The Meron Tragedy: When Tradition Meets a Changing Reality

There are some simple truths that were clear before the horrific Lag Ba’Omer disaster on Mt. Meron, in which 45 Israelis were killed, and many more injured. But these realities will only receive increased attention after this tragedy.

The Meron custom is similar to the bonfire custom. As I wrote a few days ago (in Hebrew), a country of three million people could accommodate the bonfires of all children. A country of ten million people may find it difficult to breathe if everyone continues to light a bonfire. In the context of bonfires, it is evident that this new reality has been internalized in certain cities but not in others. In Tel Aviv, overall, there was not much fire. Jerusalem, on the other hand, was filled with bonfires.

This happens, among other things, because the religious (especially the ultra-Orthodox public) have a built-in difficulty in adapting to rapid changes that threaten old traditions. Change is contrary to the ultra-Orthodox DNA, which seeks to preserve old traditions. And what is true of bonfires is also true of Mt. Meron. It is essential to manage the Meron custom at a safe level. There is no way to sustain it at its current level without risking more tragedies. But it is very difficult for the ultra-Orthodox public to stop these customs.

How many ultra-Orthodox come to Meron every year? At the #IsraeliJudaism project of the Jewish People Policy Institute, we did the math. It’s not complicated. Fourteen percent of Jewish Israelis say they go to Meron on Lag B’Omer when they can. That’s about a million people. In practice, not everyone comes every year. About half of that number do.

But what is interesting is the fact that two-thirds of those who define themselves as ultra-Orthodox say they go to Meron, and another third define themselves as “Dati Torani” (Zionist Haredi). This means that there is a norm of attending in a population whose birth rate is very high. So if a million want to go to Meron today, in a few years there will be a million and two hundred thousand, then a million and a half, then two million. And the site remains the same size. The custom remains the same custom. Disaster is only a matter of time.

The custom remains the same custom. Disaster is only a matter of time.

It is easy to blame the police for this incident, and it seems to be what many are doing. Why, people ask, did the police not prepare, why it did not make sure that the site is safe, why did it not alert the public? The answer is simple: The police find it difficult to deal with the ultra-Orthodox public, who generally do as they please and are backed by political forces. This was evident during the pandemic, when the police had trouble enforcing the law in areas influenced by rabbinical powers.

This lack of police power over the ultra-Orthodox was also evident in Meron. Last year infiltrators came to Meron when it was closed due to the pandemic. This year, a plan to restrict visitor entry faded as if it did not exist. The Ministry of Health wanted no more than ten thousand people on the site; it was unceremoniously rejected. Ultra-Orthodox politicians wanted more people, and they got what they wante. (Of course, not because they wanted a tragedy to happen. And people weren’t crushed by large crowds because of the coronavirus limits.)

Still, such conduct symbolizes what happens when someone tries to impose a restriction on a tradition the ultra-Orthodox want preserved. The institutions say no, the ultra-Orthodox leaders say yes, and the ultra-Orthodox leaders win. This affects the police, who naturally put in less effort because there is no point in even trying to keep law and order with this public.

Sadly, that understanding of danger is what probably happened last night. As in many previous instances, we needed a disaster to teach us a lesson.

Shmuel Rosner is an Israeli columnist, editor, and researcher. He is the editor of the research and data-journalism website themadad.com and is the political editor of the Jewish Journal.