The one on the verge of collapse is not the reservist, but his support structure

In recent weeks, instead of attending their children's graduation parties or taking end-of-year university exams, many reservists have put on their uniforms again and joined their companies — in southern Lebanon, in Gaza, in Syria, or in the West Bank. They do this not because the price has become easier, but because they are not willing to leave their friends alone. The reserve system holds up thanks to camaraderie, a sense of mission, and the willingness of its people to pay a heavy personal price. After almost three years of war, the very fact that they still show up is amazing. And that is exactly why this commitment must not be exploited as if it were an unlimited resource.

The reserve system is still showing up. This is the good news, and also the dangerous one. As long as the battalions arrive for their missions, it is easy for the IDF and the state to assume that the system is holding, and that it is possible to continue leaning on it — while exploiting the commitment of its people to the limit. But behind the attendance data hides a harder picture: an eroded system, units in which some attendance percentages are very low and which are effectively becoming hollow, and a civilian support structure that is already near the edge.

In the IDF, it is customary to count frameworks, battalions, and companies, but this count does not tell the whole story. The battalion exists, but some of its soldiers do not arrive for justified reasons, others have announced they will no longer come, and many arrive but need frequent vacations to survive. This creates a unit that is counted on paper as complete, but in practice is hollow. The mission falls on too few fighters, in a way that wears them down and also harms their operational capability. In the armored corps, this is compounded by a shortage of equipment due to damage and maintenance problems. But the one who is currently on the verge of collapse is not necessarily the reservist himself, but the support structure that allows him to show up.

The families have borne a huge burden. Even the most committed and supportive spouses find it difficult to bear another holiday alone, another Friday without a father, another graduation party he misses, and another period of managing the house alongside constant worry for his safety. Employers are also struggling. Some of them lose key employees again and again. And the reservist, even if not fired, may find that his practical place in the organization is eroded. Students miss courses, exams, and semesters, and not in every institution or with every lecturer do they receive the necessary understanding. After almost three years, everyone is tired — not of the commitment to the state, but of living in a state of emergency that has no clear boundaries.

And to all this is added an unbearable inequality in the burden. Precisely when reservists and their families are being worn down, the moves approved by the Knesset — the Basic Law: Torah Study and the law intended to freeze the arrest of Haredi draft dodgers — did not bring a large public closer to service, but pushed it even further away. Instead of putting shoulders under the stretcher and easing the burden on the system, the state signals to the angry reservists that they will continue to carry it almost alone.

I have already written here in the past that the ongoing 'Order 8' is very convenient for the IDF. Too convenient. It allows for changing recruitment and release dates, extending service, and changing plans on short notice. In a real state of emergency, there is no choice. But it is impossible to manage the reserve system for years as if every change is an emergency. The IDF must impose limitations on itself even if they are not anchored in law: commit to a quota of days and stick to it, certainly in periods of ceasefire and relative quiet; do not change an order except in a truly exceptional case; and determine in advance when the service begins, when it ends, and what is expected during it. Certainty is not a luxury. It is a condition for soldiers, families, employers, and commanders to be able to hold on.

At the same time, the number of reserve days must be reduced. The IDF is deployed in many sectors, and it is rightly still acting out of the trauma of October 7 and is not willing to take risks. But risk management is not a pursuit of zero risk. In a period of relative quiet, the number of frameworks in each sector should be re-examined, forces reduced where possible, and units released. Sometimes it is right to accept a limited operational risk to prevent a greater strategic risk: the erosion of the reserve system. And above all hovers the problem of competence. The reserve system has hardly trained since October 7; it is fighting or holding the line. Even the regular soldiers who are now being released join the reserve system after years of fighting, but without a structured sequence of training. Commander training has been shortened, and it is difficult to find officers willing to accept responsibility involving dozens more days of service. The result is dangerous: it is not always the best who command, but those who are still able to agree.

The reservists have proven beyond any doubt that they will arrive when needed. Now it is the turn of the state and the IDF to prove that they know how to protect them. Not just to thank them, but to create certainty, reduce service, restore training, and rehabilitate the command structure. The reserve system has not collapsed. But we must not continue to test how much more can be asked of our best people before it empties from within.

Brigadier General (Res.), Dr. Ariel Heimann, Senior Research Fellow at the Institute for National Security Studies (INSS), and former Chief Reserve Officer.