Last week’s events in Jerusalem have left a bruise on the city’s soul and, by extension, on the fabric of Israeli society as a whole.
The ultra-Orthodox, or haredi, communities who so forcefully asserted themselves in the city did not just make a statement about the draft – they made a statement about their relationship with the very country they call home.
While their display of unity may seem, to them, like a show of power in the fight against conscription, the truth is far more complicated. The harshest consequences of such actions often land not on their intended opponents, but on the community itself.
It’s easy to focus on policy debates or the heat of the moment. Yet beneath the surface, something more significant is at play: a breakdown in the fundamental social contract binding Israelis together.
A fraying social contract
Relationships, whether between individuals, communities, or the nation itself, are not abstract. They depend on a basic sense of fairness. Psychologists call this “balanced reciprocity.”
In layman’s terms, it means that people give and take in roughly equal measure.
There’s an implicit agreement: if you help me, I will help you. It doesn’t necessarily mean an exact balance or that it must happen in tandem.
It just means that there is a sense that we can rely on one another to be there for each other. That’s how trust is built. That’s how neighbors become citizens of the same nation, even when they disagree.
When any group, haredi or otherwise, positions itself as only taking, never giving, it disrupts this delicate balance.
By standing apart from national responsibilities like military service, while still benefiting from the systems and protections the state provides, haredi leaders risk something more precious than political leverage.
They risk alienation from the broader civic community. Over time, this breeds resentment.
What might feel, in the short term, like successful resistance can in fact be self-defeating. It erodes the goodwill that makes Israeli society resilient in the face of challenge.
A growing divide
This erosion doesn’t happen in isolation. It echoes across generations, shaping how young Israelis, both secular and religious, understand duty, belonging, and fairness.
When one sector is exempted from the shared burdens of security and service it sends a message that participation is optional, and that citizenship can be transactional rather than communal.
The IDF, for all its flaws, remains one of the few institutions where Israelis from every walk of life still meet, cooperate, and form bonds that transcend ideology.
When large groups step away from that shared experience – which is not summer camp – and puts their lives on the line, the country loses one of its last remaining crucibles of unity.
Hatred and suspicion are easy weapons to wield in the short term. They can unify a community under siege. However, they also destroy bridges. The aftermath of last week’s demonstration is not just measured in blocked streets or political headlines.
It’s measured in lost trust, in the growing distance between Israelis who see themselves as compatriots. The damage here is not limited to outsiders looking in – it cuts deepest for those who isolate themselves behind walls, real or imagined.
Israel’s founding fathers understood this danger well. The notion of mutual responsibility, arevut hadadit, which is a central tenet and value in Halacha (Jewish law), was not just a slogan but a survival mechanism.
From the early kibbutzim to the immigrant absorption programs, Israeli cohesion was built on the understanding that everyone must contribute something, even if unequally.
To abandon that principle now, especially amid rising internal and external pressures, is to gamble with the very cohesion that has allowed the nation to endure.
In the end, every community in Israel has a stake in balanced reciprocity. Without it, the country cannot function, not as a democracy, not as a people bound by a common future.
Haredi leaders and their followers face a choice: either they continue down a path of separation, or they embrace a model of citizenship built, as ever, on the simple principle that one hand washes the other.
Israel’s strength has always lain in its ability to come together in times of need. It would be a tragedy if any of us forgot that now.
Dr. Michael J. Salamon is a psychologist specializing in trauma and abuse and director of ADC Psychological Services in Netanya and Hewlett, NY. Louis Libin is an expert in military strategies, wireless innovation, emergency communications, and cybersecurity.