There is an old story about a jar filled with red ants and black ants.
For a long time, the ants live together peacefully. They go about their lives, sharing the same space, with little conflict. Then one day, someone picks up the jar and shakes it violently. Suddenly, the ants turn against one another. The red ants blame the black ants. The black ants blame the red ants. They attack each other, many are hurt, and some die. But neither side realizes the truth – the other ants were never the cause of their suffering. The real question they should have asked was “Who shook the jar?” and “Why?”
Israel today often feels like that jar. As elections approach and political tensions rise, we are once again witnessing deepening divisions between left and right, secular and religious, Ashkenazi and Mizrahi, supporters and opponents of the current government and Prime Minister.
Political disagreements that once remained disagreements have increasingly become personal. Too often, fellow Israelis are no longer viewed as people with different perspectives, but as threats. We stop debating ideas and begin questioning the character, intentions, and legitimacy of those on the other side.
This is dangerous. Not because disagreement is harmful. Disagreement has always been part of Jewish history. The Talmud itself is built on debate. Jewish tradition never demanded that everyone think alike. In fact, some of our greatest teachings emerged from disagreement. The question is whether we can disagree while still recognizing the humanity of the person across the table. This is the difference between machloket l’shem shamayim, disagreement for the sake of heaven and truth, and disagreement driven by hatred, ego, and the desire to defeat the other side at all costs.
Unfortunately, today, too many disagreements have moved from the realm of ideas into the realm of identity. We no longer simply say: “I disagree with your position.” We say: “People like you are the problem.” One example of how this dynamic plays out is the ongoing debate over Haredi military service – a legitimate national conversation that has become one of the most emotionally charged issues in Israeli society.
I personally believe that national service is a shared responsibility, and that there is a serious issue with the current draft system. However, the Haredi draft debate is far more complex than it is often presented. It is not simply a question of willingness or unwillingness to serve. It reflects decades of history, competing values, political decisions, and the difficult challenge of balancing Israel’s security needs with religious identity.
Over the years, multiple governments have attempted to create draft laws, frameworks and compromises that would address this challenge. However, these arrangements were repeatedly challenged and ultimately struck down by the Supreme Court, perpetuating the tensions and leaving the country without a sustainable long-term solution. This is despite the recognition across the political spectrum that the answer cannot simply be found in hardline legislation alone. As a result, a problem that required political compromise remained unresolved.
Ironically, one of the realities often overlooked in this heated debate is that, while there are legitimate calls for greater participation in national service, the army itself has acknowledged that it cannot integrate every potential recruit overnight. Building a successful framework requires more than just numbers – it requires preparation, resources, appropriate structures, and a long-term approach.
This does not mean that the current system does not need to change. It does. It does not mean that every citizen should not share responsibility for Israel’s future. They should.
Yet it is important to recognize that Haredi enlistment has reached its highest levels ever recorded, with more Haredim joining the IDF than at any previous point, and that many more are seeking meaningful ways to serve, contribute, and share in the responsibility of protecting our country.
In the aftermath of October 7, many Haredim came forward wanting to enlist and contribute to the war effort. However, many were unable to be integrated due to practical challenges within the existing system, and many were sent home. These stories received little to no attention, leaving many Israelis unaware that there were individuals who wanted to serve but struggled to find a path to do so.
Meaningful change will only happen when we are willing to recognize the humanity and good in the other side. When we try to understand where they are coming from, rather than only seeing our own perspective. When we step back, appreciate the complexity of the challenge, and choose to work toward solutions together instead of turning our frustration against one another.
Social media algorithms, political messaging, and certain media environments have contributed to the deepening the divide within Israeli society. They often reward outrage over understanding and simplicity over nuance. We are constantly exposed to the worst examples of the other side, while positive actions, sacrifices, and contributions are rarely given the same attention.
Over the past two years, large-scale campaigns attacking the Haredi draft legislation have contributed to an increasingly hostile atmosphere, leaving many within the Haredi community feeling under constant attack and seeking a retreat into isolation rather than more integration. Yet there has been little public discussion or scrutiny regarding the funding sources and motivation behind campaigns that have targeted Israel’s religious communities and intensified the divide. Which begs us to ask the question – who is shaking the jar? And why?
Israel does not need less disagreement. Israel needs better disagreement.
We need to challenge ideas without attacking people. We need to criticize without using hateful words and slogans. We need to demand responsibility without losing compassion. Because the person on the other side of the argument is not the enemy.
The greatest danger is not that Israelis disagree. The greatest danger is that we stop seeing each other as part of the same people, sharing the same future.
Before forwarding another angry headline, before assuming the worst about those who think differently, we should stop and ask one question: Who shook the jar?
And perhaps the more important question: Do we remember that, despite all our differences, we are still inside the same jar?
Oshy Ellman has over two decades of experience in international relations, marketing and communications. Born in Israel and raised in the United Kingdom, she now resides in central Israel and is an active participant in the Olim community.