Taking a Page from General Schwarzkopf's Book

“You risk your lives, and we spend time in yeshiva. You’re welcome.”

On August 2nd, 1990, the Iraqi army invaded Kuwait, sending approximately 100,000 troops over the border while its air force bombed Kuwait City. Kuwait was almost immediately crushed, its leadership fleeing to Saudi Arabia within hours while a puppet government was set up in its place. By August 8th, the so-called Republic of Kuwait announced that it was merging with Iraq under Saddam Hussein’s rule; that same day, the United States launched Operation Desert Shield to protect Saudi Arabia from further attempts by Hussein to expand Iraqi territory.

This initial defensive action soon morphed into a demand that Iraq withdraw from Kuwait, culminating in Security Council Resolution 678, which ordered Iraqi forces to leave Kuwait by January 15th, 1991. If they did not comply, the Resolution authorized all necessary means to force them to do so, including military action. Iraq refused, and Operation Desert Storm commenced on January 16th with 42 days of intense bombing of Iraq, followed by a ground campaign. The Iraqi army was routed by the United States-led coalition forces, Kuwait was quickly liberated, and on February 28th, as Iraq finally announced that it would comply with all UN resolutions, President George H.W. Bush declared that a ceasefire was in effect, Iraq was defeated, and the Gulf War had effectively been won.

The architect of this swift victory was General Norman Schwarzkopf Jr., commander of United States Central Command. His leadership, and the successful strategy he and his team implemented, were absolutely indispensable. It’s blindingly obvious that had the US military invaded Iraq without a plan, the US war effort would have been a disaster. General Schwarzkopf, in other words, had every reason to take credit for the military victory.

He did not do so. In a Frontline documentary produced in 1996 by WGBH, General Schwarzkopf, in response to a question about what he thought of the soldiers who fought under his command, said:

I’ve had a lot of people come up and say “Thank you very much General Schwarzkopf for restoring my faith in my country.” And I always say "You don't want General Schwarzkopf to restore your faith in your country, 541,000 magnificent American men and women who were ripped from the breast of their families on short notice and sent halfway around the world to the most inhospitable environment imagined and ultimately had to face death, that's who restored their faith in their country."

Why did General Schwarzkopf deflect praise away from himself and instead give credit to those who served under him? It’s likely that, apart from simple good manners, he recognized two fundamental truths: that no matter his own contribution, his soldiers were those who literally risked their lives to implement his vision; and that his plan, absent soldiers to implement it, would be utterly worthless.

Which brings me to some unfortunate recent statements by important leaders in the ultra-Orthodox world.

Like the rosh yeshiva who told a religious soldier, “Those who learn Torah are the protectors. You are the protected party, not the protector.”

Or the respected rabbi who, when asked about the proper attitude towards the soldiers currently on the battlefield, answered, “What’s the proper attitude towards those who collect the garbage every morning? It’s the exact same question… Why do [soldiers] go to fight? Answer me - because they chose it?...Or did someone grab them forcibly and take them? Did they do it willingly? If there were no mandatory draft, they wouldn’t even get a minyan - [except] maybe some crazy Mizrachiniks... They go because they forced them to go… Just like a doctor who is forced to heal, you don’t say to him, ‘Thank you very much.’”

Or the famous rosh yeshiva who argued, “We have to sit and learn Torah or say Tehillim… not to glorify soldiers… You can certainly [pray] for soldiers, but I’m afraid if you start [praying] for soldiers, this will glorify the IDF, and will create difficulties later when they start passing laws to draft yeshiva students into the army. I don’t think we should glorify soldiers because of what’s going to happen afterwards. If you glorify them now, they’re heroes now, it’s very hard to demote them from becoming heroes later.”

Or the well-known rabbinic leader who suggested, when asked why yeshiva students don’t need to visit injured soldiers in the hospital, “Those who come and claim, 'Why do you not go to visit the sick and help with the war effort,' can be considered insane, since the yeshiva students and Torah sages cause that there be no need for a spear or a shield, and they cause that we should not need more tanks or fighter jets to protect ourselves, because they themselves are protecting us from the brutal enemies. And essentially, that they sit and invest in their studies, they fulfill the greatest [commandment] to visit the sick that there is, in their own way, since they are adding merits so that there will not be any more ill in the nation of Israel.”

These statements are, thankfully, not representative; there are many Chareidi leaders who decisively declare our collective and individual debt to the soldiers who risk their lives to protect us all. 

But these statements are not completely anomalous, either. They represent a prevalent attitude in large pockets of the ultra-Orthodox population, and - despite the unquestioned scholarship of these leaders - we need to decisively exclaim that these statements are hurtful, arrogant, ungrateful, and wrongheaded.

I believe that the Chareidi claim that yeshiva students should be exempt from military service is problematic on numerous levels (for details, listen to this episode of the Orthodox Conundrum Podcast, and read this article of Orthodox Conundrum Commentary). For the sake of argument, however, let’s work with the assumption that even in our unredeemed world, where the Divine Presence remains in exile and its workings are hidden rather than evident, Torah study has a direct and verifiable impact upon Israeli success or failure in the battlefield. Let’s assume that objectively, in the words of the scholars quoted above, “[soldiers] are the protected party, not the protector,” and that “the yeshiva students and Torah sages cause that there be no need for a spear or a shield, and they cause that we should not need more tanks or fighter jets to protect ourselves, because they themselves are protecting us from the brutal enemies.” Let’s assume that the yeshiva students’ effect upon the war is direct and impactful and verifiable. Let’s assume that this is all true.

Nevertheless, if we insist that yeshiva students literally “cause that we should not need more tanks or fighter jets to protect ourselves,” we make a mockery of the Torah. There are yeshiva students studying, and we clearly still need tanks and fighter jets to protect ourselves; soldiers still die every day, even as thousands of people ostensibly protect them with their Torah study. Any argument to the contrary creates a Torah of falsehood, which is a terrible desecration of God’s name. If we choose to take the Chareidi position seriously, we cannot take it literally; otherwise, we look like fools, or worse. Maximally we may argue that their learning is essential to military success, but we cannot claim that their learning currently replaces military muscle altogether.

In other words, if we take these ultra-Orthodox claims seriously, we need to assume that they think that Torah learning is as essential to the current war effort as General Norman Schwarzkopf was to the success of Desert Storm in 1991.

In which case, all Chareidi leaders need to take a page from his book and recognize and acknowledge publicly that while the Torah study of yeshiva students may be the backbone of the army, the soldiers alone put their lives on the line for the sake of the Jewish people. 

They need to recognize and acknowledge publicly that without the blood and sweat of the soldiers, the yeshivot would be overrun by terrorists killing every student inside.

Thousands of soldiers literally risk their lives every day, yet the response is too often a complete lack of hakarat hatov (gratitude). Even worse: soldiers are effectively told by some in the ultra-Orthodox population, “You risk your lives, and we spend time in yeshiva. You’re welcome.”

A shift in attitude - at the very least, a willingness on the part of every Chareidi leader to openly thank our soldiers and acknowledge their very real contribution - might have a profound effect on Israeli society. 

But statements that degenerate and belittle Israeli soldiers turn our beautiful Torah into something unrecognizable. Regardless of the motivation, goal, and philosophy behind them, these assertions must be condemned.

The glory of Torah and the sanctification of God’s name demand no less.