
1.
A week or so ago, I happened upon, quite by chance, a Mincha prayer at a central synagogue in a very Haredi area in the Ramot neighborhood of Jerusalem. It is a complex of several minyanim concentrated in one area, and in all of them the prayer took place outside the synagogue, in the scorching heat, with all the worshippers wearing masks, of course, and also wearing hats and suits, of course.
After the prayer, the rabbi of the Lithuanian minyan proudly showed me the area in the yard that had been prepared that morning by a tractor for the High Holy Day prayers: "Here sat 30 people," he explained, "here by the fence another 20, and there by the path another 15.".
He did not complain about the decisions and restrictions of the Ministry of Health, but was deeply immersed in his own plan - how to get as many young men as possible into the open air, in accordance with the instructions, into the small courtyard of the synagogue on Rosh Hashanah.
The next day, again completely by chance, I prayed in a Lithuanian synagogue. I was driving on the Jerusalem-Tel Aviv highway, and the setting sun brought me into the Haredi settlement of Telz-Ston for the mincha prayer at the Bnei HaYeshiva synagogue.
This time the prayer took place inside the synagogue, not outside, but it was divided into many small capsules. Each group of worshippers sat in a different area, fenced off by high nylon partitions. On the bulletin boards at the entrance to the synagogue were countless notices with instructions and rulings and warnings and boycotts and curfews regarding the coronavirus.
One of them caught my eye because it had this illustration of small squares with V and X markings inside. "To maintain good order," it said, "you should sit in a checkerboard pattern: on the first bench, sit on the right and the second on the left. On the bench after that, sit on the left and the second on the right, and so on. Of course, the right of way is for those with regular seats (whose names are written on the seats). Members of the same family can sit next to each other.".
And if that's not enough, then at the exit from the synagogue, in a cardboard box, there were thick pamphlets for sale: 'I Will Come to Your House - Prayer Laws During a Pandemic, Taking into Account the Problems That Have Arose in Our Times.'.
Here are just a few of the contents: "Maintaining health - all your actions will be for the sake of heaven", "Nature as a manifestation of the will and the Creator's command", "The severity of the obligation to observe the command of nature", "The place of prayer in the first place", "Praying alone on Rosh Hashanah", "A place surrounded by partitions", "Laws found when praying at home", "Combining the enrichment with each other when in one place and not seeing each other", "Combining by a Shatz standing on the street in front of the building", "Seeing through a glass partition" and many other halachic issues related to prayer under the restrictions of the pandemic.
I got back into the car and onto the Jerusalem-Tel Aviv highway, and all the way I thought to myself: Wow, these Lithuanians took the Ministry of Health's instructions a little too seriously. They're missing something serious. They'll soon start to drink alcohol.
2.
This week, when the news repeatedly talked about "the Haredim and the Arabs" as centers of infection and a danger to the country, I remembered these two synagogues and was offended for the worshipers there.
Telles-Stone may have barely escaped the nightly lockdown, but deep down, Ramot is a mess. For months, you pray outside the synagogue, or sit inside it in a checkerboard pattern between nylon partitions, being stricter than everyone else about the laws of the coronavirus, writing pamphlets about them - and in the end, you are remembered in the same breath ("Bahda Mahta," as the "Yeshiva" synagogue people would probably say) with Arabs who dance in their thousands at weddings and pose a danger to the country. The law of the ridges is the same as the law of the Baqa al-Gharbiya.
And we can add to this insult the attitude towards Torah students. After all, if there is one thing that the Haredim were much more than okay with, it is the story of the yeshivots: tens of thousands of young people voluntarily entered yeshivot isolation for days before the start of school, and they actually intend to continue it until after Yom Kippur. All so that the time of Elul can take place as usual. I stayed in the house of God for a month and a half.
But what can be done, after all the effort, planning, and investment, both by the yeshiva administrations and the young men, the numbers on those infected started to arrive, and from there to talk about yeshiva as a danger to the country, the road is short.
And there's a lot of talk. How painful it is to be locked down. The whole country is celebrating freely, thousands gather at Balfour, crowds gather at Machane Yehuda, on the beaches, in the malls, at parties. A country in complete chaos, no one gives clear instructions, there is no outline with a vision for the future, there is only one decision: to suffocate these Haredim with their little children in their crowded homes.
How insulting, how painful.
3.
And after all of this, I think the reactions of many of the representatives of the Haredi public this week, in the Knesset, in local authorities and of course in the media, were beside the point. They spoke with pain (understandable), anger (understandable), but also with a lack of awareness of how they sound to non-Haredi ears (less understandable), arrogance (incomprehensible) and power (really incomprehensible).
There's nothing to be done. The relations of the Haredim with the rest of the citizens of Israel have been complex, for generations. From the days of Ben-Gurion to the days of Ofer Shelah (no, I really don't think he will be the next prime minister. I just say to myself the phrase 'Ofer Shelah' every few minutes to remind myself that there was also good news this week).
A Torah scholar who has been sitting in a yeshiva for over a month and studying Torah is worthy of appreciation and even admiration in my opinion. Even on days when IDF soldiers are fighting fiercely on the battlefield, the person in front of the stand plays a critical role in the alignment of forces. And certainly in days of a pandemic like this, when we so need help from heaven.
But what can be done? Unfortunately, most of Israeli society doesn't exactly understand the importance of studying Torah. Still doesn't. This is no reason, God forbid, for someone whose Torah is his art to close the Gemara and enlist in the army. It's also no reason for the country's ultra-Orthodox citizens not to enjoy the rights they deserve, like any other citizen. But it is certainly a reason for the ultra-Orthodox elected officials to understand that they cannot behave with power and arrogance.
Yes, dear MKs and mayors, keep your noses down. Don't get carried away by young ultra-Orthodox Twitterers who urge you to "not be suckers" and "get into this ultra-Orthodox-hating mess.".
Gamzo doesn't hate Haredi. I don't know him, but I know his statements, and they are not anti-Haredi. True, he made a serious mistake with that letter to the president of Ukraine, and even before that he made a mistake in the disparaging way in which he explained why he opposes - and rightly so! - this year's trip to Uman. He should have been careful not to offend something that is so dear and sacred to so many Jews (by the way, most of whom are not Haredi at all).
But even his mistakes should not make him an enemy of the Haredi public. Why? Because he is not an enemy of the Haredi public. That's fine, the Haredi have enough real enemies in the Israeli public. There is no need to look for new ones.
4.
And here we come to the second weak point of the Haredi sector, because of which its representatives in politics should lower their heads a little in these complex times and not the other way around. And the point is: the numbers. Yes, despite the excessive caution of many Haredi, in the end the pandemic hits them in large numbers, many times more than any other sector in Israeli society.
Why? First of all, because of the great blessing of the Haredi way of life, which suddenly became a factor of danger: the size of the family, the size of the tribe, the community, the Hasidism, the yeshiva. Blessed be God. Without the evil eye. The Haredim live in huge groups.
Now, let's say a protester gets infected at the outrageous demonstration in Balfour. Well, then he returns home to Tel Aviv, who will he infect? The one he'll be sitting with tomorrow at the little neighborhood cafe? And who will he infect? His roommate? In contrast, an ultra-Orthodox person who gets infected and comes home is a ticking time bomb that can generate ripples that will reach hundreds of people in the first circle.
And there is another reason for the high numbers. I started this column with the mega-hardness of Lithuanians during the Corona era. But there are also Hasidim in the Haredi sector. I have no idea how the historical dispute between the students of the Baal Shem Tov and the students of the Gra is related to wearing a mask and adhering to social distancing, but the fact is that the Hasidic sector is less strict.
Wait, important clarification: There are Hasidisms like Gur Hanikit and Sanz and Karlin-Stolin and Boyan and other courtyards that are very careful. But there are also those that are not. How do I know? Did I go check in the shtevels and the bathes midrash? No. There is no need to take any chances.
Very simply, every Thursday I open the Haredi weeklies and look at the collage of photos from events in the Haredi world. Three and a half minutes of Shuki Lerer - and I know very well who is very conservative, who is so-so, and who is acting irresponsibly. And I tell you with great sadness, with shame: There are photos there that should make the suffering Haredi public turn the fire inward, not just outward.
Is the nighttime curfew in Beitar Illit difficult for you? My heart goes out to you. But before you accuse the government of encouraging anti-Semitism and negative stigmas against a precious and wonderful sector, blame those within your city who are endangering your lives and, along the way, your good name.
5.
So, honorable Haredi MKs, the dear public that you represent with dedication has enough fundamental issues to fight for. There are and will be more. Leave the Corona virus behind. It is actually a rare historical opportunity for true unity among all parts of the people. After all, in the end, despite all the correct criticism of the government's conduct, we are all together fighting this virus here, which does not distinguish between sectors.
So why emphasize the different, the polarizing? Why not be a little statesmanlike during such a major national crisis?
And you know what? For the Haredim, there is truly historic momentum here. Even an opportunity to lead. We are not in the Yom Kippur War or the Lebanon War (blessed be God). Nor in Operation Entebbe. We are on a civilian front, where the Haredim have a notable advantage and the ability to lead, with the charitable organizations, with the spirit of giving and mutual guarantee, with tens of thousands of volunteers. Many Haredim are indeed on this front, but not at the front.
In the media, we hear the voices that speak harshly about how much the Haredim hate us, but we will still see this anti-Semitic Gamzo. Everything is good, except Gamzo. Too bad. You don't sound good. Don't attack Gamzo, show him and everyone what Haredi society knows how to do when it wants to. You were the ones who projected the Corona.
• The column is published in the newspaper 'Bisheva''