to fight in Gaza, and the army dismissed him because his “heroic volunteering” came at the expense of his role in the Ground Forces Training Center, a role perhaps less impressive but no less vital.
With blessing, Fish”L
One thing Torah scholars might be able to contribute, whose importance is beyond measure, is filling in for teachers and yeshiva lecturers who have been called up for reserve duty. When I was in twelfth grade at Netiv Meir during the Yom Kippur War, my teacher, Rabbi Nissan Kaplan, was drafted for several months. His place was filled by Prof. Haym Soloveitchik (son of the Rav) and after him by Rabbi Yosef Ben-Porat (son-in-law of the yeshiva head Rabbi Aryeh Bina)
The added value of strengthening the bond to Judaism in order to reinforce the fighting spirit exists not only among mitzvah-observant people. Therefore I proposed a “categorical deferment,” according to which every three years of Jewish-studies learning would count as one year of service in the IDF. It is preferable that the soldier serve less time in the army, while acquaintance with “the light within Judaism” will enhance the quality of his military service.
With blessing, Fish”L
This video is very suitable for sharing under this column
https://x.com/AryeErlich/status/1734529188160282845?t=tJ_cBboCdBTbjoie4dgE1g&s=08
The one who expounded “until it is subdued, even on Shabbat” was Shammai, not, as our master wrote, the court of the Hasmoneans.
From here I learn that even our master remembered subconsciously what is explained in the Book of Maccabees cited above.
In my opinion many of those who were corrupted in the army already came half-corrupted, and secondly why does their fear of being corrupted override the fear of religious-Zionists being corrupted?
And what about secular people’s fear of losing their human image in the territories?
Anyone can come up with excuses from every quarter
Deleted; here is a partial replacement
https://twitter.com/AviRabina/status/1734517883433075138
It seems to me that one can offer a simpler solution to the contradiction in Rambam regarding an obligatory war: in chapter 6, halakhah 4, Rambam is discussing the law of offering peace, in accordance with what is written in the Torah: “Only the women, the little ones, the cattle, and all that is in the city, all its spoil, you shall take as booty for yourself… Thus shall you do to all the cities that are very far from you, which are not of the cities of these nations. But of the cities of these peoples, whom the Lord your God gives you for an inheritance, you shall save alive nothing that breathes… that they not teach you to do according to all their abominations, which they have done for their gods; and so you would sin against the Lord your God.” What emerges from the verses is that the law of “you shall save alive nothing that breathes” in the event that the city does not surrender is said only regarding the Canaanite nations, because there there is a concern that leaving them alive (when they did not surrender and accept the Noahide commandments) will lead them to cause Israel to sin. If so, there is no difficulty with Rambam for not mentioning also a war to aid Israel against an oppressor, for although according to him it is an obligatory war, still one must let the women and children live.
There in halakhah 1 one sees that he is speaking about all wars, and in all of them one kills the enemy unless they accepted the seven commandments.
“And without making calculations about what will be afterward”—is that a serious argument too?
Certainly. That is how the state arose, for example, and that is how we won the Six-Day War. If we had made calculations there, we would have had to commit suicide. The meaning of mutual responsibility is not only one for all, but all for one. What matters is that there not be stupid and meaningless death. Meaninglessness is the worst thing here, not death. If all of us suffer suffering that has meaning (that is, that will ultimately bring about a good end), that will be a thousand times better than even one soldier who dies a meaningless death.
All the wicked people in the world are people who make calculations about what will be afterward, and they lack faith in justice (they don’t want to come out suckers) and in the fact that crime doesn’t pay.
It’s very strange to me that you don’t understand this on your own.
I innocently thought that there could not be a person worse than Bibi as prime minister. I was wrong.
The problem is not what you think, but that you don’t think—only emote. If you don’t understand what I said, then I certainly do not want to be your prime minister or serve with you in the same army. If indeed most of the army thinks like you, then it’s fortunate that I left reserve service before the age of exemption.
Kol dikhfin
= everyone who is hungry
Somehow by mistake it was adopted into Hebrew instead of “everyone who wants,” “everyone interested,” and the like.
It slipped in by mistake from the Passover Haggadah.
It would be proper for the honorable rabbi to correct this
In practice, I think only the second argument (anti-Zionism) is the only one that really holds water. But even that, not always.
It mainly holds water for those who don’t hold the stick from both ends—that is, those who also don’t take money from the state (and as is well known, those can be counted on one hand).
And as such it’s no different from the conscientious objection that was common here in the 1990s–2000s (they too are despicable and marked the beginning of Israel’s social decadence, and I’ll even venture to say that this very thing, like a butterfly effect, influenced the creation of a new right-wingism—and I make no apology for HaTzel, a hero of Israel…) as a kind of “horseshoe diagram,” with the children of moonlight at one end and the administrative detainees from the hilltops at the other—and what they have in common: they don’t enlist…
And on the other hand, we should cut off this unwritten and pathetic contract with the Haredim. If so, then all the way—like Arabs. True, they aren’t a fifth column a la Guardian of the Walls, and they’re our brothers and all that, but enough already. (On the other hand, if one falls into this comparison, it only reminds us that between the desirable and the actual there is a yawning abyss, and what is seen from the philosopher’s / talkback-writer’s computer is not what is seen in reality).
Beyond that (all the rest: the extortionist Shasniks, the loutish hooligans with forelocks and the internal contradiction, the fools of the Peleg), all of them together answer in terror and say in awe: crushed, crushed, crushed—and no peppery sophistry is worth a thing.
Even without resorting to the (somewhat ridiculous, by the way, and highly utilitarian) handful of Haredim who “do us a favor” and “make a splash” and wax poetic about their military service in some commando unit at a training base for a full two weeks (!) (!!), as though by this they are saving the nation from every evil disease that may not come upon the world. As though all this won’t come back to us like a boomerang at six o’clock after the war—“look, you see,” etc. etc.
Not from their sting and not from their honey. Let them enlist like the rest of us.
Or else let’s stop this whole bit of being forced laborers for people who, the higher they climb the ranks (from brigadier general upward, on the way to MKs and up to Bibiyahu), start to smell the stink of the fish from the head, and to recalculate the route at the expense of the rank-and-file soldiers who get shafted in the various systems and rounds.
Woe is me from my inclination (—HaChalonot HaGvohim) and woe is me from my Maker (—or the wearers of black who supposedly speak in His name).
How hard it is today to be a right-wing religious person. It’s not walking between the drops; it’s running in zigzags between machine-gun bullets.