My last post ended with a stinging barb involving a stinging barb.
After seeing my first live bullet ant on Sunday at an insect show in England, I had described the painful sting that it can inflict. (For those who asked, this is not from fangs, but rather from venom emitted by a barb-like projection sticking out of the end of their abdomen.)
I then segued to discussing how I (and many others) have cried a lot over the past two years, due to the various horrors that Israel has experienced, along with the fears of those whose children serve in the IDF. And I then discussed how one of the Gedolim who was simultaneously visiting England was also publicized as crying - not for any of the aforementioned reasons, but rather because charedim are “threatened” with having to fulfill the same privileges and responsibilities as everyone else. I noted how Chazal state that Hashem punishes those who cry for invalid reasons by giving them reason to cry. And I concluded by suggesting that maybe Hashem will send the Gedolim some bullet ants.
Several people considered this to be highly offensive. Some accused me of saying that I was wishing suffering upon the Gedolim. Another warned that in light of the Charlie Kirk murder, it could incite violence. One of my opponents, a charedi apologist who justifies charedi evasion of army duty on the grounds that the creation of Israel was a terrible crime that charedim didn’t support, even proudly presented my statement as evidence of my moral corruption.
In fact it was meant as a quip, a humorous way to tie the end of the post back to the topic discussed at the beginning. My sense of humor may have missed the mark with some people, but nobody who knows me thinks that I want anyone to suffer the sting of a bullet ant. And I don’t think that it was inciting anything - you can’t even get bullet ants in Israel. (In fact, the only violence between non-charedim and charedim has been in the reverse direction, of which there have been numerous examples.) And I was not wishing anything, but instead describing what could be analogous to Chazal’s description of what Hashem does.
Still, I make mistakes, and maybe I misjudged. And in light of the criticism, I deleted that line. But I later restored it. And since I’m unable to leave my office and go home, as rioting charedim have blocked the junction into Beit Shemesh, I’m taking the time to explain why.
It was because of a comment that someone called Doron Chitiz posted:
Your last line is one of the funniest things I've ever read. It made me laugh so hard.
Thanks.
Just returned from an event in memory of my brother who was killed in action 20 months ago.
Went to the kever with my mother yesterday.
Really needed this 🙏
It’s worth receiving criticism if I can temporarily cheer up those who have suffered. But while that alone would provide justification, it wasn’t just that. Doron’s comment also made me realize and appreciate that it’s okay for those of us living through a war to be really, really upset at those who refuse to assist with it and who callously don’t even care, and to need to vent our frustration.
When I was in London, I had a private get-together with about 15 readers of Rationalist Judaism. One of them asked me if I ever feel uneasy about my sharp criticisms of the charedi leadership and community. Several years ago, I would have answered yes. But now? Not in the slightest.
It seemed that the questioner was slightly taken aback at my response. So I explained more, and I’d like to explain even further here.
Recently I received a criticism on a different post, and I replied to the person, “Can I hazard a guess that you do not have children in uniform? That you are not part of the community in Israel that experiences suffering on an ongoing basis?” He answered that he indeed is a recent immigrant to a retiree community, but he did not see how it was relevant. I explained that my point was: How did I know? I knew nothing about him beyond his name, which I did not recognize. How did I know that he was not part of the IDF-serving community?
And the answer is that after living in such a community for two years of war, it’s abundantly clear to me that the emotions and sentiments and sensitivities of people inside that community are very different from the emotions and sentiments and sensitivities of people outside that community.
One of the many wise sayings of Chazal was “Do not judge a person until you are in their place.” 99% of the time that I receive criticism on things that I have written, it’s from people who either do not live in Israel or who are not part of the IDF-serving community. And they just don’t get it.
As I demonstrated with a collection of comments in my post “The Dati Community Is Furious,” people in the IDF-serving community are really, really, upset. Speaking for myself, I’m very proud that my son is training as a combat soldier, but I’m also beside myself with anxiety - a feeling that is not shared by my charedi neighbors whose sons enjoy an easy lifestyle and vacations abroad without a care in the world. I can’t even post a photo of my son’s face, in case it gets him arrested in a foreign country! And I’m absolutely furious that he is due to perform several months of reserve duty every year until he’s fifty due to charedim refusing to share the responsibility of national defense.
So yes, if this anxiety and frustration and resentment sometimes comes out as stinging barbs, even if they sometimes cross the line (though I think that this one was misunderstood by those who objected), I’m going to own that. And as for my opponents who claim that this demonstrates my moral corruption, what a joke that is! They do not care about how their lifestyle causes endless thousands of reservists and their families to suffer unbearably, with people losing their jobs and their mental health and their family lives and their marriages and thousands grappling with suicide, and they are accusing me of being morally corrupt?!
Rant over. I’d like to take this opportunity, as the year draws to a close, to say that one of my most moving experiences this year was the subsidized “Fun and Activity Day” (actually two days) that we hosted at the Biblical Museum of Natural History for the families of reservists - some still without their husbands/fathers. It was simultaneously heartbreaking and heartwarming. It was heartbreaking to see and hear about the hardships of so many people, and heartwarming to see how appreciative they were of the program that we designed and had subsidized for them and presented with love. One person wrote:
“It strengthened me, as a soldier, and my wife—who has kept the family going while I’ve been serving—to be here and enjoy such an educational, fun experience with the kids. Knowing that you are there to help, that you support us, gives us the strength to continue serving the country. Thank you!”
These past two years have brought extraordinary challenges. I created the Biblical Museum of Natural History as a place of inspiration and education, but it has become something even more — a place of healing and hope. If you’d like to provide educational, healing experiences to more families, along with making the relationship between Torah and nature come alive for people across the full spectrum of society, you can donate at this link.
Thank you for being a part of this!
I was also disturbed by your comment. I chose not to respond at the time, as others already had, and I didn’t feel it necessary to add to the criticism.
Before you assume otherwise—yes, I live in the UK, and therefore I do not have children in uniform. I don’t judge you or your community for the feelings you’ve expressed toward those who don’t serve. You’ve spoken eloquently about your experiences and pain.
However, sometimes it takes someone from the outside to notice when a line has been crossed. That’s not to say, “we don’t get it”—it’s precisely because we don’t fully share your perspective that we can more objectively see when criticism tips over into hate speech. Getting laughs at the expense of those who have suffered is not justification.
I am not angry or judgmental. I recognize that I cannot fully understand your community. But I do respectfully feel that, in this instance, you crossed a line.
Ifully sympathize with your feelings. I have a grandson close to being inducted into Tzahal. Nevertheless I would not say or especially publish your jarring comment against this Rov. At the same time I was outraged at the use of the word "shmad" to describe those who serve in Tzahal.