The Sydney Jewish Report | February 2026

School days

moriah college

Moriah College is a hive of learning, with the school bringing out the best in students.

FREE VOL. 114 Tuesday, 19 November 2024 / 18 Cheshvan 5785

FREE VOL. 128 Tuesday, 10 February 2026 / 23 Sh'vat 5786

CONSIDERED OPINION

ANNE-MARIE ELIAS

Following the Bondi massacre the foundation of feeling safe in Australia was shattered.

Notwithstanding the drastic rise of antisemitism since October 7, it was the tragic events at Bondi that shook Australia to its core.

Jewish American psychologist Abraham Maslow highlighted the importance of safety when he developed the hierarchy of needs in 1943. He spoke about “the need for security and protection from physical and emotional harm”.

The Macquarie Dictionary defines safety as: “the state of being protected from danger, harm or risk, encompassing physical well-being, security and freedom from hazards.”

Psychological safety encompasses various phases and components that contribute to a safe and supportive environment.

Let’s explore some of the different types of safety that are vital to our well-being in general and our mental health in particular.

We need to feel safe physically. We need to ensure that any environment we enter is safe. What this entails is the assurance that we are protected from physical harm from other people, per-

The need to feel safe

sonal actions and accidents. Awareness and planning are key element of physical safety.

It is why, for example, we lock our doors at home, are aware of our surroundings and who is in our immediate vicinity.

We need to consider how our body responds in the environments we enter as this is our inherent warning sign of danger. While one person may feel safe in a particular environment another may not. Therefore, listen to your fight/flight response and act accordingly.

We need to emotional safety. This is a basic human need and an essential building block for all healthy relation-

Magicians

ships. Emotional safety is the visceral feeling of being accepted and embraced for who you are and what you feel and need.

If you are chronically feeling emotionally unsafe, this results in intense psychological distress, increased isolation and greater difficulty reaching out and connecting with those that could provide an emotional safe haven.

When you feel emotionally safe with someone, your heart rate goes down and can even synchronise with the other person’s. Perspiration, a sign of  stress, is also reduced. The muscles in your body

relax. You are also more likely to express your thoughts and feelings, both positive and negative.

Financial safety is another imperative. What strategies protect us from unexpected hardships and ensure stability and security in our financial lives? Consider what safeguards you have in place or need to put in place to maintain your safety.

So, when it comes to safety, the most difficult considerations are:

1. Trusting one’s own instinct when you are feeling unsafe. If your body is showing signs of anxiety and stress, then listen to those early warning signs. If the signs are ignored and/or acted upon later (rather than sooner), you may have placed yourself in unnecessary danger.

2. Asking for help. People often mistakenly believe they need to be completely self-reliant and find it hard to seek assistance. In truth, reach out the earlier the better to facilitate a positive outcome.

Dutch American psychiatrist Bessel Van Der Kolk, who wrote The Body Keeps Score, advises that “being able to feel safe with people is probably the single most important aspect of mental health.” He goes onto say that “safe connections are fundamental to meaningful and satisfying lives”.

Anne-Marie Elias is a psychologist in clinical practice for 25 years.

20. Who renamed Judea Syria Palaestina?

21. "Monsters" follower

22. He built a notable 33-Down

23. Sleeveless knit garment

27. Like the mentalists in this puzzle, but not the magicians

29. Org. the living men in this puzzle might perform for

30. Double ___ (Oreo product)

33. See 22-Down

34. Some bread

36. Anti-hate org.

38. Charlemagne's realm, for short

39. "...like ___ not!"

42. Simon Wiesenthal and Simone Weil?

43. "Finished!"

44. Prepared, as some tuna

46. "Black-ish" star Ellis Ross

49. Untainted environments

51. New Zealanders

52. Lechem ___

55. NBA player Anthony Davis's nickname, with the"

56. Chaim

57. Kosher animals native to North America

60. [Bzzt!]

61. Call ___ night (end the Seder)

62. Onyx or opal

THE COMMUNITY

BY MICHELLE FALK MARKETING MANAGER COA AROUND

In the aftermath of the Bondi attacks, the questions that echoed through our community were immediate and instinctive: How can we help? What can we do?

For Jews, the answer is ancient and simple – we bring food. In moments of shock and grief, a meal means one less decision to make, one less burden to carry. It is comfort, dignity and care.

Within 24 hours of the attack, COA, the Centre of Activity, made the decision to become the central hub for coordinating meals. With the support of JCA, and working alongside the Rabbinical Council of NSW, Our Big Kitchen, Jewish House, JewishCare, kosher caterers and countless individuals, COA became responsible for ensuring meals reached families directly impacted. I delivered the first meal myself.

Respect and a fresh kosher meal in the wake of tragedy

people didn’t have to translate their trauma. No photos, no publicity, just care.

Months earlier, I had interviewed Marika Pogany, a COA volunteer of 32 years, who said, “It gives me enormous pleasure to give people food and help them stay in their homes.” We honoured that spirit. One family, facing the worst possible outcome, asked us to give their meals to someone else who needed them more.

In the first five weeks, more than 5,000 meals were delivered through COA, alongside our regular services to seniors. None of this was possible without COA staff, extraordinary volunteers, dedicated caterers and JCA’s instant support.

The family was frozen in shock. I respectfully, so families didn’t have with her injured child and there was no

I believe that in times of trauma, giving becomes a form of healing. I feel privileged that I was able to help. I will

CONSIDERED OPINION

DR DVIR ABRAMOVICH

Nearly two months have passed and the pain still clings like a shadow that refuses to lift, a sorrow that coils tighter in the chest with every breath. When they gathered on Bondi that warm summer evening, they were not distant figures in a tragedy yet to unfold.

They came for a celebration, for connection, for the simple miracle of being together under an Australian sky. They were simply people – pulses quick with joy, souls open to the night, trusting in the gentle rhythm of Australian life. That trust is what was murdered first.

Fifteen people were slaughtered at Bondi on December 14 while celebrating Chanukah. Not killed. Slaughtered. I am done with polite language. Polite language is how we bury the dead twice, once in the ground and once in euphemism.

One of them was 10-year-old Matilda. Ten. An age meant for scraped knees and unfinished sentences. A child who should have outgrown her shoes, not her life.

Picture her standing on that beach as the sun dipped low and the candles flickered against the evening breeze. The simple, precious wonder of being a child, free, unguarded, wrapped in the promise that this country would always keep her safe.

The killers looked at her, a radiant, living miracle and saw a target.

They looked at a gathering of love and light and brought death to it. They looked at Holocaust survivors, rabbis, parents, grandparents, sons and daughters, and in that cold, merciless instant, they sentenced them to oblivion. Every victim who bled on that beach carried a world that vanished instantly: a voice that will never interrupt dinner again, a chair that will stay empty long after the flowers wither, a tomorrow erased so quickly we barely had time to say its name.

Australia now feels like a house many of us have lived in all our lives, where the walls are still standing, the windows still open, but certain rooms have changed shape while we were asleep. You can still walk through it. You just do it differently now. More carefully. More hesitantly

That shift has hardened into a question Jewish Australians never wanted to ask out loud: Do we still belong here? Not as visitors. Not as tolerated guests on good days. But as full, equal citizens, able to stand in public as proud Jews without calculation.

I used to believe the answer was obvious. I believed Australia had learned something permanent from history. That cruel vilification, incitement to violence, dehumanisation and vicious bigotry must be met head-on, early, firmly, before it leads to carnage. Bondi shattered that faith.

British novelist and screenwriter Ian McEwan wrote something after September 11 that has never left me. He described the phone calls from the towers, of husbands calling wives, parents calling children, and strangers calling anyone who would answer. In

The Bondi massacre: the day our idea of Australia died

those final moments, with death seconds away, what did they say?

Only love. That is what the victims carried in their last moments. Not ideology. Not politics. Love. For the people they would never see again. For the lives they would never finish living. For the ordinary future that was about to be obliterated.

The father and son could not acknowledge or imagine this. That is their monstrosity. Their evil made them incapable of understanding that every person they murdered was the centre of someone’s universe. That is what antisemitism does.

But Australians can imagine it. They must imagine it. Because if they refuse, if they let the slain become statistics, abstractions, last year’s news, they become accomplices to the forgetting.

Two months out, the cameras have moved on. The nation has returned to its regular business, as nations do, because horror is exhausting and normalcy is seductive.

This is how it always goes. The vigils. The speeches. The flowers piled high. And then, slowly, the dead sink into memory. It makes me want to scream until my throat burns raw.

What terrorism does, that bullets alone cannot do, is that it defiles places. Before December 14, Bondi was a beach built for ease. For bare feet. For salt on skin. A stretch of sand where people gathered without fear. Where couples came to swim, picnic and watch the dusk settle. Where life unfolded in the open, unremarkable and free.

Now Bondi is a crime scene. Now it carries an oppressive weight that will never fully lift. Jews know this violation intimately. We know what it is to return to a place that was once secure and find it transformed. To walk streets we have walked a thousand times and feel our skin prickle. This is not paranoia. This is the

tax that terror imposes on the living. I am Jewish. I am Australian. And I am angrier than I have ever been in my life. Not just at the killers. Killers are easy to revile. I am angry at the years of tolerance that preceded them. The rallies where “From the River to Sea” and “Globalise the Intifada” were chanted and the police watched. The universities where students were threatened and intimidated. The society that treated antisemitism as an awkward topic, rather than as a sickness that must be named and fought.

I am angry at politicians who knew what was growing and did nothing. At the institutions that enabled this societal disease to spiral out of control. At everyone who saw the building on fire and decided it was someone else’s problem.

This stain should keep our elected leaders awake at night. It should make them ashamed of every moment of complacency, every shrug, every time they decided that antisemitism, antiZionism, anti-Israelism should be given a pass, a cover.

A Royal Commission has been announced. Hate laws have been passed. Politicians have spoken with appropriate gravity. The machinery of response is grinding forward.

Fine. Necessary. Not enough.

Royal Commissions are what countries do when they have been asking the wrong questions for too long. They are an admission that the system failed. Not dramatically, not with alarms and warnings, but through neglect and moral blindness.

Bondi was not an aberration.

It was a warning about what happens when moral clarity is avoided or postponed for the sake of comfort or political gain. Australia did not open its eyes to antisemitism and Islamic extremism on that fateful December 14. It had been living beside it for

years. The cries of alarm rose again and again – sharp, desperate, impossible to ignore. They were noted. They were managed.

Managed. There’s a word that should be scrapped from the language. Managed means nobody took responsibility. Managed means the file got passed from desk to desk until it disappeared. Managed means 15 people are dead because a real confrontation with the disease of radicalisation felt like too much trouble.

This inquiry must tear open the full record of what was indulged, minimised and waved through while danger thickened. It must drag hidden failures into daylight and trace the path of how antisemitism was normalised until it became permissible in the mind of some to pull a trigger. This cannot be a report that sits on a shelf. Findings without force are paperwork, not justice.

And yet, if history teaches us anything, it is that the Jewish people have survived empires that ground nations to dust. We emerged from Nazi death camps designed to end us and built new lives. We have said Kaddish more times than history should require. Yet, we are still here, still praying, raising children, welcoming Shabbat as we always have. We will not cower. We will not disappear. We will not make ourselves small to make anyone comfortable. We will speak. We will demand. We will stand in public, visibly, unapologetically, for as long as it takes and speak truths that sting.

Australia now stands at a crossroads. The headlines have turned away, chasing new storms while this one fades from view. What remains is the question of whether we will ever truly feel safe again in the place we still call home.

And I ask myself whether the blood spilled at Bondi will actually change anything in this country, or whether it will be absorbed into history the way every other Jewish massacre has been absorbed – mourned briefly, explained away, forgotten. I don’t know the answer, but the signs so far are frightening.

The machinery that fed this venom and that makes the next act of violence possible has not shut down. Jews, Zionists and anyone who dares express connection to Israel is still being branded a genocidal baby killer and a war criminal. Bondi did not interrupt that language. And when words like these are allowed to circulate without consequence, they do not remain words. They become the spark that ignites the next horror, the poison that seeps into the soul until firing a shot at a Jewish person feels like justice.

But I know this. The measure of Australia is not what it says at memorial services. It’s what it is willing to do before the next Jewish names are spoken over coffins.

Dr Dvir Abramovich is chair of the AntiDefamation Commission and the author of eight books.

AROUND THE COMMUNITY

Ron Dermer, the former Minister of Strategic Affairs of Israel, and one of the most influential figures in shaping Israel/ U.S. relations, will headline the 2026 UIA Gala events in Sydney, Melbourne and Perth.

Over the past two decades, Dermer has served the State of Israel in various professional capacities. After October 7, he was tasked with formulating a “Day After” plan for Gaza. In February 2025, Dermer was charged with heading Israel’s hostage negotiating team.

Widely regarded as a trusted conduit between the Israeli Government and multiple U.S. administrations, Dermer has been at the centre of some of the most consequential strategic decisions in recent years. He was in the room with President Donald Trump during critical post-war planning discussions and played a pivotal role in advancing the Abraham Accords, reshaping Israel’s diplomatic landscape and deepening regional alliances.

The 2026 UIA Campaign focuses on a significant mission: rebuilding our homeland. The needs facing Israel today extend far beyond physical reconstruction. Rebuilding means national rehabilitation, supporting Israelis at every stage of life, from newborns to the elderly, and strengthening mentalhealth services, community resilience, welfare support, rehabilitation programs,

Major drawcard named for 2026 UIA Gala events

and absorption services across the country, from north to south.

In 1920, Keren Hayesod-UIA helped build a nation that did not yet exist; in 1973 and 2023, it helped Israel endure her darkest moments. In 2026, when Israel again needs help, Keren HayesodUIA remains fully committed.

Dermer’s deep experience in strategy, diplomacy and global Jewish affairs brings with it unprecedented insights. His participation in UIA Gala events

underscores the significance of this moment, a period that demands clarity, courage and unwavering commitment to the People of Israel.

Joining Dermer will be Michal Uziyahu, Mayor of the Eshkol Regional Council. Michal is no stranger to UIA. UIA Australia provided urgent support for her devastated communities post October 7, enabling critical rehabilitation and community resilience programs on the ground. Michal returns to share firsthand

how Australian support helped her region start to heal and why the rest of Israel now needs that same unwavering commitment, as the nation enters its long-term rebuilding phase.

UIA Australia president Andrew Boyarsky said, “For 105 years, our community has stood by Israel in moments of hope and heartbreak. Today, as Israel enters a long and difficult period of rebuilding, our responsibility is clear. We must come together in action – united, unwavering and committed –to help rebuild her future. UIA was there at the beginning and we will be there now. For life.”

The emergency needs of Israel might be over, but the long-term work of rebuilding our homeland has just begun. These Gala events will raise much needed and urgent funds to start the rebuild. Your financial support is vital to Israel’s future.

Bookings are open. Visit uiaaustralia. org.au to secure your ticket. Please be aware that these events will sell out, so act now.

NSW – Sunday 22 February

VIC – Wednesday 25 February

WA – Thursday 26 February

Follow UIA on Facebook and Instagram (@uiaaus) to stay up to date on 2026 Campaign events.

JEWISH GEOGRAPHY SPELLING BEE

Israel Appeal

How many common words of five or more letters can you spell using the letters in the hive? Every answer must use the centre letter at least once. Letters may be reused in a word. At least one word will use all seven letters and be a location with a direct Jewish connection.

Proper names, other than the Jewish location, and hyphenated words are not allowed.

Score one point for each answer and three points for the Jewish location that uses all seven letters.

Rating: 12 = Good; 16 = Excellent; 20 = Genius

Yoni Glatt has published more than 1,000 crossword puzzles worldwide, from the LA Times and Boston Globe to The Jerusalem Post. He has also published two Jewish puzzle books: "Kosher Crosswords" and the sequel "More Kosher Crosswords and Word Games".

ANSWERS PAGE 21

DAVID SCHULBERG CONSIDERED OPINION

Peter Wertheim AM has been involved with the Executive Council of Australian Jewry (ECAJ) for nearly 30 years and is currently its co-CEO.

David

While the Parliament was shaping up to consider new anti-hate legislation, you exhorted the Liberal Party leader Sussan Ley not to allow the perfect to be the enemy of the good on the draft laws, saying the bill would offer urgent new protections, including new powers that are being introduced for the legal designation of hate groups. How do you feel about the outcome of the parliamentary measures, given that key legislation to tackle hate speech was put aside?

Peter

Yes, that statement about the perfect not being allowed to be the enemy of the good was directed at the proposed new offence of intentional promotion of hatred of people on the basis of their race.

The way that offence had been drafted had a big gap in it. There was a big hole for religious exemptions for quoting or referring to religious texts.

We had openly criticised that loophole. Nonetheless, we thought that having an offence there – even with that loophole – would be better than having no offence at all along those lines.

Because it still would have captured egregious antisemitic speech that didn’t fall within that loophole. And there would have been quite a lot of that. So, we said don’t let perfect be the enemy of the good. And on that basis, we sought to urge the Coalition to support that offence. They didn’t in the end.

We haven’t legislated the offence of the intentional promotion of racial hatred. That was disappointing, but not as grievous a loss as it might have been, because with that exemption in it, it wasn’t perfect by any means. What we’ve lost is something but not perhaps as great as it might have been.

That’s the negative part of the whole package. The positive part is the other 75 per cent that got through, including the new listing regime for prohibited hate organisations. And that definitely is an innovation, which we have been recommending and urging on government for a long time. I traced it back to 2021, when we first did a written submission to a parliamentary inquiry and made that recommendation.

It’s good to see it was taken up eventually, even though, sadly, too late to save the 15 innocent lives of Bondi and all the other tsuris that our community has been going through for the last two years. It’s sad that it’s taken such serious events as that to achieve some progress.

It was on our agenda. There’s a record of it. It goes back quite some years, as with many other things that the ECAJ has recommended for a long time and which eventually become government policy or are enacted into legislation.

Anti-hate legislation

It’s better late than never, although it would have been nice to see it earlier.

David

There were other limitations, though, in this legislation. You mentioned the one about the religious text. I’ve also heard that there were exemptions for the public sector that were included in the provisions that were up for consideration; anybody who was a teacher was potentially going to be exempt from any of the legal provisions.

Peter

Look, I don’t think it’s as black and white as that. Whatever the situation would have been, a prosecutor would have had to prove an intention to promote hatred of other people on the basis of their skin colour, nationality or ethnic origin. The Jewish people are covered.

Within that general rubric, there’s a lot of case law that establishes that the Jewish community and the Jewish people have a common ethnic origin and we’re not just a faith community. That’s a very important concept for people to understand.

Proving an intention – to promote hatred on that basis – is a very high bar, because it’s not just something you can infer from circumstances or even the words used necessarily.

The intention has to be proven beyond reasonable doubt, or would have had to be proved beyond reasonable doubt if the offence had been enacted, and that is the highest evidence standard known to the law. It is a very high bar to cross. It would have been a difficult thing to establish, even in the best of circumstances, so that people who were arguing that this was going to be a constraint on free speech and so on were ignoring the record of prosecutorial reluctance in the whole range of cases.

In the public sector, I think it would have been especially difficult to prove it because the presumption would have been that somebody acting in that space would not have been acting with an intention to promote racial hatred. It would have taken a very high evidentiary standard to get over that hurdle.

David

The other ream of arguments came from people like the Australian Human Rights Commission. Their president, Hugh de Kretser, said that only allowing three days to examine the bill was insufficient because the issues were so complex. If they were rushed, the risk was that you would get unintended consequences or the law would not be as effective as it should be in achieving the aim of promoting safety and addressing hate speech. Gemma Caffarelli from Liberty Victoria also said there had not been enough time to consult with and inform the wider public. There was a strong possibility with this rush to get legislation through that there were going to be potential consequences that could lead to a very messy situation down the line. Although the Prime Minister wants to park this while he’s in office, I think there is still some feeling or wish to revisit these laws and do it properly.

Peter

What they didn’t tell you is that it’s not a new issue of public policy or a new area of the law. It has been debated in one form or another for quite a number of years. The current federal government actually made a commitment at the beginning of 2024 to introduce such laws and there’s been a debate about what they would look like and even a parliamentary inquiry that looked at the new hate law provisions that were introduced in 2024 and the absence of a racial vilification offence in the

package that came forward in 2024. It’s not as though the Australian public and stakeholders were hit with this issue out of the blue, all of a sudden, never having even thought about it before. This has been something that people have been thinking about for a long time. Exposure drafts have been put forward from time to time to various stakeholders. They say it was brought on too quickly. How much extra time did they need? Some people were talking in terms of an extra year. What happens if G-d forbid there’s another shocking incident in that time? Is the government going to just sit on its hands while all that’s pending? The government did act with urgency; it was right to act with urgency. Whether it should have allowed maybe an extra week or two, that’s debatable. It had to be dealt with quickly. It was not a new area of the law. And the most important thing also is that there is now a provision in the legislation and it will be reviewed automatically within the next two years. We can then look back, instead of just speculating about what the effect of the legislation will be. We’ll be able to look back in two years’ time and see what the actual record is. Has it really been a fetter on free speech or freedom of religion? Has it really resulted in a flood of prosecutions? The answer to all those questions will be no. If anything, there’ll be underperformance. That’s based on the record of hate speech legislation in the past and the absence of prosecutions. That’s the better way to deal with it.

This is a slightly modified extract from an extensive interview with Peter Wertheim AO, who was interviewed by David Schulberg on ‘The Israel Connexion’ program on J-AIR community radio. The full interview is available as a podcast on the J-AIR website. David can be heard weekly on J-AIR in Melbourne and on 2TripleO in Sydney.

COMMUNITY

A delegation of more than 40 educators from Australia and South Africa recently returned from Israel after participating in a ten-day KKLJNF Educators’ Tour. It was immersive experience designed to enhance educational leadership and deepen connections to Israel.

Organized by KKL-JNF’s Education and Community division, the seminar brought together Jewish and nonJewish educators, including primary and secondary teachers, school leaders and lifelong learners.

The program combined professional development with direct engagement, exploring Israel’s social, historical, environmental and security realities through an educational lens.

Israel became a living classroom. The itinerary included site visits, education sessions and volunteer activities across the country.

Participants visited kibbutzim, cooked for IDF soldiers, explored historical and archaeological sites, and engaged with JNF-supported projects shaping Israel’s future.

Planting roots for the future

Method:

Peel and slice thinly the granny smith apples.

Place them in two 9 x 9 inch baking dishes, or one 9 x 13 inch baking dish. Mix all other ingredients in a bowl. When combined, pour over apples in the baking dish.

Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar.

Bake at 180 degrees Celsius for 50-55 minutes until the edges are golden brown.

A significant focus of the tour centred on the events of October 7.

Educators travelled to Sderot and Kibbutz Kfar Aza, and visited the Nova Festival memorial near Re’im. These deeply moving encounters brought participants face-to-face with

affected communities, highlighting powerful stories of resilience, recovery and rebuilding. The true legacy of this seminar goes beyond the journey itself. Collectively, the educators involved reach tens of thousands of students each year. The learning,

connections and renewed sense of purpose they carried home will ripple through classrooms and communities.

To learn more about JNF Australia Tours, visit https://jnf.org.au/tours/ or call 1300 563 563.

CONSIDERED OPINION

For 843 days, 12 hours, five minutes and 59 seconds, a digital clock in Tel Aviv’s Hostages Square counted how long Israeli hostages were held in Gaza. It ticked relentlessly, marking every stolen second. When it finally stopped on 27th January 2026, it left behind a simple fact: more than two years in which Israelis –and Jews around the world – lived with the knowledge that members of their extended family were missing.

Humans are not good at noticing time while we are inside it. We stretch it, compress it, kill it. We distract ourselves from it. The hostage clock would not allow that. It stripped time of metaphor and forced it into view as something intimate and finite. Every additional day was another unit taken from men, women and children who could not spend it themselves.

There is a well-worn Buddhist line – “the trouble is, you think you have time” – that usually lands as a gentle prompt. In Hostages Square it landed as a rebuke. For the captives, time was not squandered; it was stolen. For everyone watching, the clock posed an unspoken parallel question: what were we doing with the same stretch of days?

One striking feature of this period, often hard to explain to non-Jews,

We counted the moments

was the way Israelis spoke about the hostages as “ours”. Not as a cause or a campaign, but as family. “Our children.”

“Our elderly.” “Our brothers and sisters.”

This was not rhetorical flourish. It reflected an ingrained Jewish ethic that collapses distance between strangers and insists on shared responsibility.

In Israel, with its small population and overlapping social circles, this closeness is almost literal.

If you did not know a hostage personally, you likely knew someone who did.

What surprised many was how closely this sense of kinship was echoed in the diaspora, including right here in Australia. Australian Jews followed the hostage clock from Melbourne, Sydney and further afield.

We are a culture that prefers understatement and emotional tidiness.

From Abu Gosh to Abu Dhabi

Every time I go to Israel, I end up in Abu Gosh, an Arab village just outside Jerusalem, famous for its hummus and for drawing Jewish diners from across the country. I never plan it. I just somehow find myself back there, sitting in one of those big, noisy restaurants where the tables are packed, the Arab waiters move at an almost impossible speed and the hummus arrives warm in wide, shallow plates.

There’s the glossy swirl of olive oil, a small mound of chickpeas in the middle, and pita that’s still warm from the oven. It’s not fancy or curated. It’s just easy. This is what I’ve driven all the way from Tel Aviv for and it’s the same every time. What I always notice, though, is how unremarkable it feels and I mean that in the best possible way.

Arabic drifts out from the kitchen, Hebrew from the tables. No one behaves as if they’re making a statement. People are just eating. As a Jewish woman sitting comfortably in an Arab village, I don’t feel like a guest in enemy territory; I feel like a regular.

There’s a quiet confidence to the place: we know who we are, you know who you are and there’s room at the table for everyone – and for another bowl of hummus.

One afternoon, dipping warm pita into hummus that genuinely deserved its reputation, it hit me: Abu Gosh is proof – very ordinary, physical proof –that Jewish comfort and Arab space can coexist without drama. Nothing symbolic. Nothing forced. Just lunch. Once I saw it that way, a bigger question followed me home: if a village can manage this over a meal, can a country do something similar on a much bigger stage? That question kept pulling my thoughts back to the United Arab Emirates. On a hot night in Dubai now, you really can see Israeli families

Yet for 843 days, many Australian Jews checked updates compulsively, learned names and found themselves emotionally attached to people they had never met. Photos appeared on synagogue walls and kitchen fridges. Special prayers were added. Office conversations became strained, then unavoidable.

This closeness was not merely sentimental. Israelis filled Hostages Square week after week, demanding action.

In Australia, people wrote to MPs, attended vigils, donated, explained and re-explained why the faces on posters outside cafés mattered. The old line –wherever we live, we are one people –shifted from slogan to lived experience.

The number on the clock mattered. It measured endurance without collapse.

Each day held birthdays, festivals and funerals – all lived with an empty chair.

Jewish tradition treats time as moral substance: each moment singular, unrecoverable.

What was stolen in Gaza was not only freedom, but unrepeatable moments that will never be returned.

Now the clock has stopped, but that does not mean the work has.

Remembering names, supporting survivors, resisting indifference when attention drifts – these are not optional extras and never have been.

wandering through shopping centres the way they wander down Dizengoff Street: kids in shorts, parents in sandals, Hebrew blending into the background noise of English and Arabic. It’s not a peace conference – it’s just people deciding where to eat or which shop to try next.

None of this fell out of the sky. In 2020, the UAE and Israel signed the Abraham Accords, a United Statesbrokered agreement that normalised relations and opened the door to embassies, direct flights, tourism and trade. I don’t think the UAE suddenly fell in love with

Israel and I don’t think Israel discovered some deep cultural bond with the Gulf. It looks more pragmatic than that. Israel brings technology, security expertise, water and agtech, medical innovation; the UAE brings capital, logistics and a global business platform. Both value stability. Both worry about some of the same neighbours.

Still, the effect on everyday Jewish life there is real. Jewish prayer in Dubai used to happen quietly, behind closed doors, in private spaces. Now there are synagogues people talk about, kosher restaurants and caterers you can find online and Jewish holidays that appear in Emirati social media feeds, as part of the country’s public face.

None of this is pure or simple. Old conflicts don’t vanish because a new flight route opens. The Palestinian issue hasn’t evaporated. Tensions and contradictions sit side by side. But when I think about that hummus table in Abu Gosh and compare it with the sight of a kippah in a Dubai hotel lobby or a kosher sign in a Dubai mall, I see the same stubborn idea at work: you can be visibly Jewish in an Arab place and not immediately brace for impact.

That’s why this AbuGoshtoAbuDhabi arc makes me quietly hopeful. Neither place is utopia. Neither solves the conflict. But both show that normal, repeatable interactions between Jews and Arabs are possible – and can even become boring.

And boring, in this context, is exactly what we might dare to wish for.

EDUCATION FEATURE

Unity is strength

MIRA HASOFER PRINCIPAL MORIAH COLLEGE

As we have just returned for a new school year, we acknowledge and share the vulnerability our community is feeling. There is a heaviness in the air, a sense that, again, we are being asked to steady ourselves.

For many in our community, the past six years have been relentlessly challenging. COVID-19 disrupted our sense of normality and connection. October 7 shook us to our core as Jews and as Australians.

And now, the tragic events at Bondi, unfolding on the first night of Chanukah, have again left us grieving and deeply unsettled. It feels as though the ground keeps shifting beneath us, just as we are trying to find our footing.

So, the question we are sitting with –how do we hold all of this and still plan for the year ahead? – is not an easy one with which to contend.

The answer, for us, starts with recognition. We acknowledge what has happened.

We name the fear and the unease. We make space to share stories, to listen, to commemorate and to speak honestly –with our children and with one another –about the impact of what we have lived through.

At the same time, part of healing is the work of moving through: finding the inner strength to normalise where we can. Re-establishing routines. Returning to learning, relationships and purpose, because life and responsibility continue to call us forward. This is resilience.

At Moriah, we draw that resilience from the values and faith that shape who we are. We lean into these moments, rather than step around them. Our commitment to learning, responsibility

Israel study tour

For decades, the Israel study tour has been a defining experience for students at Moriah College. This year, the tour’s return carries particular weight. That meaning is captured most powerfully in the students’ own words.

For those who began in Poland, the weight of the past was immediately felt.

“As we made our way down the long gravel path at Auschwitz Birkenau, the infamous gates finally came into view. These were the gates through which 1.1 million Jewish people were driven to their deaths.” Israeli flags quietly appeared in students’ hands.

Inside the camp, the scale of loss became painfully intimate.

“Mountains of shoes, piles of human hair, suitcases marked with names and countless personal belongings.” Standing in the women’s sleeping quarters, “the bunks were as hard as stone … a space roughly the size of a small Sydney apartment once held around 500 women at a time.” At the ruins of the gas chambers and crematoria, “seeing the remains firsthand made clear the cruelty of the Nazis, who tried to hide their crimes as they were losing the war.”

When the group left Birkenau, they came together.

“Forming a circle, arms linked, we sang Acheinu … The Nazis had not won. We are still here.”

and action – Lilmod, Lishmor, Vela’asot – guides how we respond, reminding us that when things feel unsettled, care, consistency and gentle structure help restore a sense of safety.

Thankfully, we are not doing this work alone. We have been working with community leaders and with experts locally and from Israel to support our students, staff and families, recognising that trauma affects each person differently and that healing is not

linear. Our wellbeing and psychology teams continue to work thoughtfully and deliberately, ensuring that care is available, while allowing space and time for recovery.

We also turn to spirituality and religious practice for grounding. Prayer is central in helping us hold grief and hope at the same time.

On our first Shabbat back in the school year, all students brought candles from home, and we invited our entire school community to light them together before Shabbat.

In that shared moment, we asked that families held in their thoughts and prayers those that lost their lives, those that are recovering and all who are feeling shaken.

Coming so soon after Chanukah, this simple act reminded us of the enduring strength of light and the hope it brings.

We begin the school year with tenderness and resolve. We honour what has been lost, care deeply for one another and continue the essential work of education – nurturing our children, strengthening their Jewish identity and sense of belonging, and helping them grow into thoughtful, grounded and compassionate human beings.

Guided by our belief in Hashem, our values and our community, we will keep showing up – together.

From Poland, the students flew to Israel and the tone of their writing shifted from mourning to arrival.

“Stepping off the plane, excitement hung in the air. We were finally in Israel. We were finally home.” Arriving at the Kotel in the middle of the night, first-time visitors were blindfolded and guided by friends. “Taking off my blindfold, I saw the Kotel. It was breathtaking. Thousands of years of longing, praying, hoping, fighting and loving.”

Jerusalem unfolded in layers. Ancient tunnels, narrow passageways and sunlit

stone streets became shared challenge and shared joy. “It pushed us out of our comfort zone in the best way.” On Ben Yehuda Street, alive with lights and music, “we suddenly understood why everyone speaks about it with so much love.”

Later in the journey, the present pressed in. At the Nova memorial site, students confronted the events of October 7. “This was not just a story.” Each student was given the name of a victim to find and remember.

“Standing there, we felt the responsibility to remember them with dignity.”

In Sderot, learning that residents have only seconds to reach shelter left a lasting impression. “It reminded us that strength is not only physical, but emotional, communal and constant.”

Across the blog entries, a shared truth emerged. “We left feeling grateful, heartbroken and determined.”

For these students, the return of the Israel study tour is more than simply the revival of a tradition. It is a reconnection to history, to place and to purpose, carried forward in their own voices. Am Yisrael Chai.

Mazal tov

CLASS OF 2025

Shaped by integrity and a strong Jewish identity, the Class of 2025 achieved outstanding academic results built on commitment, care for one another, diligence and perseverance. With deep thanks to our dedicated teachers who supported them every step of the way.

Cooper Plaskow

ATAR 98.95

Top All-Rounder >90 in 10 or more units

84% OF RESULTS IN THE TOP TWO BANDS

15 COURSES WITH 100% OF STUDENTS ACHIEVING BAND 5/6

13 SHOWCASE NOMINATIONS (ENCORE, O n STAGE, SHAPE, CALLBACK)

5TH IN STATE

Modern Hebrew Continuers

Classical Hebrew Continuers

Classical Hebrew Extension

of

The BJE Jewish Journey

BY JOHN HAMEY CEO BJE

For Jewish families, the horrific Bondi massacre has sharpened an important question: how do we ensure our children feel safe, supported and proudly Jewish, especially when they attend non-Jewish schools?

At BJE, this question has guided our work for more than a century. Since 1909, we have partnered with families to provide Jewish learning, connection and community for students in NSW public schools and non-Jewish private schools. Today, that mission feels more relevant than ever.

The BJE Jewish Journey is our integrated pathway from Kindergarten through to Year 12. It brings together Jewish learning, Hebrew, values, social connection, engagement with Israel and meaningful milestone experiences, supporting children as they grow into confident, resilient young Jews who know they are not alone.

In NSW public schools, Special Religious Education (SRE) classes provide a welcoming weekly space where Jewish children learn about festivals, Torah stories, Jewish values and identity alongside their peers.

Beyond the classroom, Jewish Life Enrichment and Hebrew programs turn learning into lived experience through stories, songs, prayers, culture and

language that help children feel at home in Jewish life.

As students approach adolescence, Natif, BJE’s coming-of-age program, supports pre-teens to explore who they are, what they stand for and how Jewish values such as responsibility and Tikkun Olam can guide their choices.

In the teenage years, Youth Engagement programs, including camps, leadership opportunities and informal education, build strong peer networks and create spaces where teens can talk openly, question deeply

and truly belong. The journey culminates in Nesiah, a five-week Israel experience in Year 10 or 11 that brings identity, friendship and connection to the Jewish people to life.

This year, 73 students returned from the Nesiah Israel Journey. Parents described the experience as “life-changing”, “deeply meaningful” and formative in building lasting friendships and a strong connection to Israel and Jewish identity. Nesiah represents a defining milestone, where years of learning become lived experience.

Alongside these programs, BJE Hubs run on Monday and Thursday afternoons in Bondi, offering primary-aged children relaxed after-school Jewish learning and friendships.

While each program can stand alone, families consistently see the greatest impact when children experience the full journey, growing year by year in confidence, community and connection.

Looking ahead, BJE is refreshing curriculum and resources to ensure learning remains engaging, relevant and responsive to the realities young people face today. A newly appointed Lead Educator is supporting teachers across NSW, strengthening expertise and consistency.

BJE educators are more than teachers; they are Morah Derech, guides who walk alongside students with care, warmth and purpose. They would love to meet your child.

Families seeking Jewish learning and connection for their children are invited to explore where they might join the BJE Jewish Journey, through SRE, Hebrew, Natif, Hubs, Youth Engagement or Nesiah.

Enrolments are now open. Visit www. bje.org.au/enrol or call 9365 7900 to speak with our Enrolments Officer, Cyndi. Sometimes, one conversation is all it takes to begin a lifelong Jewish journey

Success and inspiration

RABBI YAACOV CHAITON PRINCIPAL KESSER TORAH COLLEGE

Kesser Torah College is proud to celebrate the outstanding achievements of its 2025 HSC cohort.

Ranked 52nd in New South Wales for HSC performance, the College also holds the distinction of being the topranked Jewish school in NSW.

School dux, Aviel Lobel achieved an exceptional ATAR of 99.1, while students secured the top eight state course positions in Classical Hebrew and Classical Hebrew Extension.

These results reflect excellence across a broad curriculum, including Modern History, Advanced and Extension Mathematics, the Sciences, Food Technology, English and Visual Arts.

Congratulations to our students and educators alike for crossing the finish line with such determination and distinction.

Yet these results are just one part of the story.

Over twelve years at KTC, students have developed not only academically, but also in character,

resilience and community spirit, exemplifying our values.

Their HSC achievements are the natural outcome of a school culture that values growth, integrity, curiosity and perseverance. Our Torah-driven school values are the foundation of our school.

They are the keys we give our students to open every door to their future, guiding them not just in exams, but in life.

The Class of 2025 exemplifies this, combining academic success with strength of character, a commitment to learning, a deep connection to their Yiddishkeit and a dedication to contributing positively to the world around them.

We are immensely proud to see so many of our graduates continue their Jewish learning at yeshiva and seminary, a true reflection of their celebrated Jewish identity and depth of knowledge.

We are equally inspired by the thoughtful career paths and tertiary studies they pursue thereafter.

Educational excellence: nurturing achievement in learning

At Emanuel School, excellence is not defined by a single measure. It is cultivated through an approach that encourages every student to grow academically, socially and spiritually. This is at the heart of our strategic plan: that Emanuel students achieve excellence in their learning through a culture of high expectations and personal growth, balanced with engagement in the broader opportunities that shape school life.

This philosophy is exemplified by the outstanding achievements of our 2025 HSC cohort. Alongside strong overall results and a notable percentage of students achieving ATARs above 90, Emanuel students were recognised for their accomplishments in creative and performing arts, earning nominations for ARTEXPRESS, ENCORE and OnSTAGE, and recognition for writing in both the History Extension course and through the Young Writers Showcase. Their success highlights the strength of our academic programs, as well as the creativity, resilience and curiosity encouraged through the exceptional work of our classroom teachers. Emanuel’s commitment to educational excellence

is built on a series of deliberate, evidencebased strategic imperatives. We implement programs that support the development of the whole child, ensuring that students become not only accomplished learners, but capable, compassionate young people, grounded in Jewish values.

Our focus on datainformed practice ensures that every student is known, supported and challenged. Through ongoing monitoring and

targeted interventions, we ensure learning meets students’ individual needs, whether nurturing high performance, supporting learning differences or providing enrichment across the curriculum.

This approach reflects our belief that excellence is achieved when each student is given the tools and guidance to reach their personal best.  Proactive approaches to behaviour and wellbeing are equally important

in creating a learning environment where students feel safe, valued and engaged. Our emphasis on respectful relationships and belonging enables students to participate fully in all aspects of school life, from academic study to extracurricular opportunities in sport, music, drama, leadership and service learning.

Jewish education plays a central role in shaping the wholechild experience at Emanuel. It provides students with a strong sense of identity, community and purpose. With authentic engagement in Jewish life, students develop a meaningful understanding of who they are and the values that guide them. This grounding enriches both their learning and their character, contributing to the academic and personal successes we celebrate.

Educational excellence at Emanuel is the outcome of high expectations paired with high support, rich opportunities paired with rigorous learning, and the integration of Jewish values that nurture the heart as well as the mind. Our graduates leave Emanuel equipped not only with strong academic results, but with curiosity, confidence and a lifelong commitment to making a positive impact on their world.

AB BOSKANY

The hardest part is not remembering, but being asked to tidy up what others did. Remembering the tragedy brings Jews back to the bitter question after each injustice. It stings because it is posed as a simple request for forgiveness, then padded with phrases: “Terrible events took place.” “It was all complicated.” “Everyone endured hardship.” The language blurs agency and asks the victims to supply the ending: “We forgive”, to make others comfortable.

How do you live when history keeps leaning over your shoulder? For Jews, this burden becomes vigilance, shaping life and travelling through family tales kept as guarded truths. It shows up in the reading of a crowd or a slogan, deciding whether it is ignorance or something darker.

This is daily existence: a lesson that slides past horrors, a joke rooted in prejudice. The past becomes the atmosphere to live in, essential and precise. It reaches into choices: which suburbs feel safe, how friendships become cautious and what children learn about past betrayals, such as expulsions and pogroms.

This is a survival strategy sharpened by centuries of danger, as antisemitism evolves into new forms, from private

The Holocaust’s burden of forgiveness

slurs to loud signalling. When forgiveness is pressed, it rarely states its demands; rather, it seeks closure and the smoothing away of unease. It doesn’t admit to shifting blame, but that’s exactly what happens. The load moves from those who must confront their actions to those left dealing with the consequences. The dead can’t sign off on it and the living are supposed to inherit a forced

Living two histories

Before “Kurdistan” was a political word, it was a landscape of mountain towns where Jewish life took root. They called themselves Jews. Their neighbours called them part of the place. Both were right. Kurdish, or Kurdistani Jews trace their roots back to the 8th century BCE, when Assyrians conquered the northern Kingdom of Israel and exiled people east into what is now Kurdistan, across Iraq, Turkey, Syria and Iran. Communities grew in Zakho, Amadiya and Sulaimaniya, speaking Neo-Aramaic while living among Kurds. Later empires shifted and the dispersion pushed deeper into Iranian Kurdistan, carrying exile into ordinary days.

Throughout centuries, Jews integrated into local life while keeping a Jewish identity. In many areas, Kurds protected Jewish communities through tribal alliances and the two groups coexisted for generations. Unlike in parts of Europe and under some Islamic caliphates, Jews in Kurdish regions often lived through long stretches of relative security under local and imperial rule. Kurdish Jews worked as farmers, traders and craftsmen, and in towns were among the renowned goldsmiths into the 1950s. They adopted Kurdish customs, including clothing and food, while maintaining Jewish traditions, synagogues, kosher practice, religious holidays shaped by local life and preserving the Sabbath. Life mixed the

consensus. This tactic minimises the scale of what was done, as if a brief gesture could cover it.

The pressure isn’t rough; it comes wrapped in moral language and sympathy, shown as the sign of wisdom, while holding back is treated as being stuck in the past. The one asked to forgive gets cast in a noble role: prove that we’ve “moved on and are cool”,

two worlds and music blended Aramaic songs with Kurdish rhythms.

The big shift came in the mid 20th century. Rising tensions after Israel’s establishment in 1948 led to mass migration from Iraq, driven by decisions

and make the conversation comfortable again. To refuse is to be labelled the obstacle to unity, the professional moaner. Rewards flow to those who ease the tension for everyone else. This setup exposes a stark unfairness: the forgiver is glorified for grace, yet the instigators are allowed to walk away, owing nothing.

Yet this wound spans generations: in archives, in missing families, in communities reduced to photographs. It shows where memorials stop short and names vanish, making remembrance a defence.

And yet, after the 7 October massacre and what followed, we still find ourselves having to explain the reality of the Holocaust and being pushed to “prove” the number was six million. Now? Why? Does bargaining over the count of the murdered makes the crime any less cruel?

So, “Can you forgive?” is loaded from the start and implies that the vulnerable should stand down, the narrative be tidied up, the demands of truth softened. And those on the receiving end soon realise that the forgiveness most eagerly sought is the kind that costs the one pressing for it nothing.

taken by Iraqi rulers in Baghdad, whose authority also covered Iraqi Kurdistan at the time. Operation Ezra and Nehemiah airlifted more than 120,000 Jews from Iraq to Israel between 1949 and 1952. Today, about 200,000 Jews of Iraqi origin

live in Israel, with only a few hundred remaining in Iraqi Kurdistan.

For those who stayed, life often produced an identity with two lineages, deeply Jewish, yet tied to Kurdistan. Family stories carried earlier injustices forward, not as distant history, but as something close to the skin. Many then watched Kurdish communities face displacement and violence, and some felt the pressure of that instability in their own daily lives. The result was a double weight of remembrance, linking Jewish memory to Kurdistan as a lived place rather than a symbol, where old trauma could feel newly present.

After the Ba’ath Party took power through a military coup, many Jews in Iraqi Kurdistan tried to disappear into ordinary life. Some changed their names, lowered their profiles and learned to speak less in public. In Baghdad, Jews who could no longer bear the risk began looking for routes out and some were helped by Kurdish rebels to slip north, reach Iran, and from there move on to Israel. Others did not leave. They remained in Kurdistan, kept safe less by paperwork than by habits: quieter behaviour, local clothing, careful routines and the discipline of not drawing attention. Over time, survival became a kind of identity, deeply Jewish, deeply Kurdish and lived in the narrow space between memory and caution.

For me, this is not just history. It’s the life I’ve lived and it has given me a lasting sense of displacement I’ve carried ever since.

ADVENTURES CONSIDERED OPINION

RAMONA FREEDMAN

ALIYAH

Each month since I made Aliyah over oneand-a-half years ago, I have been recounting Ramona stories about life as a new Olah, a new immigrant, here in Ra’anana. The words come easily with so many funny and fascinating cultural insights in my new homeland, “yes”, our eternal homeland.

Yet over this Australian summer, the metaphorical lens flipped and all of Israel, in fact, all of the Jewish world and beyond were looking directly at YOU: the Jewish community of Australia. Shockwaves reverberated around the world in light of the devastating massacre during the Chanukah festival at our beloved Bondi Beach.

The impact was instant.

While on brief breaks, experienced combat soldiers of the Israeli Defense Forces were shaking their heads while reviewing the footage taken, all-thewhile still in dangerous and hazardous circumstances themselves.

While they were on duty protecting the State of Israel, they openly wished they had been on site, closer to you all, to help in the moment. Strangers on the streets were stopping each other to talk about the distressing ‘matzav’, or situation, for Jews in Australia.

Local synagogues with Australian members here rallied, including my shul, Kehillat Lev Ra’anana. I was so grateful for that support.

Those from the ‘Lucky Country’ didn’t feel lucky at all.

You became Israel’s top news story – for good reason. And believe me, there is so much happening here competing for that top spot. On a personal front, I was openly devastated, as besides knowing many who were injured and affected, the young man from France who was murdered, Dan Elkayam, had been to my Australian Shabbat and Yom tov table countless times.

A few days later, with sunglasses on, I found myself in Ashdod, attending his funeral. The world’s media was present. My tears fell unchecked. As we drove back to Ra’anana afterwards, in contemplative silence, my mind sifted through all the interactions I had had with Israeli society since December 14.

The one overarching message from Israelis to Aussie Jews (if summarised) was clear: “We support you. We are with you. We are waiting for you. It is time to come home.”

Home. What an emotive word that is.

I reflected on the new world I have been creating. Speaking of my new home, a handful of days prior to the brutality at Bondi, there was an Aussie artwork put up on a large wall here, on Yehuda HaLevi Street. It is a gigantic framed image of Bondi Beach. I kid you not.

I know it has been a southern hemisphere summer like no other for Australian Jewry. Despite the tragedy, the artwork stays. And I stay here in Israel too.

I’ve lost count of the number of Aussies who have reached out to me personally to chat about life in Ra’anana, property

Tami Arba

in Ra’anana and more. Has there been an ‘uptick’ post December 14? Yes, there has.

And yet, in classic Israeli style, despite daily drama on the world Jewish stage, Israel, with all its idiosyncrasies, makes you smile. Like watching the wild weaving of crazy cars on the freeways, overhearing arguments that end in men slapping each other’s backs and then hugging it out and noticing how everyday people are so willing and ready to help anyone in need.

We also recently witnessed the country’s collective joy and relief when the final hostage, Ran Gvili, was finally returned home. Minutes later, there were thousands of ceremonial cuttings of yellow ribbons across this tiny but terrific land.

Everyone in Israel seems to wear many hats daily. I think this stems from such a large part of the population being called back into the army on reserve duty. Fruit shop owner one day, tank commander the next. My fumigator came one morning and revealed that the week before he was on duty as a paratrooper in an active unit. It genuinely seems that everyone here is a jack-of-all-trades and (despite often not having many official credentials) a master of many.

One hat I happily wear here is as a parttime English tutor. I walk into a couple of schools each week and have a front row seat to what school life is like.

Suffice to say that the checks and balances to keep children safe that we have in Australia may not be front and centre here. School pick up and drop off is a scary scene. Kids riding scooters or bikes (no helmets, usually in tandem with a smiling friend tagging on), cars reversing in

the most haphazard and heart-stopping ways. In Ra’anana, there is a marvellous mixture of mostly three languages – a melting pot of Hebrew, French and English. And the French have opened the most outstanding patisseries. Just for fun I have tapped into my high school French several times since I have been here while ordering my croissants and baguettes. Oui, I really have.

And with school finishing very early daily – we are talking at approximately 1pm –Israeli kids go to ‘chuggim’, after-school activities, that vary widely. And some are just out roaming the streets. And yet, it all somehow works.

Recently we had a ‘Tami Arba’ delivered to our home. This is a hot topic at Shabbat tables around town. The Tami Arba is known officially as an inhouse ‘water bar’, but effectively it is an automatic, rectangular water machine that is given pride of place in most Israeli kitchens. The latest iteration offers on-tap cold water, boiling water and also has a Shabbat mode. This means that those observing Shabbat who usually fill a heavy urn each Friday afternoon, no longer have to do so. This is considered remarkable and revolutionary in Israeli circles and there is a waiting list to get one installed. Apparently there is a computer within that has calculated the next two decades of Shabbat and Yom Tov times and dates. It automatically switches to this mode approximately a couple of hours prior to Shabbat commencing. The Tami Arba technician arrived at my home and we started chatting as he was installing our new Israeli bestie. He was French and had made Aliyah (very bravely) as a young

man straight after high school. He served as a lone soldier. As soon as he heard I was Australian, we began speaking about Bondi Beach. He saw my wall-sized image. He heard my accent. I heard his and before we knew it, we were speaking about dear Dan Elkayam. He hoarsely told me that he was inconsolable as he had been one of Dan’s classmates in school. I shared that Dan had been one of many young people who had spent many meals at my Aussie table. We stopped talking about the efficiency of the new Tami Arba and, instead, exchanged phone numbers so when either of us heard an update about Dan’s funeral, we could tell each other. One people. One heart.

Somehow, Israel transcends time and space. Israel unites like nowhere else. He had tears in his eyes. So did I. For Dan, for Diaspora Jews. For it all. He was a new dad but had already served over 300 days as a reservist in the IDF. What a hero.

In Ra’anana, I live in an attached house – one of a half-dozen in a semicircular shape. The night after we had our Tami Arba delivered, one of our sweet neighbours invited us all for a ‘Soulful Soup Night’. They had three pots on the boil; we schmoozed and slurped the contents down in good spirits.

I told them about my Tami Arba technician. About Dan. About my broken Australian heart. In six houses we have people hailing from Italy, Brazil, Canada, South Africa and more. I felt us sharing soup and stories that evening was a microcosm of the Jewish world. A snapshot of support that was helpful and healing.

For now, it is over and out from Ramona in Ra’anana.

OPINION

DR YVETTE ALT MILLER COURTESY: AISH.COM CONSIDERED

From “innocent” phrases to emojis and numbers, antisemitic hate is increasingly coded online. Learn how to spot these signals and how to respond effectively.

A range of innocent-sounding comments are being re-imagined as anti-Jewish memes, serving as antisemitic dog-whistles, evading sensors and spreading anti-Jewish slurs online.

Here’s a list of some seemingly benign comments that actually signify Jewhatred and a list of recommendations of what to do when you encounter them.

“The Great noticing”

Some online haters disguise their antiJewish slurs as statements that they “notice” things.

What these users allegedly “notice” is that shadowy Jews supposedly control the world. Variations of this slur include saying something is "impossible not to notice” or that “the noticing will continue.” Some users label their antisemitic comments “#TheNoticing.”

At times, “noticer” is misspelled “Nooticer” in order to evade detection online.

Antisemitic mentions of “noticing things” increased sharply over 2025. The phrase “noticing will continue” rose by 36 per cent. The phrase “the noticing” rose by 92 per cent. And use of the coded phrase "impossible not to notice” rose by a whopping 2,261 per cent in 2025 over the last eight months of 2024.

“Every single time”

This is another phrase that’s often weaponised against Jews (and at times against other ethnic groups too). It’s deployed in comments to indicate that it’s supposedly always Jews who are behind every negative story or happening that’s discussed online.

Related comments that convey a similar meaning include “well, well, well” or “what do you say three times?” This last comment allows online antisemites to provide a winking reference to “well, well, well” without alerting algorithms that are looking for hate speech.

Problematic emojis

Another way antisemitic commentators get around regulators is by substituting pictures for words that might get their comments flagged by moderators.

Emojis of juice boxes are sometimes used to indicate Jews. More sinister emojis used to refer to Jews online include snakes, pigs, rats, and octopuses, allowing commenters to evade sensors.

Emojis of the “ok” hand sign can increasingly be used to denote white power, an antisemitic neo-Nazi ideology.

Images of the popular cartoon character Pepe the Frog have been adopted by neo-Nazis as a symbol of their anti-Jewish and racist ideology.

Laughing emojis can have an antiJewish meaning, used as code for the more overtly antisemitic image of a “laughing Jew.” Images of Orthodox

How antisemitism hides online: identifying coded Jew hatred

Jewish men with large noses laughing have been used since the Middle Ages as a way to smear all Jews and imply that unscrupulous Jews somehow laugh at other people’s misfortunes. With online sensors clamping down on overt expressions of antisemitism, posting a laughing emoji can be a subtle way of referring to this odious stereotype.

Palestinian flag emojis and watermelon emojis are sometimes used as comments underneath Jewish-themed stories. The subtext seems to be that Israel and Jews have no right to exist and ought to be replaced by a Palestinian state instead.

“Totally joyful day”

While it might sound innocuous, wishing someone a “totally joyful day” is an increasingly popular way to express raw hatred and to signal to others a dangerous obsession with Jews. To the initiated, its initials TJD stand for “total Jew death”. A variation is “totally kind day”, which means “total Kike death”. Other variations can stand in for different ethnic groups, as well. Immediately after Hamas’ deadly October 7, 2023 attack on Israel, use of the phrase “totally joyful day” online spiked by 400 per cent.

“Our greatest ally”

Another way online users signal their opposition to Jews and Jewish causes is by posting the phrase “our greatest ally” in a sarcastic way. While this phrase can be used sincerely, it has emerged as an anti-Jewish comment, particularly on X.

Numbers

Online, numbers often stand in for offensive anti-Jewish phrases, allowing posters to evade online sensors and signal their hatred to fellow users.

Fourteen is sometimes used as a dogwhistle to fellow neo-Nazis: it stands for the fourteen words in the popular white supremacist slogan “we must secure the existence of our people and a future for white children”.

Eighty-eight can refer to “Heil Hitler,” as H is the eighth letter in the alphabet.

(It is often combined with the above as “1488.”) Eighteen is at times used

as a coded reference to Adolf Hitler, corresponding to the place of his initials in the alphabet.

Sometimes antisemites seek to discredit the fact that six million Jews were murdered in the Holocaust. “Six gorillas” and “six cookies” are comments used to make fun of or undermine this fact. Another common meme and/ or comment is “217k”, referring to inaccurate claims that only 217,000 Jews perished in the Holocaust, not six million.

“Deadly exchange”

Amidst protests against US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents, some activists are directing their ire against Jews, using phrases such as “deadly exchange” to mean that any instances of joint US-Israeli law enforcement training mean that Israel is controlling American policing behaviour.

Signs and graffiti have featured slogans echoing this claim, including “Free Palestine”, “Israel trains ICE” and “From (insert the name of any locale where protests are taking place) to Gaza, globalise the Intifada”. Conflating local protests with Israel spreads hatred of Jews to new audiences, radicalising them to view Israel and Jews as the root of all conflicts.

“Early life check”

This is a coded way to draw attention to someone’s Jewish identity and is increasingly used as an antisemitic or racist dog whistle. It refers to Wikipedia entries, which often describe people’s ethnicities in their “Early Life” section of biographies. Writing “early life check” is often a precursor to harassing people online for their Jewishness or other characteristics.

Use of parentheses

Some antisemites signal their hatred of Jews by placing the names of Jews in two or three sets of parentheses. This slur has its origins in a decade-old antisemitic podcast which said the names of Jews it wanted to mock in a creepy voice that echoed. Now, some online users suggest a cartoonish echo around Jewish names

by using parentheses every time they refer to a Jew.

Once identified in this way, Jewish social media users can find themselves targeted for abuse by online trolls.

Misquoting Voltaire

A popular quote shared online seeks to slander Jews who speak out against anti-Israel marches and online activity. Many antisemites share the quote: “If you want to know who controls you, look at who (sic) you are not allowed to criticise,” and attribute it to the French Enlightenment philosopher Voltaire. It is frequently employed in anti-Jewish contexts, suggesting that a shadowy group of powerful Jews is quashing legitimate criticism of them.

In reality, this quote was coined by an American neo-Nazi seeking to spread anti-Jewish hate.

In a bizarre example of the horseshoe theory of government – which holds that both far-right and far-left wing political extremists begin to resemble each other. This quote has been embraced by farleft anti-Israel activists.

Seeking Solutions: What can we do in the face of online antisemitism?

These sorts of cryptic antisemitic signals can be hard for online algorithms and content moderators to detect. Yet it’s important that we call them to account whenever we see them.

1. Don’t engage with these users.

Online users who employ the types of coded language described above aren’t going to argue with you in good faith. Engaging with them could be dangerous. Resist the temptation to jump into political conversations with extremists online.

2. Screenshot the offending posts.

Screenshot posts that use this type of antisemitic language, so that you have proof of what you saw.

3. Report offensive language to social media platforms.

Social media platforms have broad policies against hate on their sites. Reporting offensive material can aid them in taking it down and even blocking offensive users.4. Report antisemitic posts to local organisations.

Send your screenshots to organisations that document and fight antisemitism online, such as the Anti-Defamation League in the USA and the FBI, in Britain to the Community Security Trust, or to local law enforcement.

5. Discuss online slurs with your social network.

You are the best advocate for fighting antisemitism in your own social network. Speak up about offensive content with your friends and colleagues.

Let other people know why coded antisemitic slurs are problematic and teach those around you to identify them too.

CONSIDERED OPINION

NOMI KALTMANN

This has been the most difficult period of my life … and of the lives of almost every Jewish person I know in Australia. Some mornings I wake up and have to remind myself that 15 people were really murdered while celebrating Chanukah on Bondi Beach, and that this is not some awful dream that will fade once I’ve had coffee and checked my phone. It still feels surreal to go about my day in a country my grandfather, Joseph Kaltmann, a Holocaust survivor, chose because of its safety, and to realise that Australian Jews will now carry the trauma of being the victims of Australia’s worst ever terror attack.

Since the atrocity in Bondi, what has settled over the community is a persistent sadness. There is a lot of checking in, but not much reassurance to offer. I now have a knot in my stomach that does not quite loosen. Is going to synagogue each week to celebrate Sabbath a risk to my life and the lives of my family and friends? No one can guarantee our safety anymore and having known several people killed and injured in the Bondi attack, the trauma will be lifelong.

To me, the last eight weeks has not just been about one horrific act of violence. It is also about the climate in which it occurred. Since the events of 7 October 2023, antisemitism in Australia has risen sharply and the Australian government has fumbled the response. Instead of being proactive, it was reactive. Meanwhile, Jewish institutions have been targeted, Jewish students have been harassed, synagogues were firebombed and Jews were assaulted.

Despite not being the victim of any of these attacks, the knowledge that it could happen to me is terrifying. In a close-knit Australian Jewish community where it feels like everyone knows everyone, that fear changes how you move through the world. It makes you think twice about what you wear, where you go, what you say and whether you want to be identified in public as Jewish.

There is also a strange loneliness to it. Other Australians do not live the way we do, with bodyguards at our children’s school, with air locking doors at our synagogues and high security for all our cultural events. As Australian Jews, so many of us are the children and grandchildren of Holocaust survivors. For my family and for so many others, the trauma of Bondi is both personal and historical. My grandfather survived and built a life here on the assumption that this was a place where Jews could finally

Australia’s disturbing changed face

stop scanning the horizon for danger and start thinking about futures.

My grandfather chose Australia because it was far from Europe. After his mother, father, brother and sister were murdered in concentration camps, he did not want his family ever to endure the same fear and persecution he experienced. And yet, here we are.

I do not believe Australia is uniquely hostile to Jews, and I am wary of collapsing complex realities into simple narratives of decline. In many ways, what is happening here mirrors what Jewish communities in the United States and Europe are also grappling with: a rise in open hostility, a sense

that old assumptions about liberal democracies as natural refuges for minorities are no longer as reliable as we once believed. But that does not make it easier to accept. If anything, it is harder, because it suggests that there are fewer places left to imagine as unquestionably safe.

Which is why the UN’s International Day of Commemoration in memory of the victims of the Holocaust, on 27 January, felt different this year. It is always a day of mourning and reflection, but it is also meant to be a day where we reflect on the moral frameworks that societies have built to make ensure that a Holocaust can never happen again.

This year, the uncertainty about my future in Australia felt uncomfortably close.

I do not want my children to inherit a version of Jewish life that is defined by caution and concealment. I do not want the story of my grandfather’s choice to be one of temporary reprieve, rather than lasting refuge. I want to believe that the country he chose, and countries like it, can still be places where Jews can be safe, but unfortunately, I am no longer sure that this will be the case.

RABBINIC THOUGHT

RABBI MOSHE GUTNICK RABBINIC ADMINISTRATOR THE KASHRUT AUTHORITY

On December 14, our community was confronted by pure evil, the likes of which we have never witnessed on Australian soil. Antisemitism, allowed to fester and grow unchecked for two years, finally erupted into violence. Fifteen innocent people were murdered in cold blood. It was not the first time terrorists have murdered our people, but it was the first time it has happened here. It was our October 7 moment.

Yet, even in the darkness, there has been light. The overwhelming response from our fellow Australians – an unprecedented outpouring of grief, solidarity and support for a Royal Commission into antisemitism – has been a source of comfort and hope. But for such a Commission to succeed, certain truths must be spoken plainly.

A Royal Commission must shine a light into the dark corners where evil hides. It must be empowered to reveal that Radical Islam is one such evil. It must state clearly that anti-Zionism and antisemitism are two faces of the same hatred. It must show that the demonisation of the State of Israel is itself a form of evil and that free speech does not extend to hate speech.

And I hope it exposes the inaction of our political leadership – and that when it does, those leaders will have

My friend Reuven

the courage to change course. On December 14, we lost 15 precious souls, each one a universe. I want to give voice to one of them: my dearest friend, Reuven Morrison.

We met when he began his return to Judaism and from that moment our lives became intertwined. I was his sandek and he would be laughing now at the thought of it. He taught me what a shvitz really is: turning bright red in a sauna and then running, laughing hysterically, to jump into a freezing pool. That was

Reuven – unashamed, full of life and able to bring us to tears of laughter with a complete lack of political correctness.

And when he went too far, Leah – his life’s partner – would bring him back with that instantly recognisable call: “Reuven!” She was his friend and then his partner from the age of 17, when they met on Bondi Beach. On that same Bondi Beach, with her at his side, he returned his soul to our Father in Heaven.

As he grew, he and Leah became devoutly religious. Everything he did

The origin of experiential education

I am often asked what it feels like to keep Shabbat and live a religious life. In response, I ask people to describe Coca-Cola to someone who has never drunk liquid before. They try: “It’s fizzy … sweet … refreshing … dark.” Then I ask, “But what does it taste like?” I follow with another question: “What does love feel like?” At some point it becomes clear that some experiences cannot be captured fully in words. They must be lived.

At the moment of revelation at Mount Sinai, the Jewish people declared, “We will do and we will hear.” The order is striking. Action comes before understanding.

At first glance, it might seem like blind faith: how can one commit before knowing all the details? Judaism places enormous value on learning, even equating Torah study with all the commandments. Yet Judaism is far more than a system of ideas. It is a life to be entered with the whole self.

Consider a child learning to walk. An infant does not begin by studying the mechanics of movement.

The child stands, falls and tries again. Only later does understanding emerge. Knowledge grows out of

experience; the act itself comes first.

So too at Sinai. The people undergo a spiritual rebirth, likened to that of a newborn. Like infants, they begin with action. By saying “we will do” before “we will hear”, they affirm that covenantal life is not an abstract philosophy, but something to be lived in body and time, in the rhythms of daily life.

was for the sake of Heaven. He wanted to fulfil every Chabad custom with precision. He did not move left or right without asking the Rebbe and every letter he opened felt written directly to him. “Rebbe, Rebbe” was always on his lips because it was always in his heart. He was deeply devoted to the Russian Jewish community. Ten years ago he dreamed of building a beautiful centre and shul for Russian Jews in Sydney. Together with his partners that dream became a reality. The love of his life was his daughter, Sheina, the apple of his eye. The lengths he went to for her Jewish education were extraordinary. His joy at her wedding and his delight in his grandchildren – Raizel, Esther and Mania – were boundless. In recent weeks, Sheina has shown immense bravery, advocating with poise and sincerity for the victims and for our people. Without a doubt, Reuven, standing among the angels, was pointing down proudly, saying: “That’s my Sheina”.

Reuven himself was the embodiment of courage. In the face of deadly force, he acted without hesitation and saved lives. For those who knew him, this came as no surprise. He represented the very best of who we are and his daughter walks bravely in his footsteps.

His life was a flame of courage, faith and love. May his memory be a blessing and may we be worthy of the light he brought into this world.

This does not diminish study. The Talmud teaches that “study is great, for it leads to action” and Hillel famously summarised the Torah with a moral imperative: “What is hateful to you, do not do to your fellow.

The rest is commentary, go and study it.”

Study refines practice, elevates understanding and deepens

insight. But it does not replace lived experience. As Rabbi Joseph B. Soloveitchik explains, true “knowing” in Judaism is not merely conceptual; it is intimate and impassioned, where intellect and experience merge.

This is why describing Shabbat, love or faith can only go so far. No explanation, however precise, can substitute for the feeling of lighting candles, sharing a meal, resting with intention, or sensing sacred time.

Cerebral understanding cannot replicate the texture and depth of lived reality.

The Torah itself is described not as a “tree of knowledge”, but as a “tree of life”. Life is something to enter, not merely analyse. Its roots are in the earth, its branches reaching upward. It must be grasped, not only studied from a distance.

The declaration “we will do and we will hear” captures this truth. Only by doing, by stepping fully into the rhythm of mitzvot and sacred living, can one begin to understand. Experience is not the enemy of thought; it is its foundation. Through action, the words of Torah become not just ideas, but life itself. It is only in living them that their eternal lessons unfold.

RABBI ARON MOSS RABBINIC THOUGHT

Question:

With everything happening lately, is it time for Australian Jews to pack up and leave Australia? Maybe G-d is telling us that the time has come to go to Israel. After all, we left Egypt in such haste that the bread didn’t have time to rise. Perhaps we should be rushing out of Australia right now.

Answer:

Yes, it is time for all of us to make Aliyah. Aliyah means to rise, to elevate, to step up.

For some, moving to Israel is a step up in their spiritual journey. Others need to make Aliyah right where they are. Either way, it should be well thought out.

We do not let terrorists decide where Jews live. And we can’t allow panic to direct us. Unlike Egypt, we need to do this calmly.

When we left Egypt, it happened in a rush. We were unworthy. We were helpless. We were still spiritually enslaved. We had to run so fast that there was no time for the dough to rise. We didn’t know where we were going. We didn’t care. We just needed out. But this time is different.

The prophet Isaiah says about the future redemption, “You shall not leave

Is it time to make Aliyah?

in haste, nor shall you go in flight” (Isaiah 52:12). When Moshiach comes, we will leave calmly, deliberately and with strength.

We will not be running away from something bad, but moving towards something good.

The final redemption will not be forced by fear.

It will be earned through our choices, our growth and 2,000 years of good deeds. Every mitzvah brings us closer. Every positive action makes us more ready. When the time comes, we will go because we want to go, not because we have no option.

That is why now is not the time to make dramatic moves out of panic. Terror is meant to shake us, to unsettle us, to make us feel unsafe. We must not reward it with rash decisions.

If you were already planning to make Aliyah, then now might be the time. If Aliyah was not on the cards for you until now, you still need to make Aliyah, in the spiritual sense. Not to run, but to rise. Rise in Jewish pride. Rise in unity. Rise in commitment to Jewish living, to Torah and mitzvos.

One day, we will all return to the Promised Land. When that day comes, it will not look like Egypt. There will be no rushed exits and half-baked plans. Back then, the bread didn’t have time to rise. Now, it will.

CANDLE LIGHTING TIMES

Friday, Feb 6, 2026 7:39 pm

Shabbat ends, Feb 7, 2026 8:35 pm

Friday, Feb 13, 2026 7:32 pm

Shabbat ends, Feb 14, 2026 8:28 pm

Friday, Feb 20, 2026 7:25 pm

Shabbat ends, Feb 21, 2026 8:20 pm

Friday, Feb 27, 2026 7:16 pm

Shabbat ends, Feb 28, 2026 8:11 pm

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Spelling bee answers

Jewish Location: BOCA RATON. Here is a list of some common words (“yes”, we know there are more words in the dictionary that can work, but these words are common to today’s vernacular): ABBOT, ABORT, ACROBAT, ARBOR, BACON, BAOBAB, BABOON, BACCARAT, BANANA, BARON, BATON, BOBCAT, BOOBOO, BORON, BRONCO, CARBON, CAROB, COBRA, ROBOT, TABOO and TOBACCO.

Questions/comments/compliments: email Yoni at koshercrosswords@gmail.com

Crossword answers

With Aliyah and absorption on the agenda, Aussies in Israel gathered recently at Telfed headquarters in Ra’anana on Australia Day.

Telfed is an organisation dedicated to helping new Olim (Jewish immigrants from Australia & South Africa).

Recognising the challenging and changing reality for Australia’s Jewish population post October 7, 2023, Telfed is ready to play an ongoing, supportive role.

Walls were draped with the Australian flag and Telfed doors opened to a lively crowd, replete with an authentic Aussie playlist as background music.

Aiming to help the next generation of Australian Olim thrive, the event, labelled a community ‘Hackathon,’ was insightful and informative, promoting two-way dialogue.

Within the forum, Aliyah stories were listened to, validated and learnt from. A Melburnian recalled his journey from the Great Southern Land to the Holy Land nearly half a century earlier. The most recent arrival was only a few weeks ago.

The Aussie spirit of mateship was alive and well. All were invested to make it easier for future Australians considering Aliyah. That included those that are

Telfed hosts Australia Day ‘Hackathon’ in Israel

new Israeli citizens and others currently planning to move to Israel permanently.

When new Olim arrive, it can be overwhelming. Telfed is determined to ensure all Jewish Australians making Aliyah experience a ‘soft landing’. In other words, simply making the whole bureaucratic process, integration and beyond as easy as possible.

There is rising interest from Jews around Australia to move to Israel.

Telfed CEO Rabbi Dorron Kline said “Telfed has been working in partnership with the Zionist Federation of Australia for 15 years. In 2025, we saw the biggest jump in new Olim and we wanted to better understand why Australians weren’t reaching out to us. The first interaction is as they arrive, but we know they are losing out on crucial advice during the months before making Aliyah.”

Telfed’s raison d’etre is to promote the successful integration and quality of life for Australians and South Africans in Israel. The number of Australians making Aliyah over the past year has increased by more than twenty per cent and this is expected to continue to grow exponentially.

Aussie attendees were told of the plethora of pathways via which Telfed

can and does help. From counselling, seminars and mentoring for future employment, to social welfare and assistance, Telfed has even subsidised rental apartments in Tel Aviv and Ra’anana. Five hundred plus scholarships are also on offer.

Chairman Maish Isaacson spoke about the importance of community and support. With young Olim making up approximately 40 per cent of new arrivals, it’s no coincidence that Telfed has initiated new projects to provide additional financial and emotional assistance. “All new Australian lone soldiers are invited to meet Telfed staff and collect a ‘gear up gift’,” Maish said.

“These backpacks contain supplies donated by our community. When they collect these, our new young Olim meet Telfed representatives and learn about the free services and resources – from social workers to social events – available to them. It is a privilege to take care of them as they head out to protect us.”

Telfed is an anchor for integration. It has been in existence since 1948. With the birth of the State of Israel, 804 South Africans arrived as volunteers in the War of Independence. Then, a decade and a half ago, Telfed began helping Jewish

Australians. One overarching goal is to ensure Aussies are aware, and have access to, all of the services offered.

Hosting in excess of 100 events each year, the Telfed team ensures that attention is given to each age demographic. The result is a feeling of connection and cohesion to the Telfed family.

A sweet treat on the Australia Day celebrations was kosher Tim Tams, which never age.

Personifying the Aussie spirit of volunteerism, many expressed their wish to contribute and give back. As a direct result, a Telfed Aussie Action Group was formed. Looking to the future, this bond between Israel and Australia will only get stronger.

Telfed works in cooperation with the Zionist Federation of Australia and the Jewish Agency for Israel. For information about the Aliyah process, contact the Aliyah Centre at aliyahaustralia@jafi.org.

To prepare for your integration in Israel, please contact Sarah at aliyahprep@ telfed.org.il to schedule a one-on-one meeting with Telfed’s Klita team.

ENTERTAINMENT REVIEW

BALLOON STORY AT SYDNEY SHOWGROUND

ALEX FIRST

So joyful. So creative. So colourful. Simply astounding. I felt like a little kid, full of awe and wonder.

Yes, these are my words. This is unquestionably one of the must-see exhibitions of your life for there is nothing else like it.

Forget balloons stretched, twisted and folded into a sausage dog. That is so passé.

Think instead of the Einstein of ballooning (who, by the way, is captured in balloon form in this extraordinary showcase).

Half a million coloured balloons have been transported across the globe and made their way into the Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre.

Then, they have been blown up into decorative art forms in a series of galleries, a process that took 10 days.

I am not just talking any balloons, but ones made of plant-based latex, specially coated so they don’t deflate quickly and given extra shine like Armor All on a car.

Importantly, once the exhibition finishes, all will be recycled.

As you enter, you can take selfies alongside exhibits such as a hot air balloon, traffic lights or a drum kit.

FOODIE CORNER

ALAN BENDER SOUL GOURMET

This is my first recipe after Chanukah and I really had to create something with honey in it, in memory of Matilda, the youngest victim of the appalling Bondi massacre.

This recipe is wheat and gluten free, and is nondairy.

In the first instance, I mixed the cream and fruit together and that worked out well.

Then, on my second attempt, I layered mango and cream and that worked out even better.

Ingredients:

3 fresh ripe mangoes pureed (keep a little for garnish)

1 litre Kara coconut cream well chilled (thick part only)

Good quality honey to taste

Juice and zest of 1 lemon to taste

Optional vanilla essence or cardamom

To garnish:

It is best to serve as individual portions placed in glasses.

Add lightly toasted shredded coconut, diced mango and mint.

Method:

1: Peel the mangoes and either finely chop or puree the flesh, but remember to keep some firm flesh to garnish

Flights of fancy

Then you enter a jungle setting where a lion opens and closes its jaws and where a zebra, a monkey, a giraffe, a rhino and a tiger prowl. A toucan and flamingos, too, make quite an impression.

In the middle of that room is the best, biggest, most interactive ball pit you are ever likely to see.

It is quite deep, so you need to keep a close eye on the littlies, but it is well worth taking the plunge, especially if you – like me – remain a child at heart.

From the jungle you move under the sea, where you are greeted by a veritable cornucopia of ocean delights.

Think fish, a crab, a turtle, a giant octopus, a diver and even an anchor and hidden treasure chest.

At the centre of the exhibition is an area set aside for youngsters to have heaps of fun throwing and playing with massive balloons.

The arctic beckons, with fairy penguins, a reindeer, a walrus in all its glory and polar bears, including one that looks particularly ferocious. Of course, there is a snowman, an igloo and Santa with a reindeer.

The wonder that is Balloon Story continues with the space exhibit. A huge

Mango honey parfait

rocket, space buggy and astronauts sit comfortably alongside aliens and phosphorescent plants. A maze of light green and pink balloons leads you past well-known figures – from Elvis, Michael Jackson and Freddie Mercury to Marilyn Monroe and Frida Kahlo.

The piece de resistance comes with the monuments’ space.

That is where the Eiffel Tower takes pride of place, alongside the Sphinx, Statue of Liberty, a New York cab, a stunning Chinese dragon and so much more.

Balloon Story was borne of global balloon artists and designers who came up with the show’s concept. Before Melbourne and Sydney, it was seen in New York City.

At this stage, tickets for the experience at Fever Pavilion at Sydney Showground are available until 18th March.

Fifty people were involved in creating the scenes and sculptures for both cities. They have done a mighty job.

There is something very special about this experience, chock full of whimsy, so please be sure to catch it before it finishes.

Allow 60 to 90 minutes.

Go to https://balloonstory.com

2: Lightly beat the coconut cream until it is airy

3: Fold in the puree and balance the flavours with the honey and lemon, vanilla essence and cardamom 4: Place into individual glasses and chill well 5: Garnish just before serving Chef's notes: I added a little vodka to the mango to make it more adult. If there is pareve cream for Pesach, this will make a stunning dessert. The addition of mint, passionfruit or, even, pomegranate rubies also work a treat.

CANDICE WERMUT MANAGER SAJE AROUND THE COMMUNITY

In the wake of the Bondi terrorist attack on December 14 that saw 15 people slaughtered, the Sydney Jewish community has been left asking painful questions.

Will our community ever be the same again? How do we move forward –rebuild, regrow and re-strengthen –without those we have lost?

These questions linger in our hearts and echo through our synagogues, schools and our homes.

Yet, amid the grief, something extraordinary has been quietly unfolding.

At SAJE, the Orthodox Jewish conversion program – where two of those murdered at Bondi had links –we have witnessed resilience not as a slogan, but as a lived reality.

SAJE exists to open doors – to Judaism, to learning, to belonging. Behind the scenes, it is sustained by people whose humility and kindness rarely make headlines, but whose impact is and was immeasurable.One of those people was Rabbi Yaakov Levitan. Rabbi Levitan played an instrumental role in supporting SAJE’s IT infrastructure, always behind the scenes, always ensuring things worked so others could focus on learning and growth. He was always a phone call away, never a bother, never too busy. Rabbi Levitan quietly fulfilled one of the

The unbreakable spirit of Sydney’s Jewish community

most sacred responsibilities in conversion: witnessing the mikvah immersions. As one of the three required witnesses, he stood with reverence and discretion as candidates entered the covenant of the Jewish people. He was the kindest mensch you could ever meet. Rabbi Eli Schlanger once shared that he wanted to teach for SAJE because he truly believed in what we were building. And

believe he did – not only in programs, but in people. For years, Rabbi Schlanger worked tirelessly with Jewish inmates, never judging, never turning away. When guidance was needed, he was there. His kindness was instinctive, his belief unwavering. Education was the key and love for Judaism was the path. Eli was truly one of a kind. We thought October 7 would slow us down.

We thought December 14 would stop us in our tracks. Instead, the opposite occurred.

Since the attack, SAJE has received a surge of enquiries from people seeking to convert to Judaism – people choosing to bind their future to the Jewish people precisely at a moment of pain and vulnerability. It is a profound statement of faith, courage and solidarity.

This does not erase the loss. Nothing can. We move forward carrying absence with us, not replacing it. The community will never be the same, but that does not mean it is irretrievably broken.

If anything, these moments reveal something eternal: the Jewish spirit does not retreat in the face of hatred. It responds with connection, learning and commitment, with people stepping forward and saying, “I want to belong. I want to build. I want to join.”

SAJE continues, not despite the pain, but because of the values taught by those we have lost: kindness without judgment, quiet service, unwavering belief in education and love for Judaism and people. We rebuild not by forgetting, but by remembering … and by choosing life, growth, and faith, again and again.

Bondi memorial

A heartfelt tribute at the

Israel and Poland

Moments from the 2025 Moriah Israel Study Tour – a transformative journey for the year 10 and 11 students, deepening their understanding of history, identity and connection.

When you invest in Moriah, you invest in a strong and thriving Sydney Jewish community.

Jewish education is the cornerstone of Jewish continuity. By contributing to The Moriah Foundation you will:

Assist families facing �nancial hardship to bring their children to Moriah

Support innovative programs and bring a world of opportunities to all our children

This year, we will commence building our new High School, a milestone for our community’s future.

By giving today or through a gift in your Will, you enable Jewish children to learn, grow, and thrive, immersed in Jewish values and traditions - now, and for generations to come.