After experiencing their first air raid sirens on Shemini Atzeret, many American students left their shana ba’aretz yeshivot and midrashot and returned to the U.S. Some schools only lost a few of their students, though others saw over 50% of their students fly back. In evaluating this decision, one group of leaders advocated for students to remain as the proper course of action, while another argued that leaving Israel should be viewed as an acceptable choice as well (The Jewish Link, “To Leave or to Stay” by Shoshana Poupko, October 19, 2023)
Navigating this disagreement depends on two factors:
1) What is the threat to students in yeshivot and midrashot?
2) How does one grow religiously when life is uncertain and filled with anxiety?
Here is the reality that we in Israel are currently experiencing. Israel is at war. It began with Hamas’ savage massacre of the towns near the Gaza Strip and its shooting thousands of rockets into all parts of Israel. Israel will invade Gaza to defeat Hamas.
At the same time, the Israeli government has not asked foreigners to leave for their safety. A handful of yeshivot and midrashot have relocated due to specific security concerns, and Israel has evacuated areas near Gaza and Lebanon. The vast majority of the shana ba’aretz programs, however, are located in Yerushalayim and Beit Shemesh. They are not active war zones. Rather, air raid sirens, the uncertainty of war, and other security precautions have created a tense and anxious environment for everyone.
The ability to grow religiously during these anxious times requires us to understand the role that meaning plays in our lives. Psychologists Abraham Maslow and Viktor Frankl disagreed fundamentally about the relationship between safety and meaning. Frankl’s approach better reflects the Torah’s outlook.
Abraham Maslow’s famous hierarchy of human needs begins with physiological needs and safety, followed by psychological needs of love/belonging and esteem, after which comes self-actualization. Importantly, Maslow posits that an individual has little ability to work on a higher-level need if a more necessary lower-level need is not satisfied first. He believed that people cannot develop loving relationships, inner strength or self-esteem until they have food to eat and feel safe.
In contrast, Viktor Frankl asserts that the meaning we draw from our close relationships and a vision of our future self provides the requisite inner strength to persevere through extreme hardship and physical threats to our existence. Frankl postulated his theory after surviving Hitler’s concentration camps and marveled at the ability of some Jews to will their own survival under unspeakably gruesome conditions.
According to Frankl’s grandson, Alexander Vesely, Frankl told Maslow that he disagreed with his psychological construct, since in life “it’s not about ‘having what you need to live’ but asking yourself, ‘What am I living for?’”
By rejecting Maslow and following Frankl, it becomes clear that courage is a choice. Many of us are not born with it, but we can cultivate it. The fear and anxiety that students and parents currently feel is real, but courage helps us overcome and persist. We shouldn’t minimize our emotions, but we can succeed despite them.
The Torah supports Frankl’s approach. At the very beginning of our history, God led Israel into a barren desert, tested them, and expected the newly freed slaves to accept the Torah and conquer the Land of Israel. Unfortunately, the spies appealed to Israel’s fears that the Canaanites were too strong and that Israel would be defeated. Calev reminded Am Yisrael that they “are capable” (Numbers 13:30), that they possessed the strength and inner resolve to defeat the inhabitants of the Land. Tragically, the people chose safety over their covenantal mission and were punished. Later, when Yehoshua was appointed as Moshe’s successor to lead the people into the Land of Israel, he was continually told chazak v’ematz, to be strong and courageous. He was told to choose courage.
The modern State of Israel was also founded upon Frankl’s insight. Its pioneers bravely settled the Land at great personal risk. Draining swamps came with malaria. Arabs continuously threatened and sometimes attacked. Until today, Israel’s army has a mandatory draft that obligates young men to put aside personal concerns and protect their nation.
In the recent Hamas attack, many Israeli reservists grabbed their guns, jumped in a car and drove to the south to defend Israeli lives. Retired generals acted like regular infantry men. In the process, many lost their lives, but it was their bravery that saved the lives of thousands of vulnerable families.
This courage and heroism did not magically appear. Instead, it is built upon the sense of history and destiny that Israelis share. It has been cultivated by army service and reinforced with stories of heroic sacrifice that are told and retold on Israel’s national holidays. This courage is the result of each person committing to something beyond themselves: their people and their country.
The gap year in Israel provides students with a deeper appreciation for the three critical features of Jewish identity: the people of Israel, the Torah of Israel, and the Land and State of Israel. By engaging their students in full-time Torah study, yeshivot and midrashot hope to provide students with the vital material needed to lead lives proudly dedicated to their covenantal mission.
In the current reality, Maslow would posit that post-high school students can’t succeed in their Torah studies until they feel safe and secure. On the other hand, Frankl would stress the importance of Torah study and the close friendships that one cultivates in their yeshiva and midrasha as sources of strength to persevere. Difficult times are ideal moments for inculcating values. One builds his Jewish identity by standing together with our people at a time of suffering. Channeling Frankl by remaining in Israel and devoting oneself to Torat Yisrael, Am Yisrael, and Eretz Yisrael should be the proper course of action.
The above is not to stand in judgment of any specific student who returned to America. To declare guilt or to condemn, one must have authority, like an appointed judge. There are also certain nonlegal arenas where humans are disqualified from declaring a verdict, as Avot states, “Do not judge your fellow human being until you have been in his place” (2:4). In these areas, only God is allowed to make that determination.
Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks, zt”l, emphasizes, however, that judgment has two meanings. The first is to pass a verdict, the second is to advise. Even when it is inappropriate to condemn another’s actions, humans are nonetheless called upon to guide and defend moral principles. This will “set out the map of human relationships and point out the places of danger, the glaciers and quicksands and marshes, as well as the points where the view is worth the climb.” This essay, “In Defense of Judgment” from his book “Faith in the Future,” attempts to articulate public expectations and to persuade and guide.
The students who stayed, and the parents who supported them, have displayed impressive courage. Communal leaders should state this clearly and proudly. Expected standards of behavior continuously need to be reinforced, and nervous families of students in Israel require encouragement. Those who left due to significant health conditions should continue to monitor the situation in consultation with their healthcare professionals. However, those students who left in a moment of panic should consider returning to Israel to experience a year of Torat Yisrael, Am Yisrael and Eretz Yisrael, albeit in a way none of us imagined.
May Hashem grant Am Yisrael a speedy and decisive victory over our evil enemies.
Rabbi Rafi Eis is the executive director of the Herzl Institute and a resident of Efrat, Israel.
