What if IDF donors get tired before Hamas does?

“How can you sleep at night?!” That is the response I generally got when I was asked in the months after October 7 how my family was affected by war and answered that my three boys are fighting in Gaza. Though the question was rhetorical, I answered that I sleep well because I trust my sons, their commanders, and their comrades to act prudently to minimize the risks they face while doing their utmost to destroy the Hamas terror group. I have been working the longest hours of my life to make sure our soldiers in Gaza have the gear they need to stay safe: By the time I go to bed, pure exhaustion makes it easy to sleep soundly.

Recently, though, I’ve been dealing with a question that does cause me to lose sleep. After launching a campaign, together with extraordinary partners, to buy ballistic glasses to protect our soldiers from eye injuries, I’ve received responses along the following lines: “I would love to get everyone I know on board, but my friends are so tired of being asked for money to help one unit after another that if I make an additional appeal, they will block my number. What can I say to people who have been giving generously for six months and tell me they can’t continue?” This problem of “donor fatigue” poses a clear threat to the young Israelis defending our country, who remain dependent on critical equipment the IDF has proven unable to provide. After thinking about this question as if our soldiers’ lives depend on it — which they do — here’s what I plan to tell anyone honest enough to admit to being fatigued and open-minded enough to consider why they should continue giving.

First, I would say: I very much understand where you’re coming from. It is the IDF’s responsibility to provide the vests, ceramic plates, tactical helmets, glasses, surveillance cameras, and other gear needed to safeguard our soldiers, and it’s outrageous that you, living in New York, Los Angeles, Toronto, London, or Tel Aviv should be asked to fund the purchase of items for which the Israeli government should be paying. For that very reason, it is awe-inspiring that you and other supporters of Israel have come through with extraordinary sums, time after time. When the war has been won, I expect that a national commission of inquiry will figure out how this situation came about and will make sure we never again have to rely on private citizens to supply our soldiers.

But I know already who is not responsible for this problem: the brave young men and women on the front lines, risking their lives to compensate for the grave mistakes that made possible the atrocities of October 7^th. They should not have to pay the ultimate price for failures of supply that they did nothing to bring about, and that have left them without the equipment to protect their lives, limbs, and vital organs. To the contrary: they deserve the very best chance of surviving the war sound in body and spirit.

Those of us not in uniform have been given the opportunity to shoulder our share of the war’s burden. While my sacrifice of time and of the funds my wife and I are devoting to this effort pale in comparison to that of the soldiers on the front lines, I feel blessed to be able to do what I can. I humbly suggest that you are also blessed with the chance to use your hard-earned resources for such a worthy cause. Indeed, providing gear for the intrepid fighters of the IDF is the best tzedakah opportunity I have ever encountered. In the Jewish tradition, saving a life is the highest priority, and that’s all the more true when the people we are saving are risking their lives for Israel and the Jewish people — that is, for us.

Let’s be clear: quality gear saves lives. I know of numerous fighters who received tactical helmets that turned away projectiles that would likely have penetrated the outdated model they had been using, or who were given high-quality glasses that deflected shrapnel that could otherwise have struck their eyes. The same is true of ceramic plates that stopped bullets, surveillance cameras that alerted soldiers to ambushes, and other vital equipment that private initiatives have been providing. The philanthropists funding these efforts have been the difference between life and death.

What, then, is the consequence of donor fatigue? I work with the leaders of half a dozen groups that provide lifesaving gear for the IDF, and every one of them knows of hundreds or thousands of soldiers in need of lifesaving equipment that is readily available, whose purchase is being delayed solely due to lack of funds. Every day that the money is not forthcoming, the soldiers who rely on our help continue to face unconscionably high and unnecessary risks.

We need to see this situation in the context of the ongoing war. While the IDF is conducting its campaign with extraordinary skill and determination, Hamas’s gunmen remain unbowed and continue to risk their lives to kill, injure, or kidnap as many soldiers as possible. Hamas is not suffering from “terrorist fatigue.” At the same time, the dedication of our courageous fighters is awe-inspiring. Despite the risks they face daily, the trauma of seeing their comrades maimed or killed, the extreme discomfort of living in a war zone, and the emotional toll on reservists who must leave behind spouses and children for extended periods, our soldiers are united by a simple resolve: to continue fighting until they have completed their mission. They are not suffering from “soldier fatigue.”

Those of us privileged to be the partners of these valiant soldiers cannot, despite the temptation, succumb to “donor fatigue.” We need to continue making the financial sacrifices necessary to give to those sacrificing far more than we are the support they deserve. Only when our shared mission has been accomplished can we allow ourselves the luxury of being tired.