Among the narrow alleys of Jerusalem’s ultra-Orthodox
neighborhoods, women hurry along, pushing baby strollers. Their shaved heads
are wrapped tightly in black headscarves. Progress seems to have bypassed them,
their world far removed from modern society. So removed, in fact, that few
realize they still sit at home and sew.
Dr. Sima Zalcberg-Blak set out to explore the lives of these
women — members of the Toldot Aharon Hasidic sect. "It all started during
a taxi ride to Professor Menachem Friedman, my doctoral advisor. My
dissertation was initially about Haredi employment and economics," she
recalled.
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"A Belz Hasidic woman sitting next to me told me about
the evolution of women's employment in the Hasidic world but added a caveat:
'Except for one sect — Toldot Aharon. There, women just sit at home and sew.
That's all they do.' At that moment, I knew I had a new dissertation
topic."
Friedman was skeptical. How would she penetrate the tightly
closed world of these women? Who would agree to speak with her? Undeterred,
Zalcberg-Blak began her research in the streets of Mea Shearim, approaching
women, introducing herself and asking to speak with them.
"They turned their backs and said, 'We don't speak
Hebrew.'" She visited local stores, sought help and even went to the
neighborhood's ritual bath. There, women welcomed her warmly, but the supervisor
forbade conversations with her, fearing a "desecration of God's
name."
Just as she was about to give up, she received a surprising
invitation from a senior figure in the sect — to attend the wedding celebration
of the rebbe's grandson. Reluctantly, she took a seat at one of the tables and
was astonished when the women around her bombarded her with questions while
sharing their own stories.
They introduced her to a hospitable family and, from there,
the doors opened. After seven years of countless conversations, attending sect
events and meeting senior women, she was able to paint a vivid picture of
Toldot Aharon women.
Zalcberg-Blak, now a senior faculty member at Ariel
University's School of Social Work, comes from a religious Zionist background,
though her father was a Kozhnitz Hasid. She earned her doctorate in sociology
from Bar-Ilan University.
Her book, “They Still Sit and Sew”, offers an in-depth look
into the insular world of Toldot Aharon women, part of one of Israel's most
extreme Hasidic sects.
Toldot Aharon was founded in 1921 by Rabbi Aharon Roth. His
son-in-law, Rabbi Avrohom Yitzchok Kohn, succeeded him, and in 1996 leadership
passed to Rabbi David Kohn, 78, the current rebbe. The sect, numbering nearly
2,000 families, is the largest faction within the ultra-Orthodox community.
Like other Haredi groups, Toldot Aharon fiercely opposes
Zionism and the State of Israel. Its men are easily recognizable by their
striped caftans, which change color from weekday to Sabbath wear — nicknamed
"zebra" attire in Haredi slang.
The women also have a distinct appearance, wearing a tightly
wrapped black headscarf, replaced with a white one on the Sabbath.
Women in the sect strictly shave their heads, leaving no
hair on their scalps. Unlike in other Hasidic communities, where such a
practice might be a stringency, for Toldot Aharon women, it's a fundamental
religious obligation.
Many view it as nearly sacrosanct. One rabbi remarked:
"You might see a few women here without a black headscarf, but shaving — every
single one does it. Otherwise, it's as if they converted out."
A woman who refuses to shave won't find a marriage match
within the sect. Some women shave once a month, usually before immersing in the
mikvah, while others do so every two weeks.
In many cultures, head shaving is seen as humiliating and
degrading to women. So why do Toldot Aharon women submit to this practice month
after month? Are they coerced, or is it purely a matter of religious
commitment?
Zalcberg-Blak found their perspective to be strikingly
different. "For these women, shaving is an identity marker that places
them at the pinnacle of religious and modest living," she explained.
Newlywed brides undergo their first head shave in a festive ceremony where
older women cut their hair while showering them with praise and gifts,
including jewelry.
“Many see the
headscarf and shaved head as bringing redemption closer, instilling a sense of
pride. "One woman told me, 'Our daughters know this is what makes us
special — we’re the only ones who do it properly.'"
The religious significance of shaving is reflected in a
widely told story within the sect. A righteous woman appeared to her daughter
in a dream after her death, saying she was denied entry into the highest level
of heaven.
The reason? A single strand of her hair had peeked out
during her lifetime. "After I heard that story, there were no more
doubts," said one Toldot Aharon woman. "That’s it. There's no other
way. And it’s a true story."
What about aesthetics? "There’s certainly an element of
rationalization," Zalcberg-Blak noted. "Women genuinely believe their
post-wedding appearance is more beautiful. One bride told me: 'Bald is
beautiful for everyone. Even secular women shave their heads these days.' They
see beauty as tied to religious purity, making their look not just
aesthetically pleasing but spiritually ideal. Some also say that without hair,
their facial features stand out more, making them look better."
‘Building a Torah home’
While ultra-Orthodox women from other sects have increasingly
entered the workforce in fields like tech, architecture and finance, Toldot
Aharon women remain rooted in traditional gender roles — raising children,
cooking and sewing.
"This is one reason why both men and women in the sect
have limited formal education and their primary language is Yiddish,"
Zalcberg-Blak explained. "Sect leaders don't want women exposed to the
outside world. The strong push for traditional roles leaves them with few
practical skills for employment, even if they wanted to work."
What do they study? "They learn some history — but only
Jewish history. Zionism isn’t mentioned. Science is taught at a basic level
under the title 'Wonders of the Creator.' Much of their schooling is devoted to
'practical studies' — cooking, baking and sewing."
One female sect leader elaborated: "We try to make
school practical. A girl should leave with something useful for life... The
goal is to build a Torah home. If a husband is to study full-time, his wife
must support him financially."
Sewing is a skill every Toldot Aharon woman learns from
childhood and proficiency in cooking and baking is a source of pride.
Their religious studies are also distinct — not just in what
they learn, but in what they don’t. Girls in elementary school don’t study the
Bible directly from texts. Instead, teachers present it orally, omitting
portions that reference sexuality, such as the stories of Judah and Tamar or
the Levite’s concubine. They receive a specially adapted version of the Torah
in Yiddish, stripped of "problematic" content.
Cracks in the system
"Almost every family has someone with one foot out the
door or who has left the Hasidic sect entirely," one woman told the
researcher. Zalcberg-Blak avoided sweeping generalizations but acknowledges
that cracks are indeed forming in the community’s strict walls.
"To a large extent, the infiltration of the internet
and technology into this conservative group has brought about changes, despite
efforts to combat them."
The sect's official stance strictly forbids the use of
technology and the prohibition is so deeply ingrained that one mother recounted
how, when her daughters got lost in the city center, they refused a passerby’s
offer to use her smartphone to call their mother, insisting that even touching
such a device was forbidden.
However, Zalcberg-Blak discovered that some women do manage
to handle these devices — and even communicate with her through them.
"There were women who chatted with me online and
mentioned that their husbands had no idea. He doesn’t even understand what the
device is. We’re talking about the late-night hours, when the husband is
already asleep and the wife finally has time to use the forbidden device."
Still, not everyone who "strays from the path"
necessarily abandons religious observance. "In recent years, we’re seeing
partial departures — leaving the sect while still choosing to keep
mitzvot," she explained. Women who have taken this route simply say that
the lifestyle they were raised in didn’t suit them. Not everyone meets Toldot
Aharon's rigid standards.
One such woman is Faige, whom the researcher met at the
wedding of Kohn’s youngest daughter. Faige stood out from the other women — her
long dress concealed her figure, she wore prominent earrings and a blonde wig
covered her head.
When Zalcberg-Blak inquired about her connection to the
family, Faige surprised her by revealing that she was Kohn’s daughter. She
explained that while she remained Haredi, she had taken a different path:
"About 15 years ago, I got divorced and decided to leave the group. Toldot
Aharon isn't for everyone."
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