Israeli Ultra-Orthodox Jews Face Dilemma: Does God Belong in Politics? : Religion: Their parties are small, but they can tip the balance in the formation of a new government.

In Mea Sharim, the traditional home to ultra-Orthodox Jewry in Jerusalem, neighborhood posters take the place of television and newspapers from the irreligious outside world as sources of information.

The posters, glued on the rough stone walls of the teeming enclave, usually speak of home-grown and religious concerns: an advertisement for voice lessons (“An Expert From Europe Now at the Gates of Jerusalem”); a notice that Avraham the Butcher has moved his shop next door to Nachman the Shoemaker; a warning against sin (“Beware of Those Who Would Lead You From Religion”); a caution to female outsiders to dress modestly (“Please, So As Not to Arouse Bad Feelings.”)

But last week on the walls of Mea Sharim, the parochial and spiritual gave way to wide temporal concerns. Posters appeared attacking the stand of a politician, a member of an ultra-Orthodox party, who wants to support the Labor Party and its leader, Shimon Peres, in the formation of a new government.

Clusters of black-cloaked followers of various ultra-Orthodox sects stopped at the poster. The message spoke of disgrace and betrayal. Asked for an explanation of what it all meant, a bystander replied, “Read the Torah, and perhaps we can understand.”

Mea Sharim, along with the twin religious community of Bnei Brak near Tel Aviv, is suddenly at the epicenter of politics in Israel, and the community is all aflutter. This is a place where the Torah and centuries of Talmudic study have traditionally provided the keys to everyday life. The business of politics was kept at arm’s length.

No more. Leading rabbis are now embroiled in tense negotiations with the country’s top politicians. Ministries and money are at stake. And so is the course that Israel will take in a peace process authored in Washington.

“I don’t think the rabbis should have gotten involved in this,” said a follower of the Hassidic Habad sect passing time on a Mea Sharim sidewalk. “Politics is a dirty game.”

The pivotal role for ultra-Orthodox parties came about because of the deadlock in Israel’s Parliament between Labor’s Peres, backed by leftist allies, and Prime Minister Yitzhak Shamir, his Likud Party and right-wing supporters.

Peres succeeded in bringing Shamir down in a no-confidence vote over whether to proceed with peace talks. Peres wants to negotiate with Palestinians; Shamir has balked over which ones.

Peres has yet to build a replacement coalition. He has the support of leftists and one ultra-Orthodox party, Agudat Israel, which with its five seats gives him 60 parliamentary votes out of 120, just one short of the needed majority. Backing from another ultra-Orthodox party, or at least a defector from one, would put Peres over the top.

To woo the religious, Peres is offering them important ministries: housing, finance, immigration. Political observers give him a 50-50 chance of succeeding.

Perhaps the most curious feature of this crisis is that its resolution depends on three parties that don’t believe, theologically, that the state of Israel should exist at all. The ultra-Orthodox contend that state-building is not the work of Zionists, but of the Messiah, whose coming is ordained for some future time. One weathered poster in Mea Shamir proclaims, “Zionists Are Not Jews.”

Agudat Israel, for example, opposes service in the army, the display of national flags and efforts to devise a written constitution. The party runs for seats in the Knesset, or Parliament, in order to procure funds for its social and educational institutions, not to rule over a secular state.

Suddenly, however, Agudat (Union of Israel) and the other parties are thrust into the most delicate of national issues--peace. But peace is not the only issue for the ultra-Orthodox, and therein lies much confusion.

Agudat is estranged from Shamir because of promises they believe he broke during the last coalition talks that followed the 1988 parliamentary elections. Normally, the party would back Shamir because he shares Agudat’s belief that Greater Israel, including the occupied West Bank and Gaza Strip, should belong to Jews.

The two other ultra-Orthodox parties, Shas (six seats) and Degel Hatorah (two), used to be part of Agudat but split from it in part because of conflicts that developed in Eastern European Judaism two centuries ago. Agudat is made up of Hassidim, who put emphasis on ecstasy, visions and enthusiastic communal worship; Shas and Degel Hatorah are “Oppositionists,” who see biblical study as the main path of devotion.

So, Degel Hatorah (Torah Flag) opposes Peres in part because Agudat favors him. Also, Peres is backed by secular leftists who are generally anathema to the ultra-Orthodox.

But Shas, which is linked religiously to Degel Hatorah, is tempted to go with Peres. Shas spiritual leader Rabbi Ovadia Yosef believes that the Labor leader will make substantial moves toward peace. Yosef made news last year when he proclaimed that saving lives took precedence over retaining the West Bank and Gaza.

That doesn’t mean Shas (Sephardic Torah Guardians) can easily go with Peres. The party represents numerous voters of North African and Near Eastern descent who are suspicious of European-dominated Labor. The party is in an uproar over what to do.

The much-perused political poster in Mea Sharim was directed at Shas and one of its politicians, Rabbi Aryeh Deri. However, in a final twist, the tract turned out to be neither the work of dissidents within the party nor of ultra-Orthodox rivals. Instead, it was put up by Gush Emunim, a militant nationalist group that wants Israel to hold on to the West Bank and Gaza Strip, police said.

On Friday, posters went up from Shas supporters in defense of Deri (“God Bless You, Rabbi”).

All this seemed to confuse readers.

“Reading the Torah will make you know more than any politician,” said a Hassidic passer-by. “That’s what we should read.”