Coronavirus and the haredim

Almost six months into the coronavirus restrictions, many in the haredi sector feel anger, frustration and resentment.

ON THE streets of Mea She’arim, July 5 (photo credit: YONATAN SINDEL/FLASH90)
ON THE streets of Mea She’arim, July 5
(photo credit: YONATAN SINDEL/FLASH90)
In Jerusalem asked several haredim about the mood among the city’s ultra-Orthodox in this phase of the pandemic. Responses were instructive.
City councilman Rabbi Chaim Epstein expressed concern. “Take one case I am dealing with today, about a young couple with a toddler who tested positive but the parents tested negative. According to the rules, the baby should go to a hotel to avoid infection, but the parents are not allowed to go. So who is going to be with this baby in a hotel? And if the youngster doesn’t go, who will be responsible for the unavoidable contamination of the parents?”
Moshe Lefkovitch, an Alexander Hassid, explained why haredim sometimes feel targeted. “A friend and I were doing our regular jog with masks on. As my friend lowered his mask for a second, an officer practically jumped on him and warned him severely. It evidently didn’t bother that official that many of the people around us, obviously not haredim, were  walking with masks under their noses or simply hanging from an ear. As haredim, we were an obvious target.”
Almost six months into the coronavirus restrictions, many in the haredi sector feel anger, frustration and resentment. As with the Arab sector, the rate of infection, sickness and death is relatively high, resulting in suspicion, avoidance and accusations from the general public.
Some of the zealots of the Edah Haredit in Mea She’arim question some of the claims about the pandemic – or at least believe that under its cover, Zionist secular authorities are carrying out a program to attack the anti-Zionist community.
“We will not let any representative of the municipality or Health Ministry force us to change our habits,” declared Yoelish Krauss, the community’s unofficial spokesman.
“OK, there was a virus, but now it’s nearly over. As requested, we remained at home for three months. We were very careful – but enough is enough. Obviously the authorities are using this to enforce their rules on us. Our synagogues, batei midrash and yeshivot are open again. This is our way of life, nobody can force us to renounce to it.”
Betzalel Stauber, a strategic adviser on haredi issues, says the animus toward haredim was there all the time, “but the pandemic allowed too many to express it shamelessly, turning us into scapegoats. We strive to observe the rules and instructions, but nobody seems to care about our customs and needs – or about the fact that most of the time we face contempt and mistrust. How are we supposed to feel when the Health Ministry deems takeout restaurant service or dog walking as vital for society during the coronavirus period, but locks down our synagogues and yeshivot?
“For the past few months, I have been praying three times a day outside, among the cars in the parking lot, amid the noise and pollution, in the sun and heat, careful to socially distance from other worshipers. Is that contempt of the rules? Of course not. Seculars cannot renounce the convenience of takeout, yet they expect me to renounce prayers?”
Epstein, Lefkovitch and Stauber stress that the majority of the haredim carefully observe the rules, but they also point to significant differences in life conditions in the haredi sector.

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“Large families and small apartments,” says Stauber, are recipes for large infection. “That explains the high rate of infection among us,” adds Lefkovitch.
Some of the publicized recent events that drew public scorn, like the Belz wedding with 5,000 attendees and the funeral of a rabbi a week later that also attracted a large number of hassidim, are criticized by the three interlocutors. However, Stauber adds, “society must understand how crucial these events are in the life of the haredim. They are at least as important as preserving the right to have takeout food available.”
Stauber mentions the strict and prompt organized response of yeshiva students. “In most yeshivot, the students had to commit to being closed up in the yeshiva compound for six weeks, without any possibility of going out and taking risks. It worked well. So why do people accuse us of being negligent?”
Epstein, himself a non-hassidic Lithuanian, says there are differences between his sect and most hassidim. “We are very oriented toward community life, but the hassidim are even more so. Attending the wedding of the grandson of the rabbi is a crucial event; the broader public has to understand that.”
All three, not surprisingly, mentioned the different treatment the media accords the thousands of protesters at the Prime Minister’s Residence on Balfour Street, compared to the media virulence toward haredi events.
“We couldn’t help but notice the strikingly different tone, the empathy toward the protesters, compared to the accusations toward us as carriers of infections and the like. It is poisonous,” concluded Lefkovitch.