Q&A: Your Position Regarding the Hesder Track
Your Position Regarding the Hesder Track
Question
Hello Rabbi,
In a responsum that was published on the site in the past, you wrote that in your opinion returning to yeshiva is more important than extending military service for the sake of a command role. You wrote things in a similar spirit in answers to similar questions, where your main claim was the contribution of the hesder track to the building of the nation and the spirit for whose sake we fight.
As someone standing at this decision point, I find it hard to accept that justification wholeheartedly (I’m not rejecting it, it’s just hard for me). Is it enough to be an average student in yeshiva in order to claim that you are benefiting the state? In your opinion, does it matter what the goals of that young man’s learning are, and what the nature of his learning is like?
I’m curious to hear what you think.
Answer
Hello.
First of all, I know of only one sweeping rule that is true in all circumstances and for all people, and that is that there is no sweeping rule that is true in all circumstances and for all people. Clearly, each person has an answer that suits him. When I was asked for a general position, I answered that in my opinion, if a general directive is needed, learning in yeshiva is preferable.
Let me begin by saying that in my experience, many young men feel frustration and discomfort with themselves because of the inequality in the military burden. I’ve explained on the site more than once that this is unjustified. On the contrary, they bear more of the burden than an ordinary soldier does (they serve more years, and in a mission that is no less important and perhaps more so).
First, there are fewer candidates to fulfill this mission than there are for roles in the army (where the general public shares the burden). Second, the mission of the yeshiva is, in my view, much more important, because it is passing the torch onward and building your Jewish life going forward. Life is certainly important, but the purpose of life is no less important. The army protects life, but Torah is the purpose of life. In addition, the shortened service allows these young men to remain available and fit when needed (in war), and therefore they fully do their share in the burden of protecting life. It is only in routine security service that there is some inequality, but the same is true of learning as well (the secular and those not in yeshivot do not bear this important burden). And of course the same is true of soldiers who do not participate in actual combat. Wearing a uniform is not sacred, and nobody will convince me that serving at the military canteen, or in an army band, or being a clerk, is more important than learning in yeshiva just because they wear uniforms for three years.
Discussion on Answer
Hello Y.,
First of all, it seems to me that you didn’t understand the argument. I was talking about availability in the reserves, not during their yeshiva years. But even during the yeshiva years they are more available than reservists, and the estimate of a week sounds to me like an urban legend. Even reservists get there faster than a week from their homes. They can be mobilized from the yeshiva in one day, certainly in an emergency situation (in most cases there is enough advance warning).
The content and purpose of the learning are less important. The very fact that they are learning Torah is what matters. It is not learning intended to achieve some concrete goal.
I didn’t understand what was wrong with my tone at the end. I mentioned the military canteen not as an argument that all soldiers serve there. I brought it as an example of another kind of service that is regarded as legitimate (certainly when we’re talking about clerical work and logistics), and compared with it, learning in yeshiva certainly does not fall short (as I said, in my opinion it does not fall short even of combat service). For some reason, yeshiva students constantly torment themselves with guilt over equality in sharing the burden, while soldiers in uniform—most of whom by an overwhelming majority do not serve in combat roles (it seems to me the ratio is something like 1 combat soldier to 10 others)—do not torment themselves over this. That is what I wrote about.
Hello.
Following your response, I read again what you wrote, and I saw that I had indeed not understood it correctly. Sorry, and thank you for the clarification.
On the substance of the argument, it seems to me that the proper situation is that both the military-canteen guys and the hesder yeshiva boys should ask themselves whether they are making the most of their ability to contribute, rather than both groups avoiding feelings of guilt. I don’t think guilt feelings should determine the decision, but they should be taken into account, and the moral question should be examined.
A side question: in your signature you ask that questions be sent through the blog’s system. Is the goal to publish the questions on the blog, or to reduce the load on your personal email inbox? Practically speaking—should I switch to asking there? I’d prefer that my questions not be published..
The questions are published there one way or another, but with complete anonymity for the person asking.
It’s more convenient for me if the questions come through there, both so as not to overload the email and to make it easier for me to transfer them there.
No problem, next time I’ll ask through there.
On this occasion I want to thank you for your comprehensive and systematic writing, for the directness and sharpness with which you present your positions, and for your quick and clear response to everyone who turns to you with a question.
You deal with the most fundamental and foundational issues, including ones that are hardly ever opened up for serious discussion.
Until I came across your books, I could sometimes look at a full Torah library and discover that there wasn’t even a single book there that interested me. You opened worlds for me, and I owe you enormous thanks for that.
Thank you, and good luck.
In my opinion, hesder is a religious dodge of the lowest kind. Religious people aren’t the only ones who have values that matter to them no less than military service. Learn Torah on your own time, not at the expense of the three years that others give. The Holy One, blessed be He, doesn’t like religious schemers..
You’re mixing up the state’s considerations with the considerations of a private individual. The question was whether it is appropriate for a religious young man to serve במסגרת the hesder framework, and that is what I answered. The question of whether it is appropriate for the state to allow this is a different question, one that depends on broader considerations. I disagree with you on that too, but that’s a different discussion.
Thank you for the quick answer.
As for your claim about the availability of yeshiva students—we recently spoke with our company commander, who used to be Religious Zionist but is no longer religious, and comes from a hesder family, and we raised this argument with him. He answered that even when hesder yeshiva boys are called up quickly, it will still take at least a week (!) before they are relevant for combat. In other words, their share in the burden of protecting life is not equal to that of regular combat soldiers.
If you were talking about the role of the learners as those who pass on the torch, I have to repeat the question you didn’t answer—does the content and purpose of the learning really not matter? Is there no difference between learning for the sake of self-discovery, for its own sake, or for the sake of broadening one’s horizons, for example? In your opinion, can every such goal justify shortened service?
And one more small note: I also don’t believe in the sanctity of uniforms, and certainly not in the sanctity of three-exalted-years-of-service-at-the-military-canteen. But that’s not really comparable to the dilemma between yeshiva and serving as a commander who can influence the professionalism of his soldiers and thereby contribute, not remotely, to the security of the state. So the tone at the end rubbed me the wrong way a bit (and yes, I read your article on content and style, and I agree with it too).