Though opinion polls vary in assessing the fortunes of the political parties in the Israeli election next March, the pundits have hitherto found it easy to predict haredi representation, because ultra-Orthodox Jews consistently vote for their own. 

But things may be changing. An open letter by some 3,000 women has it that they won’t vote again for haredi parties unless and until women are among the candidates. So far, only their men have been Knesset members. If one of their women sought political office, she had to join another party, as did Tzvia Greenfeld who for a time represented the left-wing Meretz party.

The haredi establishment vehemently opposes the women’s initiative, using the traditional argument that everything that’s new is forbidden by the Torah. As long as the rabbis who hold the reins of power don’t allow the inclusion of women, most haredim are reluctant to openly dissent. 

To include women candidates would also be a tacit admission that secular and non-Orthodox Jews have a case when they champion gender equality, and that’s anathema to those who regard themselves as the only authentic custodians of God’s will for the Jewish People.

An article published earlier this month in the Times of Israel by Chevy Weiss, who describes herself as a haredi activist working behind the scenes, deserves close attention. She’s opposed to the new initiative because she regards the political arena as “a spiritually dangerous place for haredi women.” At the same time, however, she offers compelling reasons in favour of women’s political involvement.

First, haredi women, she writes, have always been supporting men to enable them to study Torah. As a result, women are much more familiar with practical problems in life and, thus better suited to serve the public. And men who represent haredim in politics are deprived of studying Torah, which is their real and perhaps only vocation. 

I can think of a no more damming indictment of haredi male politicians: they aren’t familiar with the issues they’re called upon to decide, and being in politics forces them to neglect their primary responsibility to God. 

Second, women are usually the breadwinners in the haredi family and thus better acquainted than their fathers, husbands and sons with economic realities. Women, writes Weiss, “have ideas for solutions and want to implement them now.” With few exceptions, she adds, the men neither listen nor respond to views put forward by women. Here then is another case for women politicians and another put down of men.

Third, Weiss writes: “Haredi women are suffering. They are overworked, being the breadwinners and raising children while the husbands increasingly fail to take responsibility.” Referring to the growing divorce rate among haredim, she reports that “the community organizations and batei din favour the husbands more often than not.” 

Hence this startling conclusion: “Haredi women with political power would be a huge help to all females.” So why is she against the initiative of the 3,000 women? In addition to pointing to the spiritual perils of politics, she’s too loyal a member of the haredi world to dare to openly challenge its “sages” and appear to give in to modern trends. Though she acknowledges the need for women’s voices to be heard, she seems to resign herself to the fact that in her world such voices must remain muted and only manifest themselves “behind the scenes.” 

Having been raised in the United States, as she tells readers, she’s sufficiently American to champion the cause of women to whom men, according to her, don’t pay sufficient attention. But as a haredi loyalist she nevertheless toes the line. 

The glaring inconsistency and uneasy compromise deserve our sympathy, as the effort of the dissenting women has earned the wholehearted support of the enlightened Jewish world across denominational boundaries. 

The achievements pioneered by Reform Judaism and followed up by other non-Orthodox movements seem to be touching the haredi world.