In Sanhedria cemetery in north Jerusalem, ultra-orthodox voters came to the tombs of revered rabbis before they cast their ballots. There was no question of which way they were going to vote: for the parties representing Ashkenazi and Sephardic ultra-orthodox. But some at the Sanhedria cemetery, the young especially, made clear they only would do so reluctantly.
Yair Shuker, aged 19, said only one issue was important to him. “The election is about whether we will live by the Torah, or there will be no Torah. There will be a Jewish state or there will be no Jewish state,” he said.
And for him – as with almost all Israel’s ultra-orthodox (the Haredim) – the critical measure of the state’s level of observance is whether the Haredim would continue have exemption from military service.
“There are some who study the Torah, and some who stand and defend the land,” Shuker said.
The exemption for ultra-orthodox religious students dates back to the founding the state, but has long been a sort of tension among Israeli Jews, all the more so since the 7 October attack in 2023 and the start of the Gaza war. Israel’s supreme court ruled in 2024 that the blanket exemption for haredi men had no basis in law.
In return for their support in keeping him in power, Benjamin Netanyahu promised the ultra-orthodox parties (the Sephardic party Shas and the Ashkenazi United Torah Judaism) new legislation that would perpetuate the exemption, but has failed to deliver on that promise due to splits in his coalition. As a result both parties left the government, though Shas remained part of the coalition.
Whatever their feelings about Netanyahu, both would vote against a secular-led government led by the current opposition parties, which have pledged to end the exemption once and for all, and enforce military service if necessary.
Shuker said he did not trust either coalition, but would vote because he had been told to. “The rabbi has asked us to vote for Shas, so I will vote,” he said. A 23-year-old Ashkenazi ultra-orthodox, who identified himself as Yaacov K, expressed the same sense of disillusion mixed with duty. He said:
I’ll tell you the truth. To me and most of the people around me, we don’t believe in anyone.
If you’re asking me, I’ll never go and vote. But I have a rabbi and the rabbi told me listen, you have to go and vote. And if he says you have to go and vote, then that’s what I do. I don’t even start thinking if it’s worth it for me or not worth it for me.
The open distrust and contempt for Netanyahu, coupled with obedience and party discipline, could be one reason that the prime minister’s bloc has over-performed by a seat or two in past elections, compared to his poll numbers. That could be crucial if the pattern is repeated.
Azriel Zadok, a rabbi who had come for morning prayers at the Sanhedria cemetery, argued that the mass ultra-orthodox vote was essential to preserve Israel’s Jewish identity from “the left”.
“We have no problem with the secular. We pray for them, and we pray for the soldiers,” Zadok said. “Our problem is with the leftists we are trying to decide for us how we should live.” “They want us to go to the beach on Saturday and they want us to marry outside our faith. We want to remain Jews,” the rabbi added.
The centre left is only a small part of the opposition bloc, and it does not propose to change the ultra-orthodox lifestyle. But the bloc is united on the insistence that the Haredim should do their part in the defence of the nation. It is the most divisive issue among Israeli Jews voting today.