By Nomi Kaltmann as seen in The Jewish Review of Books
18 December 2025
Did I ever imagine that a friend’s father would be murdered on the sands of Bondi Beach, Australia’s most iconic and beautiful beach, because he was Jewish? No. Did I imagine that my WhatsApp chats would be filled with the names of injured fellow Jews to pray for? No. I never imagined that this level of antisemitic carnage was possible in Australia.
And yet, it is less surprising now, in the two years and two months since October 7, 2023, than it would have been at any time in the 160 years since my family decided to settle here. We grew up believing that this country had our back. That we could thrive fully and openly in both of our identities, as Jews and as Australians. Our national story does not include many examples of sustained, violent hatred directed at Jews.
Yet from the infamous protest on the steps of the Sydney Opera House, where a group of protestors chanted “fuck the Jews” and “where are the Jews,” onwards, the Jewish community has been telling Australia’s government, police, and civic leaders that we do not feel safe. The response has been weak and ineffective. Despite dozens of complaints lodged with the police about antisemitic incidents, it took until December 2024 to set up a taskforce to deal with the myriad of antisemitic attacks. Charges against persons who committed antisemitic acts only arrived after a prolonged waves of incidents across the country, rather than an immediate, visible prosecutorial deterrent. Unlike Americans, Australians generally trust their government. Since October 7, that trust has not been reciprocated.
When the terrorists opened fire on the Jews assembled to celebrate the first night of Hanukkah on Bondi Beach, my friend Sheina’s 62-year-old father, Reuven Morrison, tried to stop them by throwing bricks, while bystander Ahmed al Ahmed tackled one of the terrorists. Morrison was murdered on the beach he loved; Ahmed was critically injured. These two immigrants, from Russia and Syria respectively, show Australia at its best. As do the Aussie lifeguards and volunteers who gathered the abandoned shoes and belongings of the victims that had been scattered across the sand and laid them out along the shore, waiting for their owners to return.
Do I believe I have a future in this country, the country I have always loved and called home? The honest answer is that I do not know.
Still, Hanukkah asks us to light candles even when the darkness feels overwhelming. Not because the light is guaranteed to win, but because lighting it is our obligation. Australia must live up to its own obligation as a state and society—or succumb to something much darker.