A sharply worded post published by Tuvia Smotrich, brother of Israeli Finance Minister Bezalel Smotrich, succeeded in putting into words a fear that has been quietly circulating within Israel’s right-wing camp for quite some time: the possibility that the chareidi parties, after the current crisis surrounding the draft law, may seriously begin considering cooperation with the left.

Smotrich warned of a scenario in which the chareidim would receive exemptions from military service, financial benefits, and continued autonomy regarding core curriculum studies, while in exchange allowing the left to advance diplomatic, judicial, and cultural policies far removed from traditional right-wing positions.

That concern deserves serious attention. But precisely for that reason, the full truth also needs to be acknowledged: the chareidim would not align with the left because of ideological affection for the left. They have not suddenly adopted left-wing values, joined the leftist camp, or forgotten the long political and cultural battles they fought against it for decades. If such a shift ever occurs, it would emerge not from ideological enthusiasm but from political frustration — after years in which the right grew accustomed to receiving chareidi support while repeatedly struggling to deliver on promises when it mattered most.

For years, leaders in Bibi Netanyahu’s Likud party, the Religious Zionist camp, and much of the broader right viewed the chareidi public as an automatic political partner. The chareidim would vote. The chareidim would help secure a governing majority. The chareidim would absorb public backlash. But when decisive moments arrived regarding the issues most important to them, they were often told to wait patiently, to show restraint, to understand the pressures of the courts, the military establishment, the media, and public opinion polls. Political loyalty, however, cannot remain one-sided forever.

The draft issue is not merely another coalition dispute or budgetary disagreement. For the chareidi public, the status of yeshiva students is a foundational question tied directly to the identity and survival of the Torah world. One may disagree with the chareidi position or criticize it, but it is unrealistic to expect chareidim to continue guaranteeing right-wing governments while parts of that same right increasingly speak about them as though they are a political burden to be embarrassed by.

That is precisely where the right’s greatest weakness lies. On one hand, the right demands unwavering loyalty from the chareidim and constantly reminds them that no right-wing government can survive without them. On the other hand, when the political cost arrives, many on the right recoil from media criticism, legal pressure, polling concerns, and opposition within parts of the Religious Zionist and Likud camps. The result is an impossible situation: the chareidim are expected to put the right in power, but they are not always given the feeling that the right is prepared to fight for them when necessary.

For that reason, Tuvia Smotrich’s warning should not be viewed solely as a threat about possible “betrayal” by the chareidim. It should also be understood as an internal indictment of a right-wing camp that does not always understand its own partners. If the chareidim eventually conclude that the left can provide clearer results on the draft issue while the right continues offering slogans without solutions, responsibility for that shift would not rest only with the chareidim. It would also fall on those who demanded their loyalty for years without always returning that loyalty with meaningful commitment.

The chareidi public is not searching for a home on the left. It does not naturally belong there, does not feel culturally comfortable there, and does not share many of the values promoted by that camp. But politics is not built solely on ideological identity; it is also built on practical results. If the right wants to preserve its alliance with the chareidim, it must stop treating them as guaranteed votes and begin treating them as partners whose concerns deserve respect, understanding, and protection.

The chareidim are not permanently owned by the right. They remained loyal for many years because the alliance was rooted in shared traditional, political, and cultural interests. But even natural alliances can weaken when one side feels it provides the majority, absorbs the criticism, and ultimately finds itself standing alone against the system. Political camps that fail to defend their partners should not be surprised when those partners begin searching for another address.

{Matzav.com}