Response to Rabbi Pini Dunner to his response: The 4 Levels of the Land

(For those just joining please first read Rabbi Dunners initial post and then our first response and then Rabbi Dunner's response to us before reading below)

Thank you, Rabbi Dunner, for your thoughtful response. I truly appreciate the conversation — it’s rare to have such an open dialogue between our communities, and I value the opportunity to clarify where we stand.

Before responding to specific points, it’s important to first lay down some foundations — principles that define our worldview and the lens through which we approach all of this. Without understanding these fundamentals, it’s easy to misinterpret our actions, our convictions, and even our silence.

Once these foundations are clear, many of your arguments will make more sense — and, respectfully, it will become evident why trying to use Torah sources to justify or support a State that does not operate according to Torah authority is deeply problematic. A system that openly rejects the yoke of Torah cannot then selectively invoke its verses, its values, or its laws to demand compliance from those who live entirely under its guidance.

Let’s dig in. First we need to recognize the 4 layers of the land of Eretz Yisrael:

We can picture Eretz Yisrael as a kind of three-dimensional map, built in layers — each one revealing something deeper about who we are and what Hashem wants from us.

The first and deepest layer is the land itself — Eretz HaKodesh, the holy soil promised by Hashem to Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov for all eternity. This covenant cannot be canceled, rewritten, or replaced. The land is inherently holy — its holiness exists whether or not anyone recognizes it, whether or not it has a government, borders, or flags.

The second layer is the Torah-true Jews — the Bnei Torah who have lived here for centuries. They are the spiritual backbone of the land, sustaining its holiness through learning, tefillah, and mitzvos. They are the living continuation of the same Am Yisrael that stood at Har Sinai — loyal to the Torah and to the mesorah that defines our nation.

The third layer appeared much later — the modern State of Israel, built on top of those Torah foundations but not guided by them. Its founders sought to replace the “old Jew” — the humble, faith-driven Torah Jew — with what they proudly called the “New Jew”. They dreamed of a nation rooted in nationalism, democracy, and modern ideology rather than Torah.

And the fourth layer is the Zionist identity that rests on top of it all — the worldview, both secular and religious, that identifies with this new creation and sees holiness in political institutions rather than just the Torah itself.

When we look at the land today, we must learn to see all four layers:

• The eternal holy land beneath everything.
• The Torah Jews who have sustained it for generations.
• The modern state built upon them.
• And the Zionist ideology that still hovers above — often obscuring the holiness beneath, yet unable to erase it.

The Charedi world did not arrive in the Land of Israel because of the State. We were here long before it, and, with Hashem’s help, we will be here long after it — when Moshiach comes and all forms of democracy, nationalism, and other “isms” fade into the dust of history.

We do not see the modern State as something holy. We see it as something that was placed on top of us, a new structure built upon a foundation it did not lay — the foundation of Torah and mitzvos.

But just as we are bound to follow every law of the Torah, so too are the Zionist Jews. And when they create their own man-made laws that contradict Torah, those laws hold no true authority, for only Hashem’s Torah defines right and wrong.

As Chazal teach,

“אין אנו רשאין להוסיף או לגרוע” — We are not permitted to add or subtract (Devarim 13:1).

At the same time, we recognize reality. Hashem — in His infinite wisdom — has allowed the State to exist. Therefore, our task is to respond to this nisayon with emunah and with peace, following the laws of the land only when they do not contradict Torah, and striving to live with dignity and integrity amid this complex situation.

We may not yet understand why Hashem chose to bring His people back to the land through a secular government. But we do see His constant mercy, His daily chassadim, and the open miracles that sustain us. The question is not whether Hashem is with us — He always is. The question is: Do we remain with Him?

When our enemies rise up against us, when danger surrounds us, we must ask ourselves:

• Where do we place our trust — in secular leaders, or in our Gedolim who carry the voice of the Torah?
• Do we battle anti-Semitism with politics and public relations, or do we search for the spiritual message that Hashem is sending to His people?
• Do we shape ourselves into the “New Jew” imagined by modern ideology, or do we cling to our eternal mesorah, unchanged and unshakable?

For the Charedi Jew, the answer is clear. Our roots go deeper than politics, deeper than nationalism, deeper than any man-made system.

Before the State — and after it — there is only Torah, mitzvos, and faith in Hashem. That is what has kept Am Yisrael alive through every exile and every empire. And that is what will keep us alive until the final redemption, when the outer layers fall away, and the true essence of Eretz Yisrael — the land, the Torah, and the people of Hashem — will once again shine as one.

Now let’s take a closer look at the holiday of Chanukah, next on our calendar, to help strengthen and clarify our position.

Chanukkah is not just a story of ancient heroism — it is a mirror of our time.

The same spiritual struggle that defined the days of the Maccabees is alive and burning within the Jewish people today. Only the names have changed.

Then, it was Hellenism versus Torah. Today, it is Zionism versus Torah.

In the days of the Yevanim, there were two kinds of Jews:

1. The Torah-faithful — the Chassidim and Perushim, who clung to Hashem’s Torah and refused to bow to the cultural pressure of Greece.
2. The Misyavnim (Hellenized Jews) — those who adopted Greek values, languages, and ideals, while still claiming to represent Judaism. They said, “We are still Jews — just modern Jews.”

They believed you could “update” Judaism, modernize it, make it more “universal” — just as today’s Zionists believe they can redefine Jewish destiny, independence, and holiness without full submission to Torah.

The Greeks spoke of enlightenment, reason, and human beauty. The Zionists speak of democracy, nationalism, and progress.

But both share the same root: the worship of man instead of Hashem.

The Greeks said: “We are wise, we are strong, we are cultured — we don’t need Divine authority.” The Zionists say: “We will build the new Jew, strong and proud, not dependent on rabbis or miracles.”

Both claim to be “redeeming” the Jewish people — but in truth, both try to replace the Torah Jew with a man-made ideal.

The Misyavnim of old built gymnasiums beside the Beis HaMikdash and called it progress. The Zionists built a secular state on the holy soil of Eretz Yisrael and called it redemption.

Then as now, the faithful Jews — the Bnei Torah — were told they were “backward,” “ungrateful,” or “parasites.”But just as the Maccabees stood tall against the wave of assimilation and cultural conformity, the Charedi world today stands as their spiritual heirs, holding the same torch of Torah against the same darkness of man-made ideology.

The war of Chanukkah wasn’t a clash between two nations; it was a civil war within Am Yisrael. The same is true today.

The war was — and still is — about who leads the Jewish people: Is it Hashem and His Torah, or human leaders and their politics?

Antiochus outlawed Shabbos, Rosh Chodesh, bris milah, and Torah study — open decrees of persecution. Today’s Zionists use similar tactics: They demand army service instead of yeshiva learning, state loyalty instead of Torah loyalty, “shared burden” instead of shared faith. The majority openly is chillul Shabbos and calls for state enabled Shabbos desecration.

It is the same spirit — to make Torah secondary, to redefine Judaism as culture, peoplehood, or nationalism.

Just as in the days of Matityahu and his sons, we are few in number but powerful in spirit. The Maccabees didn’t win through strategy or numbers — they won because Hashem fought for them. Their cry was not “For the homeland!” or “We have the power!” (יש כוח בידי), but rather the eternal call of faith:
“מִי כָמוֹךָ בָּאֵלִם ה׳ — Who is like You among the mighty, Hashem!”

How tragic that today, so many in the government and army proclaim “יש כוח בידי” — “the strength is in our hands” — as if victory depends on human power alone. That mindset is the very opposite of what the Maccabees lived and died for. They fought not to glorify human might, but to restore the glory of Heaven.

The true strength of Am Yisrael has never come from tanks or tactics, but from emunah, Torah, and mesirus nefesh. When we forget that, we lose the very spirit that made us undefeatable in the first place.

Today, that same battle cry echoes in every Beis Midrash, every Yeshiva, every Jewish home that remains loyal to Torah despite pressure from the outside world.

We do not seek war or rebellion; we seek truth and faith. But when Torah is attacked — whether by ancient Greeks or modern Zionists — we must stand firm. Together.

Hashem, in His infinite wisdom, allowed the modern State of Israel to arise — just as He allowed the Greek decrees to occur — as a nisayon, a test of loyalty and clarity.

The question He asks each generation is the same: Whose side are you on?

Do we place our faith in secular leaders and modern “isms,” or do we stand with the eternal Torah and those who live by it? Do we define our Jewishness by the flag and the army, or by Torah, mitzvos, and the Shechinah that dwells among lomdei Torah?

History has already shown where the light comes from — not from political power or armies, but from the few who kindle the flame of Torah when others surrender to darkness.

The Greeks darkened our eyes with their philosophy, but the light of Torah pierced through. The Zionists darken our generation with nationalism and secularism, but the same Torah light continues to shine.

Chanukkah teaches that a small light of truth can defeat great darkness. The menorah’s flame is the fire of the Maccabees — and today, it burns in every Yeshiva, every Beis Midrash, every Jewish home where the Torah reigns supreme.

Let us remember: The Charedim were here before the State, and we will be here after the State — when Moshiach comes, when all “isms” and man-made ideologies will vanish, and only the light of Torah will remain.

Rabbi Dunner, we do, in fact, share a core belief: Torah is our life, and we both want a future of safety and kedushah. Where we differ is not on love of Torah, but on who decides how Torah is applied to the modern State — and what “hishtadlus” actually looks like when there is no Sanhedrin, no Melech, and no Torah-run army.

Below is a clear, point-by-point response that builds upon the foundations I’ve already presented. I’m not certain it addresses every detail of your remarks, but it should cover the main points you raised.

1) “Coercion” vs. Conviction

You paint Israeli Charedi life as “pressured conformity.” That caricature ignores two facts:

• Every society has social norms — army service, university, career tracks — and people who deviate often pay a price. Singling out the Charedi world for having norms is not serious analysis. You do say that it is not the norm and I believe you when you say you know of first hand accounts.
• The dominant coercion right now isn’t communal; it’s state coercion: night arrests, travel bans, jailing lomdei Torah, conditioning basic entitlements on enlistment. If we’re decrying coercion, let’s start with the handcuffs.

We have also consistently supported non-draft pathways for those not learning — e.g., the Belz model — provided they remain fully under Torah authority, not the army’s culture or command. And we’ve long argued to lift the work-ban on ages 18–26 so non-learners can earn with dignity instead of being forced into frameworks that compromise Torah life as well as volunteering to any of the 2000+ Charedi run non-profit organizations. That’s not “pressured conformity”; that’s offering kosher options.

2) “It wasn’t an atzeres tefillah; it was a political rally”

The Gedolim declared a yom tefillah with five formal resolutions. Were there a few provocative placards among the hundreds of thousands gathered? Yes — as happens at any massive public event. But to define the entire day by a handful of signs while ignoring the hours of heartfelt Tehillim, Selichos, and kabbalos is deeply unfair. The essence of the gathering was exactly what it was called — a day of tefillah, not politics. Moreover, many of those controversial signs were not official; genuine materials of the atzeres were required to display the official emblem of the event.

3) “The Torah says: When you go out to war”

Correct. But halachah is not a bumper sticker. Milchemes mitzvah/milchemes reshus have halachic conditions: a Melech, a Sanhedrin, and Torah governance (see Rambam, Hil. Melachim). In a polity that does not submit to Torah authority, the poskim of the generation determine our hishtadlus. And they have ruled repeatedly that drafting bnei yeshivah is prohibited — not only because Torah learning is the nation’s shield, but because the army’s environment (hashkafah, tznius, chilul Shabbos in systems) is spiritually dangerous. In addition they put all our holy soldiers in situations of Pikuach Nefesh that are not warranted due to political pressures and global angst. 

This is not a Charedi invention, nor a modern slogan. It is the unanimous testimony of Torah across all generations:

• “The entire existence of the world depends on Torah study.” (Vilna Gaon, Even Shleimah 1:2)
• “If Torah learning ceased for a moment, the universe would collapse.” (Rav Chaim Volozhiner, Nefesh HaChaim IV:11)
• “Torah scholars protect the generation like a military guard standing on the city walls.” (Chofetz Chaim, Shem Olam ch.17)

Dovid HaMelech fought as a melech under Sanhedrin, not as a conscript in a secular command. The Chashmonaim fought b’shaas shmad to restore Torah authority, not to ratify a system that sidelines it. Invoking them to justify drafting lomdei Torah into a non-Torah army inverts the precedent.

4) The Straw Men: “If Torah Alone Protects, Close the IDF — or Move Yeshivos to the Border”

No one serious has ever claimed that Torah protection means we do nothing in the realm of hishtadlus. What we say is simple — Torah is the primary defense, and any form of hishtadlus must be fully subservient to Torah, not the other way around.

The issue is not whether soldiers exist — it is who leads them, by what authority, and according to which law. The Torah forbids a Jew from being meshubad (subjugated) under leadership or authority that does not follow halacha in its entirety, especially in matters of pikuach nefesh, life and death.

The IDF and its leadership do not operate according to Torah. They make strategic, moral, and ethical decisions without daas Torah, and often against daas Torah. That alone makes it halachically impossible for a Torah Jew to place himself under their control, no matter how they label the program — “Charedi track,” “Nachal Charedi,” “special units,” etc. We have heard all these promises before, and they have been broken time and again.

If the IDF truly wants to discuss Torah integration, let it first rebuild itself under Torah leadership, conforming 100% to Torah law for all Jews — from the Chief of Staff down to the newest recruit. Let it become an army guided by Gedolei Yisrael, with Torah values at its core, where every action, from combat to conduct, is judged by halacha.

Then, and only then, would there be a discussion to have. Until that happens, forcing yeshiva bochurim to enter such a system is not “sharing the burden” — it is abandoning Torah sovereignty.

The claim is not to abolish the IDF. The claim is this:

Do not conscript the nation’s spiritual guardians into a system that rejects the very Torah that grants Israel its protection.

Build frameworks that are truly kosher, voluntary, and supervised entirely by Torah authorities, not by generals or bureaucrats. Until then, coercion under a secular system remains a spiritual danger — not a solution.

Chazal and the Gedolei HaDor have been absolutely clear: joining a system of leadership or warfare not guided by Torah is not merely a poor choice — in certain contexts, it is an issur chamur, a grave transgression of yehareg v’al yaavor proportions.

The Chasam Sofer writes explicitly:

“מִלְחָמָה שֶׁאֵינָהּ עַל פִּי הַתּוֹרָה — נִקְרֵאת מִלְחֶמֶת רְשׁוּת שֶׁאָסוּר לְהִשְׁתַּתֵּף בָּהּ.” “A war not conducted according to Torah is considered a reshus (optional) war, and it is forbidden to participate in it.” (Chasam Sofer, Responsa, Yoreh De’ah 19)

Rav Elchonon Wasserman zt”l, the great talmid of the Chofetz Chaim, warned before the Holocaust that those who seek to build a Jewish nation or army without Torah foundations are committing spiritual suicide:

“מַדְרִיכֵי הַדּוֹר הַחֲדָשִׁים הֵם הַמַּרְדִּים בַּמֶּלֶךְ מַלְכֵי הַמְּלָכִים... הֵם רוֹצִים לִבְנוֹת מַלְכוּת יִשְׂרָאֵל בְּלִי תּוֹרָה — וְזֶהוּ שֶׁקָרָא הַנָּבִיא אֶתְחַלְתָּא דְּשִׁמְדָא.” “These new leaders rebel against the King of Kings... They wish to build a Jewish kingdom without Torah — this is what the prophet called ‘the beginning of destruction.’” (Rav Elchonon Wasserman, Ikvisa d’Meshicha, p. 6)

The Torah forbids mesirah — handing over control of Jewish life, especially in matters of pikuach nefesh, to non-Torah authority. Submitting to military command that does not follow halacha in combat ethics, tznius, kashrus, and kedushas machaneh is, by every halachic standard, a violation of “ולא תתורו אחרי לבבכם ואחרי עיניכם.”

Rav Elchonon concludes powerfully that even if the secular army fights “for Jewish survival,” its war cannot succeed if it is not led by Torah. For Torah is not a blessing upon our weapons — it is the only weapon that truly protects us.

So when you are upset about a banner that says “a boy who enlists in the [Israeli] army is evading service in God’s army and betraying the God of Israel,” adding that “his punishment will be great.”, there is good reason to say this.

5) The Gulf War and “partnership”

Yes, people used gas masks and sealed rooms. And yes, thousands of open miracles occurred — far beyond statistical expectation. That is precisely the point: hishtadlus is necessary, but safety comes from Above. Our argument is not against masks or soldiers; it’s against breaking the beis midrash to fill quotas, as if Torah is optional air freshener while “real” work happens elsewhere. That’s not emunah — that’s forgetting Who runs the world. Oh, and by the way, we didn’t need the gas masks :) 

6) “Why should one group be exempt?”

Two answers:

• Principle: You don’t draft the spiritual ambulance corps in a crisis; you expand it. The Torah learning that upholds the nation is not a lifestyle exemption — it is the core national defense in Torah terms.
• Practical justice: Israel already tolerates vast non-Charedi male non-enlistment via medical/psych routes, living abroad, and for those that can afford good lawyers to the tune of tens of thousand. If this were solely about “manpower,” the dragnet would center there first. Instead, we see night arrests of bnei Torah and performative pressure aimed at the community identified with Torah sovereignty. That’s not “equal burden”; that’s politics.

7) “What About Those Not Learning Full-Time?”

This question is often raised as a supposed “middle ground”: “Fine,” they say, “let the top learners stay in yeshiva — but what about the rest? The ones who aren’t learning full-time? Shouldn’t they at least serve in a Charedi framework, with kosher food and a daily minyan?”

But the Gedolei Yisrael have already answered this — clearly and consistently. Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl shlit”a, Rav of the Old City of Yerushalayim and one of the foremost Torah authorities of our time, stated unequivocally that even Charedi bochurim who are not learning full-time must not enlist, not even in so-called “Charedi units.”

Why? Because this is not simply about how many hours one learns — it’s about what kind of environment one lives in.

The issue is not personal discipline, but spiritual atmosphere. The IDF, as it exists today, is not a neutral space. It is built upon a secular foundation, governed by secular leadership, and infused with values, culture, and norms that stand in open contradiction to Torah life.

Yes, there may be kosher food. Yes, there may be a minyan. But these token accommodations do not transform a fundamentally non-Torah system into a Torah one. You cannot “kasher” a gezeiras shmad by adding a mechitzah and a sefer Tehillim.

The danger is not theoretical — it is spiritual, emotional, and cultural. Young men are placed in environments where tzniyus is compromised, kodesh and chol are blurred, and the reverence for Torah and Gedolim that defines our lives is often met with mockery or dismissal.

To send a bochur — any bochur — into such an environment is to risk his neshama for the sake of political slogans about “shared burden” or “integration.” We are not permitted to endanger even one Jewish soul for such an experiment.

“וְנִשְׁמַרְתֶּם מְאֹד לְנַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶם” “Take utmost care for your souls.” (Devarim 4:15)

This mitzvah is not optional. Protecting spiritual life is as binding as protecting physical life.

The argument “they’re not learning anyway” completely misunderstands what being a ben Torah means. Every Jewish man — even one not currently learning full-time — belongs to the camp of Torah. His connection to yeshiva life, his reverence for the Gedolim, his commitment to Shabbos and tefillah, his daily halachic guidance — all of that keeps him anchored in the spiritual fabric of Am Yisrael.

To uproot him from that environment and place him under secular authority is not “discipline.” It’s assimilation under a different name.

This is why the Gedolim have drawn a clear line: we cannot send our sons into an institution whose core values are foreign to Torah, even if it wears a “Charedi” label. We do not compromise the kedushah of our children’s neshamos for the sake of national slogans.

If the State truly wished to accommodate Torah life, it would create frameworks under full rabbinic control, where Torah defines every aspect of life — from leadership to scheduling to chinuch. Anything less is merely assimilation with a kashrus certificate.

As Rav Nebenzahl and countless Gedolim have warned: This is not a question of “who’s learning” — it’s a question of who defines the terms of holiness in Eretz Yisrael. And that authority rests only with the Torah, not with the State.

8) “You Benefit from the State — You Must Serve the State”

You claim: “If you live in Israel and enjoy its hospitals, roads, and security, then you owe the State something in return. No one forces you to live here — but if you choose to, you must share the civic burden.”

That statement is not only mistaken — it turns reality on its head.

No one forces us to live here? This is our land — promised by Hashem to the children of Avraham, Yitzchak, and Yaakov for all eternity. We are not guests here. We are the rightful heirs. It is those who separate the land from Torah who have redefined what it means to live in Eretz Yisrael.

Long before there was a Knesset, an army, or a modern government, there were Torah Jews living and learning here, keeping the flame of holiness alive through centuries of exile and hardship. From Tzfat to Chevron to Yerushalayim, Torah families built the communities that became the foundation of Jewish life in the Land.

To imply that those who uphold Torah — the very reason this land was given to us — are somehow “tolerated” beneficiaries is not only historically false but spiritually backwards.

The Torah itself says:

“וְנָתַתִּי לָכֶם אֶת הָאָרֶץ לָרֶשֶׁת אֹתָהּ” “I have given you the land to inherit it.” (Bamidbar 33:53)

And Chazal explain that our right to the land is conditional upon Torah observance:

“אין ישראל נגאלין אלא בזכות התורה” “Israel will be redeemed only in the merit of the Torah.” (Midrash Rabbah, Vayikra 7:3)

So who has the greater claim to live here — those who keep the Torah that gives the land its holiness, or those who attempt to separate the land from its Source?

Yes, we benefit from the physical infrastructure of the State — but the physical exists only because the spiritual sustains it. Every hospital, road, and field stands by virtue of Hashem’s blessing, and that blessing flows through the Torah learning, mitzvos, and tefillos of Klal Yisrael.

The Charedi world does not “take.” We give — continuously, selflessly, and in ways that no government department could ever replace: the chessed networks, the bikur cholim volunteers, Hatzalah, ZAKA, the massive tzedakah organizations, and above all, the constant stream of Torah and tefillah that keeps Am Yisrael spiritually alive.

To measure contribution only in tanks and taxes is to misunderstand what this nation is. The Jewish people’s strength has never been military or political — it has always been Torah.

Unity does not mean uniformity. Each shevet has its role: some protect physically, others spiritually. But let no one suggest that Torah Jews are “lucky guests” in their own eternal homeland. Eretz Yisrael was given for Torah, and it is Torah that gives Eretz Yisrael its meaning.

We live here not because a government permits us to — we live here because Hashem commanded us to. And every word of Torah learned in this land strengthens its walls more than any weapon ever could.

9) “Fix the IDF from Within”

Some argue, “If you Charedim would just join the army, you could fix it from within — bring in your values, elevate its morality, and make it more Jewish.” It sounds idealistic, but it’s built on a fundamental misunderstanding of both Torah and reality.

You don’t “fix” a secular military culture by forcibly absorbing lomdei Torah into it. You build separate, Torah-supervised frameworks from the outside, led and guided by Gedolei Yisrael — exactly like the Belzer Rebbe shlita proposed, with rabbinic oversight, clear halachic boundaries, and spiritual protection. That is called productive engagement — when Torah leads the way and defines the terms.

Arresting bochurim at 2 a.m. for learning Torah is not “fixing.” It is coercion. It is an attempt to break the very heart of what sustains Am Yisrael — our connection to Torah and to Hashem.

And even if someone claims, “But we just want one percent, just a few yeshiva boys,” the Torah’s response is clear: We are not allowed to sacrifice even one Jew — not physically, not spiritually — to a place that endangers his neshama.

Just as we would never say, “Let one Jew eat treif to fix the kashrus industry from within,” so too, we cannot send bochurim into a spiritually destructive environment to “influence it.” The Gemara teaches us that “אין חוטא נשכר” — one cannot commit an aveirah to achieve a mitzvah (Berachos 63a).

Even more so when that “mitzvah” is imagined — not real.

The IDF, as it stands, operates according to secular law, not Torah law. Its command structure, education, and moral compass are not built on halacha or yiras Shamayim. The idea that a few young bochurim will “change it from the inside” is not only naïve — it’s a direct violation of the Torah’s call to guard one’s soul:

“וְנִשְׁמַרְתֶּם מְאֹד לְנַפְשֹׁתֵיכֶם” “Take great care for your souls.” (Devarim 4:15)

Every Jew’s spiritual safety is sacred. We cannot risk the purity of even one bochur’s heart and mind by placing him in an environment that militates against Torah life.

If there is to be any bridge between Torah and national defense, it must be built with daas Torah, under full rabbinic supervision, not through forced integration. The Belzer Rebbe’s model — voluntary, guided, and protected — is an example of responsible engagement. But the coercive draft, with its midnight arrests and public humiliation of bnei Torah, is the opposite of repair. It is destruction masquerading as “unity.”

True repair comes only when Torah is at the center — not when it is dragged into someone else’s framework.

Bottom line:
Torah is the nation’s first line of defense. That is not a slogan — it is the mesorah of our greatest poskim.

Hishtadlus matters — but who defines it, and how, is a halachic question answered by Gedolei Yisrael, not by public sentiment or Supreme Court rulings.

A workable path exists:

• Blanket deferment for bona fide lomdei Torah.
• Belz-style, Torah-run service or work tracks for non–full-time learners.
• End arrests and coercion; lift the work ban on ages 18–26.
• Restore respect to the discourse: stop criminalizing Torah, and stop using benefits as weapons.

We thank the soldiers, medics, and rescuers for their hishtadlus, and we pray sincerely for their safety and success. But we will never confuse hishtadlus with emunah, nor allow the yoke of Torah to be traded for the yoke of politics.

As Rav Moshe zt"l taught:

“תּוֹרָה הִיא הַמָּגֵן הָאֲמִתִּי לְיִשְׂרָאֵל.”
“כָּל שֶׁנִּתְמַעֵט הַלִּמּוּד, כֵּן נִתְרַבּוּ הַסַּכָּנוֹת.”
— without the merit of Torah, no battle, physical or spiritual, can stand.

That is our foundation. That is our contribution.
And that — with great respect, Rabbi Dunner — is why we will not yield.

We love our Dati Leumi brothers as we love all Jews — for we are one nation, bound by one Torah. But now is the time for all Bnei Torah who love and fear Hashem to stand together and rise above politics and nationalism. The State is not our destiny — Moshiach is.

Our mission is not to glorify the State, but to bring the Shechinah back into our midst. The path to true redemption is not through armies or governments, but through achdus, through teshuvah, and through reaching out with love to bring our secular brothers and sisters back to Yiddishkeit.

We must separate ourselves from the illusion that our strength lies in the State, and instead place our faith only in Hashem, Who alone is our protector, our guide, and our redeemer.

But let us end on what unites us: our shared love of Am Yisrael and our yearning for Geulah.
We may see the path differently, but we all long for the same light — for Hashem’s Name to be sanctified, for peace, and for the day when “ומלאה הארץ דעה את ה׳.”

May that day come soon, with achdus, with understanding, and with hearts joined in the service of Hashem.

Thank you again, Rabbi Dunner, for opening the conversation with sincerity and care.