In a candid podcast interview with attorney Nathan Rosenblatt, senior attorney Roni Paluch argued that Israeli society does not genuinely seek to integrate the Chareidi community but instead expects Chareidim to abandon their identity in order to be accepted.

“I was part of the first class at the Chareidi campus of Ono Academic College, established in 2001—about 25 years ago,” Paluch recalled. “We didn’t have matriculation certificates or anything else.

He explained that the college created what has since become a widely accepted model: separate study days for men and women, preparatory programs, and an educational framework adapted to the Chareidi community.

After completing his studies, Paluch sought a legal internship. “I applied to one of the most prestigious law firms in Tel Aviv, Raavad, Benkel & Magrizo, which specialized in high-tech and commercial law. The firm’s head, attorney Yoram Raavad, was very close to Ariel Sharon at the time.

“Four or five of the country’s leading business figures personally recommended me, including the late Eitan Wertheimer, the late Moti Zisser, Shmuel Dankner, and Avi Drexler, the former head of the Israel Land Administration.

“I arrived at the firm’s offices in Tel Aviv’s business district, near the courthouse, and everyone looked at me in astonishment. On the phone, ‘Roni’ had sounded different.”

“The interviewer immediately asked, ‘You’re Roni?’

“I said, ‘Yes—the one they told you about.’ He said, ‘I see you studied law.’ I replied, ‘Yes—that’s why I’m here.’”

The interview then veered from Paluch’s professional qualifications.

“He said, ‘You saw the office. You understand there’s no kosher food here?’

“I answered, ‘I’m not coming here to eat. I understand people need to eat.’

“Then he said, ‘You noticed there are no mezuzos on the office doors?’

“I replied, ‘If you want, I’ll buy them for you. If you don’t, I won’t.’

“Then he said, ‘You know women work here.’

“I answered, ‘Yes. I’m married, I have daughters, I have sisters and parents, I live in a building with women, and I walk down Rabbi Akiva Street where there are women.’

“Then he said, ‘We’re a high-tech-oriented firm. We work all week, sometimes weekends too.’

“I replied, ‘I’ll work every hour you need during the week. If by weekends you mean Shabbos, then no—I don’t work on Shabbos. You probably already knew that.’”

Paluch said that when he asked whether there were any questions about his professional abilities or career goals, the interviewer responded, “I have the full picture.”

“A week later I received a rejection email. They didn’t hire me. Why? Because I’m Chareidi.”

Paluch said he recounts the story not out of personal resentment but to illustrate what he sees as a broader attitude within Israeli society.

“I want people to see where Israeli society really is. The same ‘enlightened’ and ‘liberal’ people who fight against gender separation in the Chareidi community or against adapted academic programs claim they want to accept anyone who’s different—whether Arab, Hispanic, or from any other sector.

“But if you’re Chareidi? No.”

Quoting the English expression “NIMBY” (“Not In My Back Yard”), Paluch said: “They want us to become like them—but not among them. I’ll say it openly – because we are proud Chareidim – they want us only if we become exactly like them.”

Turning to the issue of military service, Paluch concluded: “I don’t know how to say something that isn’t true. The system—whether it’s the army or any other state institution—doesn’t really want Chareidim to serve. When they truly want it to happen, it will happen much faster than people think.

“I believe it will happen only if Chareidim can enter and leave military service with their religious, Chareidi, and communal identity completely intact, without the slightest compromise.”

(YWN Israel Desk—Jerusalem)