My grandfather survived the Holocaust and came to Australia believing he had found something precious: a country where his children and grandchildren could live without the antisemitism he had endured in Poland.
In the 1990s, recording his testimony for Steven Spielberg’s Shoah Foundation, he left future generations this message:
‘You are lucky to grow up in a country like Australia, a country free of the antisemitism we grew up with in Poland. Don’t let anyone make you feel second class. Always be kind to all mankind, but importantly, always be a proud Jew.’
I find myself grateful he is no longer here to witness what has happened to that Australia.
On December 14, 2025, terrorists murdered 15 innocent people celebrating Hanukkah at Bondi Beach. It was an atrocity that shattered families and took innocent lives. It confirmed the fears Jewish Australians had been voicing since October 9, 2023, when hateful antisemitic chants echoed from the steps of the Sydney Opera House.
At the October 25 launch of Bondi Terror, co-author Sharri Markson from News24 asked two questions that have haunted our community:
‘Is there something worse still to come? Have the lessons of Bondi truly been learned, especially by our political leaders and law enforcement?’
They are questions every Australian should be asking.
Could something worse happen? Tragically, we cannot dismiss that possibility. For more than two years before Bondi, Jewish Australians warned of escalating antisemitism, intimidation, and attacks on Jewish institutions. Until those threats are confronted decisively, the fear of another atrocity will remain.
And have the lessons been learned? That is harder to answer with confidence.
When did being Jewish require armed protection?
I attended school in Australia without passing armed guards, security fences and surveillance cameras. Today, Jewish children enter those same campuses under extraordinary security arrangements.
Synagogues, too, require layers of protection simply so Australians can practise their faith.
When did this become normal? Why should we accept that as normal?
There is something profoundly wrong with a country in which Jewish parents must calculate the security risks of sending their children to school or attending religious services.
Jewish Australians have not merely enjoyed this country’s freedoms. They have helped build and defend them.
General Sir John Monash, the Australian-born son of Jewish immigrants, commanded the Australian Corps during decisive Allied victories in the first world war. Generations of Jewish Australians have contributed to medicine, science, business, education, law, philanthropy, the arts, and public life.
They have invested in Australia, served Australia and embraced its values.
How can a country that Jewish Australians helped build and defend accept that their grandchildren need armed protection simply to attend school or synagogue?
We have never asked for special treatment. We ask for the security every Australian should expect.
Condemnation is not the same as action
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese initially resisted calls for a federal royal Commission into Bondi, announcing one only after sustained pressure from victims’ families, Jewish leaders, and other prominent Australians.
Why should grieving families have had to fight for such an inquiry?
A government’s first responsibility is the safety of its citizens. Yet many Jewish Australians are left wondering whether political considerations have too often taken precedence over confronting antisemitism.
The problem extends beyond security arrangements.
Some leading Islamic organisations condemned the Bondi massacre. But what do those condemnations mean if reports of antisemitic preaching continue to emerge and those responsible are not effectively challenged?
Words of sympathy cannot substitute for confronting hatred within institutions.
Consider the sermons that were found by the Federal Court to have breached Australia’s racial discrimination laws.
In one, a religious passage was quoted describing Jews hiding behind trees and stones, ending with the words: ‘There is a Yahudi [Jew] behind me, come and kill him.’
Why did it fall to a Jewish community organisation to pursue legal action over such rhetoric? Why weren’t the relevant concerns addressed more effectively by the authorities?
It is a demand that extremist preaching be confronted consistently, regardless of where it occurs.
Then there is the question of taxpayer-funded ‘social cohesion’.
Substantial public grants have attracted scrutiny over allegations involving some recipient organisations and antisemitic rhetoric. Those allegations must be assessed fairly, but the government should be able to explain what safeguards govern the funding and what outcomes taxpayers are buying.
Where is the social cohesion when Jewish Australians increasingly feel unsafe in their own country?
Social cohesion cannot be measured by the size of a grant or the warmth of a press release. It must be demonstrated in conduct.
The danger of becoming accustomed to hatred
Many non-Jewish Australians responded to Bondi with extraordinary compassion. Their solidarity matters deeply.
But where was the same widespread outrage when synagogues were attacked, schools vandalised, and Jewish students intimidated?
There is a difference between mourning Jews after they have been murdered and defending their right to live without fear.
Peaceful protest, including criticism of Israel, is a democratic right. Antisemitic intimidation, glorification of terrorism, and threats of violence are another matter.
This is no longer simply a debate about Israel or Gaza. It is about the principles Australia claims to uphold: freedom of religion, equality before the law, and the right to live without intimidation.
It begins with the Jews, but it never ends with the Jews.
The Holocaust did not begin with gas chambers. It began with propaganda, exclusion, boycotts, and discriminatory laws before escalating into genocide.
Australia is not Nazi Germany. But history should have taught us the danger of becoming accustomed to antisemitism.
Will the Royal Commission deliver accountability?
The Royal Commission’s final report is expected in December. Its recommendations may strengthen intelligence, policing, and security.
But those improvements alone will not answer the questions raised by Bondi.
Will the inquiry examine political decisions, failures of enforcement and the institutional responses to antisemitism before the massacre?
Will it scrutinise government funding decisions and the response to extremist preaching?
Will senior political leaders face meaningful accountability where failures are established?
And will unlawful incitement be met with consequences?
A Royal Commission cannot impose criminal penalties. It can, however, expose failures, recommend reforms and refer evidence to the appropriate authorities.
The lessons of Bondi will not have been learned simply because another report is published. They will have been learned when warnings are acted upon, existing laws are enforced, public funding is properly scrutinised and Jewish Australians can live without extraordinary fear.
My grandfather believed Australia would protect his descendants from the hatred he experienced in Poland.
I want to believe in that Australia too.
I am thankful he never witnessed Bondi. But I know what he would tell me: stand tall, remain kind, never allow anyone to make you feel second class and always be a proud Jew.
That is why I write, speak publicly and advocate.
Because ‘Never Again’ cannot simply be something we say after Jews have been murdered. It must be something we defend while they are still alive.
The post What happened to the Australia my grandfather believed in? appeared first on The Spectator Australia.