Introduction

“Discipline is neither divisible nor optional.” Repeated to thousands of cadets at morning and evening drills at Bahad 1, the IDF Officer Training School, this sentence became both a motto and a guiding principle. Master Sergeant Taito, Bahad 1’s legendary disciplinarian, a figure remembered by generations of commanders, was not concerned only with clean uniforms or proper posture. His point went to the essence of military life: discipline cannot depend on personal preference or convenience. It is an essential foundation of a professional and victorious army.

In this article, we examine an issue that has made the headlines in recent weeks: the disciplinary case of a Nahal Brigade soldier who wore a patch inscribed with the word “Messiah” during a visit by IDF Chief of Staff Lt. Gen. Eyal Zamir. The combat soldier was sentenced to 30 days detention; his platoon commander received a 14-day suspended sentence; his company commander was reprimanded; and his battalion commander received a formal command warning. The incident set off a public uproar, including a letter from parents of Nahal soldiers and statements by Knesset members and public figures. The controversy exposed a deeper tension over discipline in the IDF.

The IDF has struggled with discipline from its very beginning. Founded in 1948 in the middle of a war, it had to fuse two military cultures that did not naturally fit together. The underground movements—the Haganah, Palmach, Irgun, and Lehi—brought an informal ethos of initiative and freedom of action. Veterans of the British Army brought a different inheritance: order, hierarchy, professionalism, and strict organization. Ben-Gurion tried to harness both traditions by appointing Haim Laskov, a British Army veteran, to head the IDF’s training bureau and command the cadre tasked with training the newly formed army’s brigades after the war. The purpose was to take the best of both worlds: initiative and creativity, alongside order and discipline.

The tension between these two cultures never disappeared. The air force and armored corps adopted a stricter disciplinary culture, while the infantry preserved a looser ethos rooted in the tradition of the Palmach. The IDF was never an orderly “Prussian” army: standards of appearance were not always exacting, drills were often perceived as a form of punishment, and a lack of uniformity in dress reflected the character of a people’s army.

Discipline is not a technical matter; it rests on a deeper principle. A clean weapon, an orderly vest, and proper appearance are expressions of readiness, professional pride, and a culture of responsibility. A soldier who tosses his equipment onto the floor of a bus may find himself without a weapon at the decisive moment. Discipline in routine is what saves lives in combat. Over the years, State Comptroller reports have repeatedly emphasized that poor discipline is a major factor in training accidents and avoidable casualties in combat.

The Second Lebanon War in 2006 showed the bitter cost of loose discipline. As part of the  lessons drawn from the war, the IDF improved discipline through stricter standards, surprise inspections, drills, uniform enforcement, and an emphasis on personal example. The result was a better-trained and more disciplined army.

In recent years, especially during the “War of Redemption,” discipline has deteriorated. Nonstandard tactical uniforms, a proliferation of patches, and outside donations of equipment and clothing have produced an army in which each unit looks different. The failure to deal with refusal to serve, along with selective enforcement of discipline, compounded the problem. Together, these trends led to numerous operational and safety failures that were not properly addressed, sending a damaging message.

This article analyzes the roots of the IDF’s discipline problems, the current challenges, and the way to address them. Its central argument is that a victorious army requires discipline that is uniform, consistent, and grounded in values. Discipline cannot be divided between routine and combat, between religious symbols and other nonstandard symbols or between junior commanders and senior officers. Safety regulations must be adhered to. Only impartial enforcement across the board will enable the IDF to meet the many challenges it faces.

Military Discipline and Its Importance

Discipline means order and obedience among soldiers, rooted in their understanding of the duties they are charged with; their willingness to act according to required standards; and their adherence to accepted societal moral and behavioral rules. That understanding, willingness, and adherence are instilled through education, training, and personal example.

Military discipline is not merely a technical or formal concept. It is a foundational principle for the existence and functioning of any professional army. It cannot be divided: an army cannot be disciplined in combat but lax in routine, or strict about safety procedures while allowing deviations in appearance. In the IDF, the disciplinary system serves as a central command tool, positioned between minor command measures and criminal proceedings. It enables commanders to enforce order without lengthy legal process.

State Comptroller Annual Report No. 37, published in 1986, devoted a special chapter to discipline in the IDF. The report noted that most of the colonel- to major general–rank officers interviewed by the State Comptroller pointed to a range of disciplinary problems. Some said orders were not taken seriously and that some orders were not carried out. Others stated that personal example was lacking. Some said orders were sometimes issued without adequate consideration, or to “cover their backs.” Others focused on the absence of enforcement: failures to carry out orders were waived, and the system had “learned to live with waivers.”

The report also addressed training accidents. Its findings showed that lack of discipline was a major factor in various types of accidents, and that the fatal consequences of poor discipline require a comprehensive response to the phenomenon, not only treatment of specific problems in road safety or training safety.

Over the years, there has been a close and clearly identifiable link between poor discipline and training accidents, lost weapons, friendly-fire incidents, and avoidable casualties. The Second Lebanon War in 2006 exposed these problems in their full severity: units emerged from emergency depots in disarray after collecting their equipment; their vehicles had not received basic maintenance; commanders issued orders by cell phone; and soldiers carried their personal phones into combat zones, transmitting force locations to Hezbollah. Many casualties were caused not by enemy fire but by accidents and failures rooted in poor discipline.

Ben-Gurion captured the IDF’s underlying tension when he wrote: There is no need to dwell on the importance of discipline and courage. Without discipline, an army becomes an armed mob that poses a danger to the state and its citizens; without courage, an army cannot be relied on. Initiative may appear to contradict discipline, because an army operates by orders at every rank and in every formation, and the personal initiative of soldiers and commanders may seem to run counter to discipline. But this is not so. Discipline and initiative do not contradict one another; they complement one another.

Nor can discipline be left to personal choice. As Ben-Gurion wrote, “Discipline in the army is like air for breathing.” It must apply uniformly: to junior soldiers and senior commanders, to regular and reserve units, and to routine and combat alike. Once discipline becomes partial—for example, enforcing rules against a “Messiah” patch while ignoring other patches, allowing outside donations that create nonuniformity, or selective handling of refusal to serve—it loses its force.

The challenge is greater in the IDF than in many other militaries because it combines compulsory service with reserves. Unlike professional armies, it draws soldiers from every sector of society. That makes discipline all the more important: it must be clear, consistent, and grounded in the personal example set by commanders. Taito, and many like him, were right. Discipline is a fundamental command tool. It creates a unit culture in which every soldier understands what is expected of him.

In the War of Redemption, we saw how poor discipline manifests itself in repeated friendly-fire incidents, safety incidents, and inconsistent conduct. Yet in the disciplinary and command response, no clear message was transmitted down from the army’s command echelon. There were almost no disciplinary actions in cases of serious violations; senior officers were dismissed mainly over other issues; and dozens of disciplinary breaches were not handled in a way that conveyed a clear standard. This is a dangerous situation: when the price for violating discipline is not uniform, soldiers and commanders learn that everything is “flexible.”

In the current era of warfare, marked by drones, combat in built-up areas, and complex threats, discipline has become even more critical. Proper force deployment, continuous observation, avoidance of troop concentrations, accurate reporting, and information security all depend on discipline. Technology alone cannot provide the answer. The most important factor is the operational conduct of forces in the field and their iron discipline.

Between the Palmach Ethos and the British Model

From the moment it was established on May 26, 1948, in the midst of a bloody war, the IDF was burdened by an unresolved tension between two military cultures. It was not built as a regular army through an orderly, top-down process. It was forced into being through the difficult merger of disparate military corps, some of them very different in character, culture, and attitude toward combat and discipline. The core of the IDF’s founding base came from pre-state underground units—the Haganah, the Palmach, the Irgun, and Lehi—alongside thousands of British Army veterans, including former members of the Jewish Brigade who had served in World War II. The friction between these two traditions became one of the IDF’s enduring features.

Ben-Gurion understood from the outset that divided armed forces would endanger the state. As prime minister and defense minister, he therefore moved decisively to establish a single national army subordinate to the government. The shelling of the Altalena and the dismantling of the Palmach headquarters were part of that effort. But Ben-Gurion sought to combine the initiative, creativity, fighting spirit, and ability to operate under conditions of scarcity that characterized the underground fighters with the order, organization, hierarchy, and strict discipline of the British Army.

Haim Laskov’s appointment to key positions reflected this approach. Laskov, a British Army veteran who later became the IDF’s fifth chief of staff, was appointed head of the IDF’s training bureau and commander of the cadre responsible for preparing the newly formed army’s brigades after the war. Although he had served in the Haganah before World War II, his professional military experience came from his wartime service in the British Army. He advocated the creation of a regular, organized, and disciplined army, built around methodical training, exercises, and order. For Ben-Gurion, Laskov was the figure who could help rein in the Palmach’s informal and undisciplined ethos and turn the IDF into a modern army.

The Palmach embodied the opposing model. Established in 1941 as the Haganah’s elite force, its fighters were raised on informal equality, a rejection of ceremony, personal initiative, and informal relations between commanders and soldiers. Its culture prized fighting spirit and improvisation in the field, even when these came at the expense of discipline and routine. Many of its commanders, among them Yigal Allon, Yitzhak Rabin, and Moshe Dayan, brough that ethos with them to the IDF.

British Army veterans a very different military inheritance. Their standards centered on uniform and exacting appearance, drill, clear hierarchy, precise procedures, and routine care of equipment. They viewed discipline not merely as a technical tool, but as a moral value and a condition for military success. The tension between the two approaches was already evident in the first days of the war. Ben-Gurion tried to manage it by leaving Palmach commanders in key field positions while assigning British Army veterans responsibility for organization, training, and logistics.

Over time, this tension became a permanent feature of the IDF. In broad terms, the more technological arms—the air force, armored corps, and artillery corps—adopted the British model, with tighter discipline, precise operating procedures, and high professional standards. The air force, for example, developed a culture of “zero errors,” in which discipline is treated as a matter of life and death. Regular and reserve infantry units, by contrast, retained more of the Palmach spirit: a flexible approach that was sometimes also forgiving toward errors and disciplinary problems.

The combination of these two traditions has been one of the IDF’s sources of strength, but also one of its persistent sources of tension. When the army’s leadership is lax in enforcing discipline, training accidents and operational failures often follow. The idea that different kinds of discipline can be separated from one another is mistaken. Discipline cannot be partial or applied according to convenience. It must be a uniform foundation that draws on the best of both traditions: discipline that reinforces a spirit of initiative.

Back to Basics After the Second Lebanon War

The Second Lebanon War in 2006 marked a turning point. It exposed deep operational, logistical, and command failures, including severe deficiencies in discipline, organization, and basic readiness. Internal investigations found that weak discipline in routine had contributed directly to some of the failures in combat.

After the war, the IDF launched a broad institutional effort to return to basics, placing force buildup, training, and discipline at the forefront of military readiness. The core premise was straightforward: an army that neglects the fundamentals—well maintained equipment, adherence to procedures, routine organization, and orderly appearance—will not be able to carry out complex missions on the battlefield. Several key ideas shaped this process and were gradually implemented across the military.

To embed this change, the army instituted surprise inspections at every level, from the General Staff base to front line outposts. Senior commanders arrived at units without advance notice and inspected the condition of equipment, the cleanliness and maintenance of emergency warehouses, soldiers’ appearance, and compliance with safety procedures. Repeated drills became a central tool for instilling a culture of order and responsibility.

The inspections went beyond appearance. They also examined discipline and safety records. Units that failed inspections were required to submit plans to rectify the situation, and their commanders were summoned to account for the failures before the chief of staff. The central principle was personal example: senior commanders had to lead from the front, not merely issue orders. When the top command observes the same rules it expects of others, the message travels clearly down the chain of command.

The return to basics also restored disciplinary proceedings as a core command tool. The emphasis was on uniform enforcement, with no exemptions—not even for “special forces.”  Mobile phones were prohibited during operational missions, maintenance procedures were tightened, and truthful reporting of failures was made part of the army’s operating culture. Discipline was meant to become the army’s air supply: natural, self-evident, and not a matter of choice. A clean weapon, orderly equipment, and uniform appearance were treated as expressions of operational readiness. Soldiers trained to observe small details in routine would be more likely to do so under the pressure of combat as well.

Within a few years, the process produced a clear improvement. The army became better trained, more disciplined, and better organized. Regular army and reserve units alike demonstrated higher readiness in training and operational activity. Training accidents declined, and awareness of safety and discipline increased at all levels. The return to basics proved that discipline is a necessary condition for victory. It created an organizational culture in which every soldier and commander understood that adherence to the basics is what separates a professional force from an improvised one.

This process, however, required long-term commitment. It showed that substantial improvement is possible when the senior command treats discipline as a critical value. Yet over time, discipline and professionalism in the IDF once again began to erode.

The Erosion of Discipline and the War of Redemption

The decline in IDF discipline was not sudden. It began gradually in the years before the War of Redemption and worsened during the war itself. It reflected the combined effect of social and political developments, operational pressures, and a reluctance by commanders to confront deep-rooted problems. What began as isolated practices in certain units became a much broader wave that damaged uniformity, readiness, and command standards.

One visible sign of this erosion was the spread of “uniqueness” as a norm. The army’s uniform appearance began to break down as mostly reserve units, but also some regular army formations, adopted assorted “tactical” uniforms, personal patches, and unit insignia. Donations and private purchases replaced standard-issue in many cases, including nonstandard boots and privately acquired “tactical” uniforms. What began in the special forces, which had long enjoyed exceptional treatment and exemptions from certain orders and procedures, quickly spread across the army. The result was that units no longer shared a common military appearance; sometimes even units within the same brigade looked different.

In parallel, the 2023 judicial reform crisis exposed an even more serious breach: refusal to serve. The senior command, in the army, the air force, and military intelligence, chose not to draw a firm line against those who announced they would not report for duty as part of a political protest. Instead, the senior command opted to grant leniencies and exemptions in the name of “preserving readiness.” Reserve officers and soldiers who took part in demonstrations wearing uniforms or unit symbols were not dealt with properly. The most striking example was the IDF’s decision to allow regular army officers up to the rank of lieutenant colonel to participate in protests. The message that compromises could be made regarding certain violations and that this was politically acceptable to some commanders seriously harmed discipline.

The outbreak of war turned these trends into a flood. Many units raised donations for equipment: boots, tactical uniforms, drones, night-vision devices, and even weapons. Soldiers routinely received packages of hiking boots, tactical vests, and advanced equipment, often in place of standard-issue gear. Patches spread just as quickly: units adopted their own symbols, including the symbol of the hostages, which became common even among commanders. Especially in regular units, soldiers were not always properly shaven, or their hair was not cut. In the field, particularly in the Gaza Strip, troop concentrations at times did not look like an organized military force.

Then Chief of Staff Herzi Halevi saw these conditions repeatedly during his many visits to forces in the field. Yet he chose to focus the disciplinary response on specific issues, such as graffiti on buildings and the “Messiah” patch —a symbol singled out for enforcement. More substantial  problems such as nonuniform equipment, unsanctioned donations, and repeated friendly-fire incidents, were, in most cases, not met with comparable disciplinary action.

The handling of safety and disciplinary incidents became one of the most serious problems faced by the IDF. Despite an increase in friendly-fire incidents and operational errors, most of these incidents did not lead to strict enforcement. Serious breaches of discipline and safety were often allowed to pass without an adequate response. The failure to deal with refusal to serve before the war, together with lenient handling of disciplinary incidents during the war, created a sense of “selective discipline.” When some violations are ignored because of external considerations or because of a reluctance to “exercise command,” soldiers learn that discipline is a matter of convenience.

The recent case of the Nahal soldier who wore a “Messiah” patch during Chief of Staff Eyal Zamir’s visit, and the severe punishment imposed on him (30 days of military detention) has become symbolic of the situation. On the one hand, it appeared to signal an attempt to impose discipline. On the other, the focus on a Jewish-religious symbol and on a junior soldier, while far more significant patterns of nonuniformity and donations continue unchecked, shifted the debate into a problematic and divisive space.

The current chief of staff often speaks about decisive outcomes, victory, discipline, and values, and has also addressed the prohibition on unauthorized patches. But enforcement remains selective, to put it mildly, and no comprehensive change appears in sight. Selective enforcement over patches; and equipment theft all point to a discipline problem inside the IDF. This erosion is dangerous because it weakens the army’s foundations. Loose discipline can undermine trust, damage morale, and reduce readiness.

Conclusion and Recommendations

In war, military discipline is not limited to appearance, clean uniforms, or drill. It becomes a critical operational tool. In an earlier article on the challenge posed by explosive-laden drones in the Lebanon theater, we argued that the first and most immediate response must come at the tactical level, in the conduct of forces in the field, and not only through long-term technological solutions. This is precisely where operational discipline becomes decisive.

The War of Redemption, in both Gaza and Lebanon, exposed the realities of modern warfare: dense urban combat, widespread use of attack drones, including explosive-laden drones, precision missile threats, electronic warfare, and enemy intelligence built on observation, cellular communications, and social media. In that environment, even a small mistake such as  concentrating forces, careless movement, or a breach of standard operating procedures, can end in disaster.

Discipline requires strict adherence to basic operational principles. Forces must avoid concentrating soldiers and vehicles in one place. They must occupy protected positions, use terrain, concealment, and rapid fortification, assign observers and guards, maintain 360-degree vigilance, protect information and communications through controlled use of electronic devices, and follow combat safety procedures, including force identification, precise marking of force locations, and mutual reporting to prevent friendly fire. This is only a partial illustrative list. Violating these principles is not merely an operational mistake; it is a breach of discipline.

The Gaza arena repeatedly illustrated how operational indiscipline exacts a price. Forces moving through dense urban areas without sufficient observation, large groups of soldiers gathered near vehicles, and daily movement along unchanged routes all became easy targets for explosive charges and Hamas anti-tank squads. The same logic applies in Lebanon. Hezbollah’s attack drones do not distinguish between special forces and regular units. They look for thermal signatures, unsecured movement, and concentrations of forces. Only strict tactical discipline, including dispersion of forces, concealment, frequent changes of position, and making sure not to expose location, can reduce risk.

All of this requires a high level of discipline. It is not sufficient for a commander to write a protocol; soldiers must internalize it, train on it, and apply it even after long weeks in the field, when fatigue and routine begin to take their toll. This brings us back to this paper’s key point: discipline is indivisible. A soldier who in routine throws his vest onto the floor of a transport vehicle, is unshaven, or violates dress regulations will encounter difficulties in following tactical deployment protocols or maintain spacing between vehicles under combat conditions. Unit culture is built in routine and revealed in combat. That is why disciplinary instructions must be enforced across the board, from the top down, with commanders setting a personal example and being held personally accountable when they fail to enforce discipline in their units.

The current war has displayed the IDF’s fighting spirit, initiative, and creativity—the legacy of the Palmach. But it has also exposed the costs of nonuniformity, outside donations, and an “each unit for itself” approach that weakens the army’s ability to maintain common operational standards. Uniform discipline is difficult to instill when some forces look like “private special units,” with different equipment and operating protocols of their own. The problem has been compounded by unclear enforcement and contradictory messages from the army’s leadership to commanders in the field.

Addressing this problem and thereby strengthening the IDF require a comprehensive and binding institutional effort. Discipline must be defined and enforced uniformly, not selectively. The army also needs a clear and mandatory policy requiring full uniformity in dress, equipment, and permitted insignia, along with a prohibition on unauthorized outside donations of clothing and personal equipment.

The disciplinary system must again become a strong and uniform command tool, with consistent enforcement at every level and no leniencies or unit-based special exemptions. The senior command, led by the chief of staff, must drive this change through personal example, frequent surprise inspections, and direct handling of problems. Discipline should also be integrated routinely into training programs, with a clear link drawn between discipline in routine and discipline in operations. Refusal to serve must be dealt with firmly within the army.

The IDF faces security challenges of unprecedented complexity. Against determined enemies equipped with advanced technology, only a disciplined, organized, and professional army can achieve decision and victory. The current chief of staff, who has repeatedly emphasized decision and discipline, can and must lead the comprehensive effort needed to return the IDF back to the right path.

Discipline, and its uniform enforcement, is not a luxury and not a matter of personal preference. It is a necessary condition for a victorious army. The point should be kept firmly in mind: “Discipline is neither divisible nor optional.”

JISS Policy Papers are published through the generosity of the Greg Rosshandler Family.