On November 29, 1947, the United Nations voted on the partition plan. Soon after, Chaim Weitzman, who would become the first President of Israel, stated: “The state will not be given to the Jewish people on a silver platter.”
A few days later, the Israeli poet Natan Alterman published his famous poem in response, Magash HaKesef — “The Silver Platter.”
The earth grows still.
The lurid sky slowly pales over smoking borders.
Heartsick but still living,
A people stand by
To greet the uniqueness
Of the miracle.
Readied, they wait beneath the moon,
Wrapped in awesome joy before the light.
Then soon,
A girl and boy step forward,
And slowly walk before the waiting nation;
In work clothes and heavy-shod
They climb In stillness
Wearing still the dress of battle, the grime
Of aching day and fired night
Unwashed, weary until death, not knowing rest,
But wearing youth like dewdrops in their hair.
— Silently the two approach
And stand.
Are they of the quick or of the dead?
Through wondering tears, the people stare.
“Who are you, the silent two?”
And they reply:
“We are the silver platter
Upon which the Jewish State was served to you.”
And speaking, fall in shadow at the nation’s feet.
Let the rest in Israel’s chronicles be told.
Magash HaKesef appeared on December 19, 1947 in the newspaper Davar. This was before the War of Independence broke out. Alterman, in the midst of the joy and excitement engendered by the UN vote, anticipated the heavy price that would have to be paid.
This poem continues to be read each year as part of observances for Yom Hazikaron and Yom Ha’atzmaut, Israel’s Memorial Day and Independence Day.
This poem tragically captures the contract that is made by Israelis. Parents send their children to serve in the IDF, knowing that the existence of the state itself depends on it, knowing as well that for some of them, the ultimate price will be paid.
The official Yizkor, memorial prayer of the IDF does not begin with the traditional opening. A traditional Yizkor begins Yizkor Elohim – “May God remember.” But the prayer invoking the memory of those who fell defending the State of Israel begins Yizkor am Yisrael – “May the nation of Israel remember.” God’s name does not appear once.
It is ironic that of all the issues roiling Israeli politics right now, with so many different groups calling for the government to resign – for different reasons – one of the leading issues that could bring down the government has to do with service in the IDF. The Haredim, the most fervently observant Jews in Israel, have by and large avoided serving in the Israel Defense Forces.
When I observe the debate over the question of the Hardei draft, I do so as an outsider, as someone who does not have to face these existential questions. America does not demand a lot from us.
This Haredi draft exemption goes back to the founding of the state in 1948. David Ben Gurion, seeking a compromise to ensure stability in the new government, made a bargain with the small Haredi community at the time to exempt the 400 brightest Torah scholars from military service, as long as they remained studying in yeshiva full time as their full-time activity.
This was after Haredi communities in Europe had been decimated in the Holocaust. The goal was to try to build something back out of the ashes. The program was called Torah Umanuto – “Torah is his profession,” an expression taken from the Talmud.
For the first several decades, the numbers remained fairly steady. But over the last forty years, as the Haredi communities have grown exponentially and become involved politically, the numbers of exemptions have ballooned.
In 1974, 2.4% of eligible people were receiving Torah Umanuto deferalls. By 2012, it was 15%. Today, there are 63,000 draft eligible students receiving exemptions.
Governments have been trying to deal with the issue for the past twenty five years, and it now appears to have reached a breaking point.
Most non-Haredim oppose the Haredi draft exemptions, claiming that they should share the burden of protecting the state. There have been many commissions and proposals over recent decades, none of which have produced results.
Should funds for community institutions be tied to military service. Should citizenship and the right to vote itself be connected to entering the draft? Should military service be required for government employees, including those serving under the auspices of the Chief Rabbinate? These questions or part of wider issues having to do with pluralism in Israeli society and the integration of Haredim into the nation.
Why are they so adamant about not serving? First is the claim that their Torah study guarantees God’s protection of the state. Learning in yeshivah is itself a form of national service. Another fear is that sending their young people to serve in the army will expose them to all sorts of secular, ‘non-kosher’ influences. It will take them away from the influence of their Rabbis. Apparently, on the shidduch market, (matchmaking), the rare bachelor who does choose to serve has a more difficult time finding a good match.
After October 7, with war in Gaza and in the North, the military says that it needs more soldiers. Such heavy reliance on reservists for six months and counting means pulling older citizens away from their families and their jobs. It is no longer tenable, many argue, to allow tens of thousands of young Haredim to continue to sit out from national service.
This past week, a court appointed deadline passed that legally ended the exemptions. The only legal way to extend the exemptions would be for the Knesset to pass a law, which is not politically feasible. The government must immediately stop funding as many as 1,500 yeshivot with students who are refusing to serve.
At the moment, the Haredi politial parties who are part of the government are indicating that they are not going to leave the coalition. In their calculations, new elections would not improve their situation.
Haredi communities have been staging protests against the draft, with counter-protests by Israelis who are tired of bearing the cost, in both blood and money, of their refusal. They are demanding that Haredim share the burden of protecting the state.
I am thinking of the poem, “The Silver Platter.” There is a cost to having a nation. For the Haredim who refuse to serve, the cost they are afraid to pay is not their lives. It is their way of life, which they fear would be lost if they were forced to participate in what they view as the secular project of the state.
I am also thinking of this week’s Torah portion, Shemini, which includes the tragic story of the deaths of the High Priest Aaron’s two eldest sons, Nadav and Avihu. At the moment of glory, when the Tabernacle has just been inaugurated and Aaron and his sons anointed as priests, something awful transpires.
Nadav and Avihu offer up incense before the Lord using a strange fire. Flame erupts from out of the Holy of Holies and consumes them in an instant. We are not going to talk about what it was that they did or did not do. Aaron’s response is what concerns us. Vayidom Aharon – “And Aaron was silent.” (Num. 10:4)
Moses begins ordering Aaron, his remaining sons, and cousins around, making sure that they attend to Nadav and Avihu’s corpses properly, as well as complete the dedication of the Tabernacle. The mission must go on.
Thinking that they have made a mistake, Moses becomes angry and accosts Eleazar and Itamar, which pushes Aaron to his breaking point. He intervenes on their behalf. “See, this day they brought their sin offering and their burnt offering before the Lord, and such things have befallen me!” (10:19)
Aaron has paid the ultimate price – the deaths of his children. Why does he bear his grief with such stoicism? Perhaps he knows that he is part of something greater – a national project from which he cannot turn away – even in this moment when he should be mourning. His loss is part of the unspoken agreement.
600 soldiers, officers, and reservists, and 61 police officers have been killed since October 7. 256 of them have died in the course of the ground invasion into Gaza, sent to eliminate Hamas.
Most recently was Staff Sergeant Nadav Cohen, 20 years old, from Haifa, who was killed fighting in southern Gaza as part of the 7th Armored Brigade’s 77th Battalion.
Their lives are added to the silver platter. Yehi Zikhram Barukh. May their memories be a blessing.
Rebyehoshua 