On a warm June day in 2011, Nili Philipp was powering her bike down Herzog Boulevard, a major thoroughfare in Beit Shemesh, a sleepy bedroom community in the Judean hills. A pretty, vivacious mother of five and fitness buff, Philipp is what American Jews would call “modern Orthodox” and Israelis call “national religious.” She keeps a kosher home and wears a knee-length skirt and head scarf, as traditional Jewish law demands, but she is also a confident college-trained engineer, with a smartphone and high-tech sneakers. As she rode, she tried to push the anxiety she felt to the back of her mind.

The Canadian-born Philipp and her husband had moved to Beit Shemesh in 2000 for its affordability and its beautiful bike trails and hills, but also for its diversity. Back then, secular Jews, modern-Orthodox Jews, and the Haredim, or ultra-Orthodox, lived peacefully side by side. Philipp had loved to shop in the Haredi neighborhoods, where clothing and diapers were always cheaper. But over the past five years, as Beit Shemesh had changed, Philipp found these neighborhoods increasingly foreign and felt uneasy visiting them.

READ: More Battles in Israel's Beit Shemesh

After an influx of Haredi families had poured into the city in search of affordable housing, official-looking posters cautioning women to “dress modestly” had appeared around town. Signs were now posted near Haredi synagogues ordering women not to “linger” or make noise. When she went on runs, the five-foot-tall Philipp wore her long skirt and head scarf. But despite her modest dress, on several occasions, Haredi men had cursed her and spat on her, perceiving the mere sight of a woman running as offensive to their beliefs. When she went biking, Philipp had tried wearing a skirt, but when doing so proved neither practical nor safe she switched to knee-length shorts—the longest she could find—and a short-sleeved jersey.

As she cycled in this outfit past a traffic circle bordering a Haredi neighborhood, she saw a modesty sign and the husk of a shopping center vandalized by Haredi men who feared the project would attract “indecent” non-Haredi customers like Philipp. Suddenly, something struck her on the head, hard. A Haredi man had thrown a rock the size of her fist at her. It bounced off her helmet and clattered to the ground. Shaken, she called for help. But other Haredi men, picking their way along the sidewalk in their black suits and brimmed hats, ignored her. The escalation—from spitting to real violence—left her terrified.