Conflicted Emotions and Unfinished Wars

I have had a number of conflicting emotional thoughts about a confluence of events which, at first glance, might not seem related . And yet I believe they are profoundly intertwined. I’ll try to express them as clearly as possible without rambling. So here goes.

If Hamas refuses to disarm in short order, the president has made it abundantly clear — in no uncertain terms and on multiple occasions — that “we will eradicate them.” As the Daily Wire headline succinctly put it:

“Trump: ‘End to Hamas Will Be Fast, Furious & Brutal.’”

That seems to be the likely scenario in the coming days (or weeks, depending on how much time the president decides to give Hamas to comply). It will be the IDF that does it.

Sadly, I find myself in complete agreement with Mali Brofsky. My heart goes out to her and others like her for what they have gone through and continue to go through. She wrote the following in the Times of Israel:

For those of us with family members in the army, that see war is not over. Our loved ones are holding the line against the Hamas terrorists who are constantly testing the boundaries. Our soldiers will be the ones to ‘take care of it’ (in the parlance of the president of the United States) if Hamas does not disarm.

I can tell you that I am still holding my breath. I am still not sleeping at night. And I am not alone. There are countless parents with children in active service and in the reserves — some with one in each. There are wives waiting anxiously for their husbands’ return; one newly married woman moves back and forth between the apartment she should be sharing with her husband and her parents’ home, praying for his safety. There are mothers caring for four young children on their own while their husbands guard Israel’s many fronts.

For those brave Israelis who have risked their lives in combat with these 21st-century Islamist Nazis - the war is not over. It will resume soon, likely with more ferocity than before. As much as I hope and pray that I am wrong, and that Hamas will lay down its arms and disappear, I fear that will not happen. Sadly, more blood will be spilled. Plenty of it.

When I predicted that the ceasefire deal would be a win for Israel, I was careful to include the possibility that such a ‘win’ might take the form of the complete destruction of an unrepentant Hamas. One that still believes it can survive even in defeat. Should that happen, Prime Minister Netanyahu will have the full backing of the president to do whatever is necessary to finish the job.

If the world again declares him a war criminal because of the inevitable Palestinian casualties — well, that has already happened. Israel will do what it must to ensure its security, and only then can the business of peace proceed as envisioned in the original agreement.

Meanwhile, across the ocean in New York City, another scene has unfolded. Tens of thousands gathered to protest in front of the Israeli consulate. But this time, it wasn’t the usual crowd of progressive anti-Israel activists. It was Satmar Chasidim. The two Satmar Rebbes - brothers who have long vied for leadership of the sect joined forces to condemn Israel. Not for its conduct in the war, but for its ‘’audacity” in seeking to draft Charedim into the IDF.

This is what outrages them. This is what animates their anger and frustration. Not the loss of Israeli lives. Not the soldiers who have fallen or been wounded. That, apparently, does not move them to gather in protest - or in support. On the contrary, they believe that the State of Israel is the creation of the devil, and that the IDF serves him, even if the soldiers themselves are unaware of it.

They claim to have waited until the war was over and the hostages returned before holding this protest. The problem is — as noted — it is not over. Are they unaware of Hamas’s obstinance? And what it will inevitably lead to?

The non-Chasidic Yeshiva world in Israel, led by two elderly Roshei Yeshiva, shares Satmar’s outrage  though for slightly different reasons. Their students are the ones being called to register for the draft, some even arrested for refusing to do so. Their Yeshivos have also lost the substantial government funding they long received while enjoying draft exemption. Now they face a dual crisis: the fear of conscription and the challenge of survival without state stipends.

I have no doubt the Yeshiva world takes some comfort in Satmar’s support, even though they share little else in common.

Still, I cannot help but feel anger and depression when I see tens of thousands of Chasidim protesting the draft  while Jewish soldiers, many of them religious, have laid down their lives for their people and are likely to be called upon to do so again.

I feel the same anger when I hear two revered Roshei Yeshiva publicly declare their agreement with Satmar’s position on the evil that is State of Israel. While they themselves live within its borders, enjoy its benefits, and contribute nothing to its defense. Others are spilling blood; they are not.

I have in the past been beyond angry about this state of affairs in the observant world.

And yet, setting aside these two painful issues (which should never be ignored), I still  respect both communities. Satmar’s piety and their extraordinary generosity toward fellow Jews in need are legendary. Their sense of family and communal solidarity is something to behold.

Likewise, the Yeshiva world’s devotion to Torah study is unparalleled. Many there willingly forgo comfortable middle-class lives in order to dedicate themselves to learning. And in both communities, there are individuals who manage to achieve great financial success while remaining deeply committed to their ideals. I do not - and cannot - dismiss them.

But I cannot understand how the very religious values that define these communities can lead them so far astray from what I believe to be the Derech HaYashar — the straight path.

How can people whose religious lives are built upon self-sacrifice fail to appreciate the sacrifices of others? How can they protest a government that seeks only to spread the burden more equally? How can Satmar, and those who think like them, not recognize the heroism of others who are risking everything. While they do nothing?

Even if they disagree with the policies, how can they not at least respect the sacrifice?