He just wanted to serve in the IDF, but his Yeshiva kicked him out: The remarkable journey of David Zoldan

David Zoldan, a graduate of the inaugural Nahal Haredi cohort and a co-founder of the Netzah Yehuda Battalion, spoke with Eli Dan as part of the documentary series "Faith and Security" about his transformation from a yeshiva student to a combat soldier. Amid renewed debates over Haredi enlistment, Zoldan opened up about the challenges he faced from the Haredi community, his experiences as a Haredi soldier in the IDF, and how his perspective shifted after the Simchat Torah War (October 7, 2023).

Zoldan recounted the difficulties he encountered within the Haredi community, his time serving as a Haredi soldier in the IDF, and the change in his outlook following the war. "October 7 caused an earthquake in the Haredi public," he said. "There’s a suppressed desire among Haredi youth today to contribute, to enlist, to take up arms and fight." The full interview delves into his personal journey and reflections.

Greetings to David Zoldan. First, tell us a bit about your background. Who are you, and where are you from?

"My name is David Zoldan, a graduate of the first Nahal Haredi cohort, one of the founders of the Netzah Yehuda Battalion, and a member of the Committee for Equality in Burden-Sharing."

When did you enlist in Nahal Haredi?

"I enlisted on January 25, 1999. Right now, we’re marking 25 years, half a jubilee, of this incredible national project."

What led you, as a Haredi young man from a Haredi background, to enlist? Tell me about your family background.

"Whenever there are wars, the outcry arises: ‘Why us and not them? Why are we spilling our blood on the battlefield, fathers and sons defending the homeland?’ That excuse never convinced me. Someone risking a bullet or shrapnel is different from someone dedicating himself to Torah study. Back when I enlisted, the IDF was shedding blood in Lebanon. It was almost routine to see headlines about soldiers killed in overnight ambushes."

So you come from a Haredi family, a yeshiva graduate?"Y

es, I come from a Haredi background and studied in yeshiva. My blood boiled when I woke up and heard the cries from Lebanon, the screams of the dying, the families’ anguish. I asked myself: Why am I not there? Why can’t I shoulder the burden with my brothers fighting bravely for us?"

Tell me about your family and yeshiva background. Were you among the few Haredim who sought to enlist in those years?"I secretly read books about IDF history, events from 40 years back, unrelated to the news we heard superficially. I was drawn to the paratroopers’ pursuits in the Jordan Valley and stories of Hannah Senesh and Eli Cohen."

So you were reading secretly in yeshiva?"

Yes, I hid books inside my mattress. I’d torn a small section, stuffed them in, and read. Over time, I shared bits with friends. When it spread and the yeshiva caught on, they punished me. It was only a matter of time before they expelled me."

How old were you when you enlisted?

"I was 18 and a half."

Let’s talk about your service experiences as a Haredi in the IDF, in a framework that, for the first time in decades, decided to create a space for Haredim.

"My first memory from basic training is realizing the IDF is the greatest teshuva (repentance) organization out there. Day one, I expected Nahal Haredi to have a minyan and the right atmosphere. I was disappointed. I went up as chazan, and no one answered ‘Baruch Hu u’Baruch Shemo’—everyone’s heads were down, dozing off. Then the door opened, and Amit Tobi, a declared atheist kibbutznik from Kibbutz Maabarot and our tough sergeant, woke everyone up and drilled them properly for two hours. The next day, they all came to synagogue, answered ‘Baruch Hu,’ and meant it."

So you’re saying the IDF is the greatest teshuva organization for this youth?

"Practically speaking, what yeshiva heads couldn’t do, the atheist sergeant did."

Tell me more about your service experiences. Beyond that initial encounter, how did a Haredi yeshiva graduate experience the IDF?

"First, we were an experimental project. The IDF didn’t know how to handle us, and we didn’t know how to handle the IDF. We shaved and figured it out as we went. It demanded a lot of patience from the IDF and from us. The IDF went above and beyond what we expected—strict separation from women, no female soldiers entering the base. Once, a female soldier came to measure our effort bars, and the guard missed the order to keep her out. She entered, and alarms blared across the base. We thought it was a border breach: being near the border, we assumed terrorists had infiltrated. As recruits, we figured the commanders would fight while we weren’t yet trained. They locked us in a room, and we waited tensely. Later, we learned it was just her - they feared we’d see her, so they confined us. That’s what all the commotion was about."

Where did you serve?

"We got a quiet sector while the IDF was in Lebanon. We were fighters eager to prove ourselves, doubly so, to ourselves and to a Haredi society that, to put it mildly, didn’t like our enlistment. Our guys faced nasty harassment. We arrived at the front line with top motivation, jeeps ready, combat vests on, feeling like real fighters after training. The brigade commander looked at us with a puzzled, almost astonished gaze. He didn’t know if he could trust us. On one hand, he was part of this experiment, Haredim in the IDF, a first. On the other, could he rely on us to guard border gaps? We were offended by the army’s attitude. Here we were, Haredim enlisting, not for rabbinical roles but to take up arms and fight on the front lines. Later, we proved ourselves, advanced to the mountain ridge, and took part in Operation Defensive Shield."

How many guys were in that first cohort?

"We’d meet in Bnei Brak at a fire station, in a guarded room. If a suspicious figure approached, someone who might harass us, the guard would report it to keep our secret safe. Every time Defense Minister Yitzhak Mordechai wanted to check the project’s progress, we’d count: ten, nine, twelve, thirteen. He’d say, ‘Not enough, I want sixty.’ When we hit twenty-nine, Duvdevani called the minister and said, ‘We’ve got it.’ We heard Mordechai say, ‘Approved, go ahead.’ So, twenty-nine of us formed the first platoon, the initial Nahal Haredi cohort, and the rest is history."

What was the human makeup of that platoon? Were they like you, or different?"

Great question. In yeshivas, everyone came from different backgrounds—Sephardi, Ashkenazi, various styles. I’d split them into two groups: one stayed fully Haredi in lifestyle, unwilling to compromise an iota, just choosing to defend Israel differently. The other came for promises—studies, jobs, material perks. That speaks to their caliber; even if they weren’t top learners, you could lure them with education or livelihood, which is harder today."

So, one group stayed Haredi, while the other used the army to exit Haredi life?"

There were two groups: one strict on every detail, and another breaking down, seeing the army as a convenient base for that, with strong peer support. There were clashes between them, some ethnic tensions too, familiar from their yeshiva days. Ultimately, the army forces you together; both groups had to unite."

You said the IDF is Israel’s biggest teshuva organization. How many in your platoon did it bring back?

"Our platoon isn’t a great example. A decent chunk went off the derech (left religious observance). They weren’t the generation’s righteous to begin with, but that it happened in the army raises questions."

Did the IDF contribute to their spiritual shift, or just enable what was inevitable?

"The IDF did everything to make this project work—more than we or the rabbis expected. It couldn’t afford failure; it was a national mission that had to succeed. But yes, there were clashes between the groups. In the end, you’re in ambushes together, risking your life, and even if you joined for studies or a better future, a ticket to equal citizenship, you realize it’s not just about a degree or survival. It’s bigger, and that self-interested view turns Zionist and value-driven. You see it at ceremonies: Haredi families in suits and black kippot singing Hatikvah, saluting the flag. Where else do you see that? It trickles to the parents too."

How did the community receive you as a group?

"The yeshiva didn’t accept me. After returning, I faced unpleasant incidents. Just recently, I closed the circle with my yeshiva head after years, reconciling and putting it behind us. But reactions weren’t kind. After Operation Defensive Shield, we were shamed out of the streets. We were a negative example, precisely because we showed up in uniform, with tzitzit, kippot, and beards, proving it’s possible. Had we fallen religiously, it’d confirm their ‘they’re breaking down’ claim. Instead, we showed a successful blend, and that scared them."

Any positive reactions, or just negative?

"Interestingly, secular media embraced us, but Haredi media didn’t. If Nahal Haredi thwarted an attack, Israeli press highlighted ‘Nahal Haredi soldiers stopped a Jenin attack,’ while Haredi outlets just said ‘IDF soldiers,’ giving no credit."

Within the Haredi community, no positive voices or supportive rabbis?

"Those who supported us had weak, barely audible voices. I don’t recall politicians visiting except Eli Yishai. We were outcasts across the Haredi establishment. We even had to find a matchmaker for our guys—they were off the yeshiva lists."

How did your immediate family react?

"They preferred I stay in yeshiva, but once I was resolute, they backed me all the way. There are more examples like that. We focus on the ostracism and smears of those early cohorts, but there’s more legitimacy now, every home has its ‘black sheep,’ part of the average Haredi family’s reality."

Before we leave the army for civilian life, what was your biggest challenge in service—something that nearly broke you, if there was one?

"The toughest was a grueling march in the Jordan Valley’s rocky hills. I expected the camaraderie from books, but instead, we had two groups fighting each other, not supporting. What Nahal Haredi? Some smoked, acted secular under the ‘Haredi’ label, disrupting those who wanted to stay observant. It was an impossible clash. Physically and mentally, there was no brotherhood. On that ridge, I thought, ‘If I break now, what shame! How can I face myself? They’ll say I failed yeshiva and the army: what’s left?’ My yeshiva head’s harsh words, ‘I don’t believe in you, you won’t succeed’, drove me to prove him wrong."

You finished full service?

"I completed regular service, then signed on for permanent duty. No Haredi reserve unit existed yet, and I didn’t think we should be separate—we didn’t enlist to form a Haredi faction. I took some good guys and joined an elite reserve unit. Over years, we did in reserves what we couldn’t in regular service. Two years in permanent duty taught us to take responsibility for our lives. Most of us, 25 years later, have families and take charge of our fates."

Post-Release Civic Activity

After leaving the army and entering civilian life, you worked on Haredi enlistment. What were your key actions and goals?

"In civilian life, I wanted to keep pushing this cause. The biggest struggle for a soldier is ‘the war after the war.’ Surviving Jenin or Palestinian clashes is doable, but the battle within his community—if there’s no support or change—won’t last. Morale breaks, people fear, their status suffers, and it’s not worth it. So, the army must first provide a warm home for those stuck without a place to return. Second, on the Committee for Equality in Burden-Sharing with Ayelet Shaked, I argued that incentives—studies, scholarships, laws—are tools. We ‘bribe’ with physical benefits, but it’s mutual interest. We want Haredim in the IDF—not just for an extra battalion, but for a battle over consciousness."

What have you achieved in these years?

"They drilled into us: ‘You’re pioneers, torches before the camp, building a bridge of hope and unity.’ It was overdone, but it sank in. Seeing my neighbor, who wouldn’t speak to me, smile when he saw me in uniform broke the ice. We built a real bridge of unity, not a cliché. Haredim in uniform reduce tension and hatred: I’ve seen it."

How did enlisting change you as a Haredi and as a person?

"Anyone joining Nahal Haredi for perks, studies, jobs, a ticket to equal citizenship, realizes in combat, risking your life in a dangerous ambush, it’s for a higher cause. Your view slowly turns Zionist, connected to the nation, beyond sectoral life. It’s a lifelong shift—you’re active in your community, not isolated. Our graduates are more involved and ahead of the political curve, which isn’t ripe yet. When secular society wants dialogue with Haredim, it’ll be easier with us than with Gafni or Eichler."

What about your Haredi identity and values—obedience to rabbinic authority, mitzvot, Torah study? And can the IDF take Haredi youth today without harming their identity?

"Service gave me a bird’s-eye view: we’re part of a collective, responsible for family, community, and nation, not just a narrow group. It affects every issue, politics, lifestyle, how you approach religion and state with sensitivity and duty, without dropping your values. I wanted to be part of Am Yisrael, not a separate faction. That’s why I served reserves with non-Haredim, guarding with all types, now my Facebook friends."

What’s the ideal vision for IDF-Haredi relations, pre- and post-war?

"The IDF and Haredim share interests. The IDF draws strength as a people’s army, which needs Haredim. It must meet their demands, which it does, but also ensure scholarships and security post-service, preparing fertile ground for growth. Those three years are a security mission and economic contribution. Solving this means preserving the Torah-learning society with funding and oversight, while incentivizing enlistment. Every Haredi choosing to defend Israel should have his choice respected, not to abandon faith, but as a legitimate path alongside Torah."

One word on October 7 as a Haredi soldier, including your recent reserve experience?

"October 7 shook not just the Israeli left, but the Haredi world too. There’s a pent-up desire among Haredi youth to fight, to be at the front where Israel needs them. Barriers like yeshiva prestige and matchmaking make it unappealing, but the raw desire could fill two battalions. In Swords of Iron, my engineering unit, 749, led bombings into Gaza. Signing ‘change’ for Shabbat blasts, per Rabbi Yoel Schwartz’s guidance, I handled explosives at the forefront. Amid adrenaline, with black kippot in Khan Younis and a Torah scroll in the field, I felt a divine mission—unity over division, a winning model we proved works."