Why Yekum Purkan Doesn’t Include Our Soldiers (And Should It?)

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Recently, much discussion has centered around the role of Charedim in the army, often veering into side debates. These include questions like - is someone who appears Charedi entitled to take a vacation during wartime? or should institutionalized Torah study continue at all when the nation is at war? Such debates reveal the underlying tension between different segments of our society and reflect deeper questions about values, priorities, and responsibilities.

This issue came to my attention more personally last week when an influential rabbi shared a post expressing frustration over Charedim enjoying time in the park during their vacation while his son in the army is rarely given time off. The post was filled with emotion and understandably so, but I felt it was missing a constructive path forward. I feel it is imperative to bridge our differences and focus on that which unites us rather than what divides us, as I wrote about in an earlier post.

I commented on his post, suggesting that his article, while it had a valid point, seemed more likely to sow division than foster understanding. It felt like he was preaching to the choir—speaking to those who already agreed with him rather than engaging those who might be persuaded to think differently. If he truly wanted to bridge the gap, there are more productive approaches. There are countless people who have managed to bridge this gap, each in their own way to clearly demonstrate that both Torah and national service can coexist. It may appear blurry sometimes, but they have found a way to see through the blurriness. However, launching public attacks on the internet, targeting a specific community, only serves to build an ivory tower around oneself and alienates those one might hope to influence. We went back and forth and eventually agreed to disagree, as all good arguments tend to end.

Reflecting on this, I found myself thinking more deeply during davening on Shabbos morning. As part of our Tefillah, we recite "Yekum Purkan," where we openly and publicly pray for our Torah leaders. There is also a later-added prayer for communal leaders, but there is no institutionalized prayer for the government and the army in the same way. This discrepancy intrigued me.

While tefilos for the army and the government have been added to our Tefillah in more recent times and undoubtedly have merit, they are not embedded in the more permanent "Yekum Purkan." This led me to wonder: do those who oppose the institutionalized study of Torah (during war times) omit "Yekum Purkan"? And if inclusivity is the goal—there is already a rabbi in Jerusalem who has suggested altering the text to include all genders—why not change the text to explicitly include our soldiers? What is it about our Torah leaders that merits this special, unique Tefillah?

Rav Aharon Lopiansky explained this in a 1984 article in the Jewish Observer. He writes:

“The revered Mirrer Rosh HaYeshiva, Rabbi Chaim Shmuelevitz zt’l would proclaim on Yom Kippur that a soldier who is killed for Klal Yisroel's sake is on the level of Harugei Lod -the martyrs of Lod- who have the greatest share in Olam Haba -the World-to-Come. If the role of the soldiers is so held in awe, why does the Mirrer Yeshiva -and all such places, for that matter- not say "Mi Shebeirach" prayers for the well-being of the State and the army?

As is, the Shabbos liturgy already includes two "Mi Shebeirach's" in the form of the "Yekum Purkan" prayer for two institutions that are the mainstay of Klal Yisroel: the Kehilla (organized community) and the talmidei chachomim (Torah scholars). It is not the prime minister and/or the parliament that give Klal Yisroel its shape. It is the Kahal the gathering of the people in achdus and in union that is Klal Yisroel, per se. The same is true of the inner core of Klal Yisroel which is its Talmidei Chachomim. An army is a necessity of the moment and, to be sure, Tehillim is said as an ad hoc tefilla for its welfare. But the army as an institution, and the Jew as a soldier is not a permanent or intrinsic fixture of Klal Yisroel. The army does not "bring out the best in a Jew," the Beis Midrash does. The army is a temporary answer to a temporary problem. The Beis Midrash is eternal.

In a similar vein, Rabbi Avraham Yitzchak Kook Zt’l once commented that all important institutions in Israel pass on from the father to son, except for Kohein Moshiach Milchama, who was in charge of the wartime obligations of the priesthood. He explained that since war in essence is temporary, so too does the wartime office have no lineal continuity.”

(Jewish Observer: In Search of Freedom and Independence, April 1984)

This perspective offers a nuanced understanding of why certain tefilos exist in our davening and others do not. One can argue passionately about the merits of the army versus Torah study, but we must remember that Torah is the enduring essence of our identity. It is for this reason we pray specifically for those who dedicate their lives to Torah study, who uphold the core pillar of our people, making us an Am Kadosh. Whether these Torah scholars should take a vacation during wartime is indeed a matter of debate, even among the Gedolim, but their role in preserving the flame of Torah through all circumstances deserves our respect.

At the same time, the soldiers who protect us are included in our additional tefilos, even if not in the "Yekum Purkan." This reflects the hope that their service is temporary and that a time will come when the entire world will recognize the truth of our mission as Jews, and there will no longer be a need for an army. However, the fire of Torah will burn brightly in every home.

Ultimately, these issues are complex and require the wisdom of leaders far more knowledgeable and courageous than I. However, it is crucial that we do not allow ourselves to be pitted against one another. We need the army to ensure our physical survival, and we need the Torah to guarantee our spiritual eternity. The balance between these two essential elements will not be achieved through essays or debates online but through respectful dialogue and cooperation among our leaders.

We are stronger when we recognize that we complement each other. The army provides the security for our people to live and thrive; the Torah provides the soul that makes us who we are. The resolution will come not from divisive rhetoric but from a shared commitment to understanding and mutual respect.