In the Haredi world I come from, true power seldom makes a scene. It rarely marches in protests or roars through headlines. It moves quietly, like a steady heartbeat, carried by the women who hold up the very foundations of our community.
However, history shows us something undeniable: when women rise, everything shifts. More than a century ago, on New York's Lower East Side, Jewish mothers – devout and modest – took to the streets to protest the soaring price of kosher meat. They didn't wait for permission or blessing. They knew that when faced with the inability to nourish their children, silence is no longer holy; it is dangerous. Their courage reshaped the rules of the game.
It proved that even those considered weak or invisible can, in a moment of truth, become a historic force. Their story reminds us that every major grassroots movement began with the small, determined steps of mothers and sisters who refused to remain silent in the face of injustice.
That truth hasn't changed. Haredi women today bear much of the community's weight, economically, educationally, and spiritually. They are also its gatekeepers, and only they have the legitimacy to spark a transformation from within.
And yet, as Israel faces existential threats – relentless attacks from without and deep fractures within – I find myself asking: Why do we hear the anguished public cries of our national-religious and secular mothers, whose sons are serving on the front lines, while so many Haredi mothers, though they pray with broken hearts, remain absent from this national conversation? This is not a criticism. It is a plea.
The unity Israel needs – shared service, mutual responsibility – cannot be forced from outside. It will NOT come from the Knesset or the Supreme Court. It must be born from within the Haredi world, and it can be led by the women who know its soul better than anyone. Women who can plant in their husbands, brothers, and sons a sense of national duty that strengthens – not threatens – their faith.
I am not calling for rebellion. I am begging for a partnership. For courage. For action.
I write this not in my professional capacity, but from my heart, as a woman who grew up inside the Haredi world and who chose, out of love, to become a bridge. Between communities. Between beliefs. Between worlds.
This is not merely a theoretical vision but an urgent need of the moment: to turn hope into action, and faith into a unifying force. If Haredi women are given the stage, we may discover that they not only hold the key, but also know how to open the door.
