Introduction

They weren’t supposed to fight.
At Israel’s founding in 1948, the new nation’s leaders agreed that ultra-Orthodox men — known as the Haredim, or God-fearing, in Hebrew — would be spared from mandatory military service. In exchange, Haredi leaders lent their support for the largely secular state.
The arrangement held for Israel’s first 75 years, until the Hamas-led attack on Oct. 7, 2023.
The resulting war in Gaza pulled hundreds of thousands of Israelis into battle — but hardly any ultra-Orthodox. The dynamic exacerbated tensions that had been simmering for years.

The Haredim and Military Service

The Haredim, who average more than six children per family, now make up 14 percent of the nation, up from 5 percent in 1948. In 40 years, they are on track to account for half of all Israeli children.
As the numbers of Haredim have grown, many Israelis have become frustrated that their own sons and daughters are sent to fight while the Haredim receive government subsidies to study the Torah.

Transforming Dilemma

Last summer, the tensions broke open. Under pressure, the Israeli Supreme Court ruled that ultra-Orthodox men were no longer exempt from service. The military has since sent draft orders to 10,000 Haredi men. Just 338 have shown up for duty.
Israel is now confronting one of its messiest and most fundamental dilemmas: Its fastest growing sect won’t serve in the military.

Diverse Perspectives within Haredim

After the Supreme Court decision, The New York Times began following three Haredi teenagers who represent the divergent paths for the Haredims and Israel:

Chaim Krausz

Chaim Krausz, 19, studies the Torah for 14 hours a day, just like his father before him. He has protested the Supreme Court decision and believes armed service is not only a sin, but also a threat to ultra-Orthodox traditions.

Itamar Greenberg

Itamar Greenberg, 18, a former ultra-Orthodox seminary student, has also protested against the Israeli state, but his reasons are not religious. “They’ve been committing a massacre in Gaza,” he said.

Yechiel Wais

Yechiel Wais, 19, also once studied in a seminary, but had dreams of a life outside his strict ultra-Orthodox community and left for the work force. Then his draft orders arrived.
“It’s not an entry ticket to Israeli society,” Mr. Wais said of a position in the Israeli military. “But it’s the minimum requirement.”

Personal Journeys

Chaim Krausz’s Journey

Growing up, Mr. Krausz wore a black-and-white suit. Like most ultra-Orthodox males, it was practically his only outfit.
But one year for Purim, a Jewish holiday when many children wear costumes, he dressed up as an Israeli soldier. He lived near an Israel Air Force base and loved watching the F-16 fighter jets from behind a fence.

Itamar Greenberg’s Journey

In the weeks before his new life in the military, Mr. Wais headed out for a night out with friends. Sliding into the car, Mr. Wais wrinkled his nose and said, “The lefty sitting next to me is sweaty.”
That “lefty” he referred to was his friend, Mr. Greenberg, who was indeed far to the left ideologically — and sweaty. He had come directly from an antiwar demonstration and had stickers on his shirt to show for it.

Yechiel Wais’s Journey

He found a job outside Tel Aviv. Then, when he heard about the Supreme Court decision, he found a new path, fighting for his country.

Haredim and Israeli Society

They also formed a Haredi ultrasound unit, and their barracks and lunch tables were separated from other soldiers to avoid mixing with women, which could violate Haredi principles. Their food was cooked to even stricter kosher standards. They prayed and studied religious texts for two to three hours a day — the most Mr. Wais said he had studied since leaving the seminary.
“We are in the middle of the biggest war of all,” the rabbi, David Viseman, told the teenagers.
“You have to prepare your souls to cling to goodness in the world,” he added. “To erase evil.”