After October 7, 2023, entire communities across Israel were forced from their homes, lives were devastated and essential systems stopped functioning.
The recently released JNF Impact Report for 2025 is not just a report of activity. It is a record of what it takes to restore the conditions for daily life to return and of responsibility met.
JNF Australia exists to secure a safe and prosperous future for the land and people of Israel. That mission has taken on renewed clarity.
Since October 7, JNF donors have done more than just respond to the crisis. They have helped rebuild Israel’s frontline communities stronger, more stable and more secure than before. With their support, a remarkable 104 projects have been delivered across more than 90 frontline communities, supporting over 50,000 families. More than $31 million has been directed to projects on the ground.
In the immediate aftermath of the tragedy, JNF donors enabled rapid, targeted action. In the months that followed, they helped communities return, rebuild and restore daily life.
Infrastructure continues to be rebuilt. Essential services are operating. Families are returning. Displaced communities are slowly beginning to function again.
Stabilising communities is only the first phase. Ensuring they remain viable is what follows.
Today, that work continues with a clear focus: not only to rebuild what was lost, but to strengthen these regions for the long term. Every project has been identified and delivered with trusted partners on the ground, ensuring funding
is directed to areas of greatest need.
As always, all funds distributed by JNF in Israel are allocated in full to specific projects. JNF representatives in Israel verify each project, ensuring full accountability from donation through to delivery.
The CEO of JNF Australia, Doron Lazarus, said the response required
clarity, discipline and a willingness to act without delay. “When entire communities are displaced, the response cannot be symbolic. It has to be immediate, precise and sustained. This work is about restoring the conditions for people to come home and rebuild their lives. Many communities are beginning to function again.
That is what our donors have made possible,” Mr Lazarus said.
In partnership with KKL-JNF, JNF Australia has expanded its impact through the establishment of innovation centres across Israel. This heralds an exciting new phase of JNF's impact, advancing Israel’s next stages of growth and capability.
This investment will fund research, innovation and start-ups, pioneering world-class solutions in agriculture, water, environment, climate and medicine. JNF understands that Israel’s future strength and next phase of growth will be driven by ideas, technology and international collaboration.
The full JNF Australia 2025 Impact Report is available at: https://jnf.org.au/ impactreport2025/
To continue to support this vital work, go to www.jnf.org.au
Thanks to your generosity, communities are rebuilding, families are returning home and essential services are being restored across Israel’s frontline regions. Together, we are helping Israel heal, rebuild, renew and grow.
DR DVIR ABRAMOVICH
I was at home when the news broke, in the kind of forgettable moment that defines a country that still believes it is safe. There was nothing in the air that suggested horror was about to intrude, nothing to prepare you for the way a single message can fracture your sense of reality.
The phone lit up, a name appeared, and at first the words meant very little. Bondi. An incident. Shots. You read them once, then again, and then your body reacts before your mind catches up, because somewhere deep inside you already understand that something terrible has begun to unfold. The messages come faster now, sharper, heavier, harder to dismiss, and you feel the room change around you as if the walls themselves are listening. People are running. There are casualties. It’s bad.
That was the night. Sleep, when it came, late and shallow. A few days later, the country had a number.
Fifteen people. Fifteen lives ended in the space of a night, at a Jewish festival that was supposed to be about light, about resilience, about continuity, about the stubborn refusal of a people to disappear. Fifteen stories that will never be finished. Fifteen empty places at tables where laughter should have returned the next day.
That is where this story begins. Not in the language of a report. Not in a list of recommendations. Not in the tidy architecture of systems and processes. But in the raw, human moment when ordinary life is shattered and replaced with something permanent and irreversible.
It is from that place that I have read the Interim Report of the Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion. I have read it once. I have read it twice. I have read it three times. By the third reading, I was no longer taking notes. I was angry.
I was angry because I had been waiting, like every Jewish Australian who picked up that document, for the page on which the unforeseen would reveal itself. The page on which a country would be told, in its own official words, that what happened at Bondi was a horror that no one could have prevented.
That page does not exist. This report does not shock with revelation. It wounds with confirmation. And confirmation, in this case, is worse than revelation, because confirmation strips away the one comfort that nations cling to in the days after the terror, the belief that no one could have known.
People knew.
Picture a Sunday afternoon at Archer Park, in Bondi Beach. Volunteers are setting up. There is a petting zoo for the children. There is a rock-climbing wall. Food stalls are preparing donuts, deepfried in oil, because that is what you eat at the festival of light. The event is scheduled to begin at five. At seven, there will be speeches, and the lighting of a giant menorah, and dancing. Up
is on every page of this report
to a thousand people are expected. The location, on the event flier, reads: Bondi Beach Park, near the Children’s Playground.
That is what was happening at Bondi Beach on the afternoon of 14th December 2025.
Now move backwards. Six days. The eighth of December. An email is sent from the Community Security Group of New South Wales to officers of the New South Wales Police.
The email is not buried in jargon. The email speaks in the plainest possible English, and the words that matter are written, in capital letters, in the original.
The current Security Level Alert for the NSW Jewish community is HIGH. A terrorist attack against the NSW Jewish Community is likely and there is a high level of antisemitic vilification.
Read it again. A terrorist attack. Against the NSW Jewish Community. Is likely.
This warning was sent to NSW Police. The email asked, in writing, for the deployment of police resources for the entirety of the event. Three days later, on 11th December, an internal NSW Police email was sent. From a NSW police inspector to the two inspectors who would be on duty at the festival on the night.
Seven words. “No need to stay the entire duration.” I have read those seven words a hundred times. I have read them aloud to myself to hear how they sound in a human voice. I cannot understand how anyone, in possession of the email of 8th December, could read those words and put them in writing. But they were written.
They are now in a Royal Commission report, in the permanent record of this country. And on the night of 14th December 2025, three general duties officers and one supervisor were allocated to a Jewish festival that the community itself had begged, in writing,
six days earlier, to be protected as a likely terrorist target. That night, two gunmen opened fire on the crowd.
Three officers. One supervisor. Four police, for a thousand people, at an event the country had been warned was in the bullseye.
But it would be a mistake to read this as the failure of one command on one night. The Royal Commission tells a far harder story. It tells us that for years before the attack, the country’s national security apparatus had been stepping back from counterterrorism. By ASIO’s 2022–23 reporting year, the federal intelligence agency had two branches working on counterterrorism, and five working on espionage and foreign interference.
The threat level was raised back to probable in August 2024. The DirectorGeneral of Security warned, in his own words, of a “disturbing escalation” in the targeting of Jewish interests. The community kept telling, kept writing, kept warning.
And the report makes one further finding so devastating it deserves its own line. There were no missing laws. There was no absent power. There was no legal obstacle preventing protective action. The system, as it existed in this country, had everything it needed to do what it was supposed to do. It simply did not do it.
The Prime Minister has now stood at a news conference and said that all of the report’s recommendations relevant to the Commonwealth will be implemented in full. I want to believe those words.
But promises do not stop bullets. News conferences do not protect children at a menorah lighting.
Acknowledgements do not return one of the fifteen people who were murdered at Bondi Beach. What matters is whether anything visible, anything urgent, anything a Jewish parent can feel in their gut actually changes before
the next Chanukah. The next Passover. The next Yom Kippur. The next time a thousand of us gather in a public park, lit by the candles of a festival that is, at its heart, a refusal to disappear.
And it is not just the Commonwealth’s commitment that matters. The most consequential recommendations of this report, the ones that touch firearms, that touch policing, that touch the security of every public Jewish event in this country, will require the states and territories to act. Their commitment, too, will be measured against what we now know.
I am writing this for every non-Jewish Australian who has picked up this newspaper and is thinking that this is, somehow, someone else’s story. It is not someone else’s story. It is yours.
What happened at Bondi Beach happened in your country. The warnings that were ignored were ignored in your country. The 8th December email was sent in your country. The seven words – no need to stay the entire duration – were written, in your country, by an officer of your police force, in the week before fifteen of your fellow citizens were slaughtered.
The country that prides itself on safety, on fairness, on the fair go failed fifteen of its own. This is what the Royal Commission report says.
Antisemitism in this country is not a problem at the edges. It is not an academic debate. It is not a matter of perspective, or of nuance, or of being balanced.
It is a fire that has been burning, in clear public view, for more than two and a half years, while the institutions that promised to protect us looked at it and decided that it could be managed. It cannot be managed. It can only be confronted. There is no more time. The fifteen we lost at Bondi are how we know.
No one in this country gets to stand up tomorrow, or any day after, and say that what happened at Bondi was a tragedy no one could have foreseen.
The Bell interim report gives us an opportunity to act. To close the gap between warning and response. To ensure that when a threat is identified, it is met with the full weight of the system, without delay, without dilution, without the comfort of believing it will not go further. Because it does go further. It always does.
And now we know what the warning signs look like. We know the cost. Which means the next time those signs appear, the next time a community says it is at risk, the next time the threat level rises, every choice will carry a moral weight that cannot be ignored.
What happens next will define what kind of country this is. And whether Bondi was a turning point or a warning we will one day realise we failed to heed.
Dr Dvir Abramovich is chair of the AntiDefamation Commission and the author of eight books.
Since the brutal Hamas attack on Israel on October 7th, 2023, Israel has faced war on multiple fronts. Now is a transitional period, which entails decreasing the threats facing Israel and reshaping the entire Middle East. Israel will not tolerate threats, derived mainly from the Islamic regime in Iran and its proxies, but will act to lower and eliminate them. The objectives should be attained either through diplomatic efforts or military options.
Since March 2nd, Hezbollah has launched about 10,000 rockets, missiles and drones at Israel, endangering the citizens in the north. Many of these attacks were launched near UNIFIL positions, systematically taking advantage of UNIFIL’s presence for its hostile actions.
The objective of Israel’s military operations in Southern Lebanon has been the protection of the people of Israel, attained by creating a buffer zone to prevent ground invasions by Hezbollah and distance the threat of rockets.
Israel has always aspired to peace with Lebanon. Due to Israel’s weakening of Hezbollah, Lebanese president Joseph Aoun was voted in and direct talks between Israel and
aspirations and continues to threaten and, even, attack international maritime shipping in the Strait of Hormuz. As a result, the USA has declared a blockade on Iran’s blockade, stating clearly that there should be freedom of navigation for all, equally.
With the continued Iranian aggression, time is running out on diplomatic efforts. The policy is clear – we must attain, without compromise, the objectives of removing the existential threats –primarily the nuclear and ballistic missiles programs – posed by Iran.
The Global Sumud Flotilla: provocative PR stunt
Dozens of vessels embarked on a provocative journey, known as the “Global Sumud Flotilla”. In coordination with the Greek government, the Israeli navy intercepted the craft and transferred the protestors to an Israeli ship, before they disembarked on a Greek beach.
Lebanon in Washington have become a reality. Yet, Hezbollah continues to engage in violations of the ceasefire and international law, acting against Lebanon’s interests and undermining its stability.
The Lebanese government bears the responsibility and must act decisively against Hezbollah and its terrorists. The Lebanese president came out publicly against Hezbollah, stating: “Treason is taking your country to war for external
interests”. Hezbollah poses a shared challenge for both Israel and Lebanon. It threatens Israel’s security, while undermining Lebanon’s sovereignty.
Updates on the ceasefire with Iran
In an attempt to resolve matters diplomatically, a ceasefire has been enacted. The USA and Israel have always supported diplomatic efforts, in good faith. However, Iran has revealed an uncompromising stance on its nuclear
Anyone genuinely interested in providing humanitarian aid to Gaza can do so via the Civil-Military Coordination Center (CMCC) mechanism. The CMCC has flooded Gaza with enormous quantities of humanitarian aid since October 2025.
The so called “flotilla” had nothing to do with aid, but all to do with public relations and self promotion. Hardly any aid has been found on the vessels, but condoms and drugs have been discovered.
DAVID SCHULBERG
David Schulberg spoke with Liora Miller, who is one of four women that lead the Project A.
Its mission is to combat antisemitism, anti-Israel bias and misinformation, through advocacy and education.
It seeks to strengthen Jewish identity and empower our allies to stand with our community.
Liora is also vice-president of the National Council of Jewish Women Australia (NCJWA).
David
With the deadline looming for making submissions to the Royal Commission, being the end of May, Project A is running Royal Commission writing workshops. As you say, every story matters, whether you're Jewish or an ally. You say we need every ally and Jewish experience of antisemitism since October the 7th to be put on the record, so it can't be ignored, minimised, or rewritten. What do these workshops entail?
Liora
It's incumbent upon all of us who've been exposed in different ways to antisemitism to write that down and tell their story in their own words. Project A, in collaboration with the National Council of Jewish Women, are running workshops around the country.
We've got organisations reaching out to us saying that they feel that their staff or their congregations would be well served by having these workshops. We know people are telling very personal stories.
They might have legal questions around confidentiality, anonymity and defamation. We've got the Jewish Centre for Law and Justice attending our workshops, who can provide legal advice. Also, the Royal Commission is making funded legal aid available.
We're providing emotional support. For many people writing down their experiences is more traumatisation. It's terrible what's happened to many people.
Hence, we're providing counselling support at these workshops. We know that what is wonderful about our community is this sense of coming together. We have people together in a room writing for an hour or two and we support each other in this process.
David Are these workshops face-to-face, rather than online?
Liora
There've been a number of information events on Zoom, which have been fantastic, because, obviously, some people aren't able to get to a location or the date doesn't suit them, but this is the kind of thing now where it’s important to be in person. That's why we're offering a range of dates across the country. People have very personal questions to ask. They don't want it necessarily to be on a Zoom call, and we can give that one-on-one assistance by being in a room together.
David
Can you give us some dates and how people can register to get involved in some of these workshops?
Liora
The best way is to go to the NCJWA website and there you'll see a tab for workshops with the dates that are offered and where you can register.
People say to me sometimes, look, I don't really think anything dramatic has happened to me. It doesn't need to be dramatic. It doesn't need to be something that changed the way you live your life. It can be the little things that we've normalised as a Jewish community.
If you've had kids going to Jewish schools, we all know there are armed guards there. That's not something that general Australia has to experience. If you've ever gone to a Jewish event, you’d know that the community security group (CSG) and police are in attendance. Moreover, you won't find out where the event is going to be held until about 24 hours before. These are experiences that have become part of our daily life, but it's not the daily life of ordinary Australians and it shouldn't be our daily life.
These are things that people need to express and communicate to the Royal Commission. They can also email us directly at projectainoz@gmail.com and we can let them know when the next workshops will be.
David
You're calling for people to join these workshops and you're collaborating with other Jewish community organisations, providing guidance and support in a safe structured setting. This cuts across the entire community where you're combining your efforts with these other major Jewish bodies. You are a grassroots organisation, and this seems to reflect a different way in which our community bodies are working, where formerly there had been a tendency for them to be very protective of their own turf. Are we coming together more because of what happened on October 7th? Is it bringing the community closer together?
Liora
The six main peak representative organisations of the community are submitting a joint submission, assisted by Arnold Block Leibler (ABL), which is
providing countless hours of pro-bono advice to the community. They reckon that a joint submission is the strongest submission, rather than each of the peak organisations writing one themselves. That said, each of the board members of these organisations and its constituents are strongly encouraged to submit personal submissions.
Project A has always been of the view that collaboration is a better way of operating than singularly, which is why one of our workshops has been in collaboration with many of the shules across Victoria coming together under the one banner.
David
We've been seeing bodies like the Jewish Council of Australia causing fractures in this Jewish community. Are they a serious danger to our community?
Liora
They are not a serious danger in that the vast majority of Jewish members of our community support the right of Israel as the nation-state of the Jewish people and are living Jewish lives. These others, and there are not that many of them, have an outsized, disproportionate voice compared to their numbers. They only established themselves in February 2024.
They call themselves by a name that appears to be representative of the community, which is absolutely and utterly misleading, because they are not. The media were cajoled. If we want to give them the benefit of the doubt they presumed them to be representative because of their name. Slowly, though, they're being educated that they don't represent the mainstream community.
David
Our community leaders tried to ignore them when they first formed, but they gained more and more prominence. This effort to not give them oxygen was an abject failure.
Liora
By being on panels with them and giving them a platform to some extent that has given them a certain credence that they shouldn't have. Talking about advocacy, I had a plumber come out today, a Jewish plumber it was. I asked
him about whether he has made a submission? He had this Magen David tattoo on his arm and he said he'd experienced terrible antisemitism going into people's homes. I said, "Well, have you submitted?" He looked at me quizzically and I said, "I'll send you the link; You're submitting."
I think we all have the opportunity where it presents itself to make noises and to provide that encouragement. To that end we have our advocacy missions to Israel. We were meant to be on our Israel mission right now, but of course we had to pull it because of the war. We have set new dates – the 13th to the 18th of December. For any who might be interested, please reach out to us via email. We would strongly encourage everyone as members of the Jewish community and beyond, even to encourage your non-Jewish friends and colleagues to come, because, at the end of the day, nothing is quite like being in Israel and seeing it for yourself.
David
For those people who may have trepidations about putting in submissions, there is a website: shareyourstory.org,au, where people can see what others are saying, to get some idea of some of the submissions being made.
Liora
That's certainly an opportunity. I do want to reiterate though that there's no template, there's no particular way that you ought to set out your submission. In fact, I would argue against that. There isn’t a cookie cutter approach. It just needs to be in your own words. No legal language. Maybe start by saying what you know, why you're here in Australia, what your background is, and then lead into what it is that you want to convey to the Commission.
When you go on to the submission site, if you're concerned about exposing your identity, you can remain anonymous or you can be confidential, which means that the Commission will know who you are, but your identity will not be made public.
David
People should be aware that we don't have all the time in the world, that there are deadlines looming and submissions need to be in by the end of May to be accepted.
Liora
I would encourage people to do it sooner. Hearings have started at the beginning of May and if you've got a particularly egregious story, or a particular perspective that the Commission might be really interested in hearing with oral testimony, leaving it to the end of May will be too late. I would strongly encourage people to get them in as soon as possible.
This is an edited extract from an extensive interview with Liora Miller, 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’s program can be heard weekly on J-AIR in Melbourne and 2TripleO in Sydney.
United Israel Appeal is continuing its partnership with Safewill, one of Australia’s leading online Will-writing platforms, helping supporters create a legacy that protects their loved ones and strengthens the future of the People of Israel.
As part of Charity Wills Week, which runs from 11th to 25th May 2026, UIA supporters will be able to draft a legally binding Will at no cost. In doing so, they can put their values into action, gaining peace of mind for their families, while also creating the opportunity to leave a lasting gift to Israel through UIA.
A Will is one of the clearest ways to ensure that your wishes are honoured and your loved ones are cared for. It is also a powerful way to express what matters most to you beyond your lifetime. For many in our community, that includes helping safeguard the future of Israel and the wellbeing of its people from generation to generation – L'dor v’dor.
Every gift in a Will, even as little as one per cent of an estate, can help support Israel’s national priorities through UIA’s wide-reaching programs. These include Aliyah and absorption, mentoring at-risk
victims of terror, helping families in crisis and strengthening long-term post-war recovery through initiatives such as the Rebuilding Israel Fund.
Launched as UIA’s long-term national recovery initiative, the Rebuilding
rehabilitate families and communities, and restore resilience where it has been most deeply shaken. It reflects the scale of the challenges Israel now faces and the need to think not only about immediate relief, but about the future that must be secured from here.
UIA Australia CEO Yair Miller OAM said: “Leaving a gift in your Will is one of the most meaningful ways to turn your belief in Israel’s future into lasting action. At a time when the needs of the People of Israel continue to grow, legacy giving helps ensure that the support we provide today will still be there for generations to come.”
UIA Victoria CEO Peter Horovitz said: “A gift in your Will is a powerful statement of continuity.
It says that after taking care of those closest to you, you also want to help safeguard the strength, resilience and future of the People of Israel. That is what I call an ‘Am Yisrael Chai’ legacy.”
In return for every gift left in a Will, UIA makes a simple promise: to use it with care, integrity and deep respect for the intention behind it.
By including UIA in your Will, you are not only protecting your loved ones. You are helping protect the continuity of our shared story and the future of the Jewish people.
To find out more, visit https:// uiaaustralia.org.au/gifts-in-wills/
NOMI KALTMANN COURTESY: THE JEWISH INDEPENDENT CONSIDERED
My first trip to Israel was when I was eleven years old. My pre-Bat Mitzvah gift was a trip to a country that I already loved, despite never having visited. More than 20 years later, I can still remember the texture of that visit: my first view of the Western Wall bathed in the soft late-afternoon light, vending machines stocked with kosher food, climbing Masada and thinking about the people who had held out there under Roman siege and eating falafel that tasted fresher than anything I had ever eaten in Melbourne.
I fell in love with that version of Israel. Or, more honestly, I fell in love with the way I experienced Israel at that age –uncomplicated, immersive and entirely certain of its meaning.
I have been back to Israel many times since, usually for something significant, like my sister’s wedding or accompanying an Australian parliamentary delegation as a staffer. I am not Israeli; I am an Australian born Jew with a deep family history here. My family has been in Australia since the 1860s and my mother’s ancestors are buried in the Jewish section of the Ballarat cemetery. And yet, when I arrive in Israel, there is a relief at not having to explain the basic contours of my Judaism. For once, I am not the ‘interesting Jew’, as I am to so many of my non-Jewish friends and colleagues at home. I love being in a place that my religious practices require no translation, where kosher food can be assumed and where Shabbat is built into the structure of the week. For a long
time, I have found it easy to sit inside my dual identities. I am Australian, but I have a deep love of Israel. I speak Hebrew, I follow Israeli news and I understand, at least in part, the national sensitivities that shape Israeli public life. Yet, despite this love, I do not want to move to Israel and I feel culturally very Australian.
Yet, since October 7, my relationship to Israel has changed and I’m still trying to unpack exactly how I feel.
I have never expected conversations about Israel to be easy, but since October 7, criticism of Israel has become something I don’t really even know how to engage with anymore. People whose thinking I respect, whose analysis I rely on in other contexts, now speak about Israel in language that leaves almost no room for nuance, describing it as a genocidal state, as a uniquely illegitimate political project.
In the circles I move in, particularly among writers, journalists and lawyers, there is a working assumption that Israel represents a kind of moral failure, something to be condemned rather than wrestled with. I find myself increasingly unsure how to enter these conversations. Anything I say feels either inadequate or misread, too critical or not critical enough, too emotional or not sufficiently detached.
To be clear, I am not talking here about the more ignorant or antisemitic commentary that has become so prevalent in recent years, nor the kinds of claims that reduce Israel to something it is clearly not. What I am struggling with
are the more nuanced critiques, coming from people who are informed and thoughtful, who are engaging with what is actually happening on the ground in Israel.
My difficulty is compounded by my own unease about the direction of Israeli politics. Figures like Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich represent a version of Israel that feels more extreme than the one I grew up feeling connected to, one that sits against my values of equality and democracy that I was always taught were central to the Israel’s identity. The violence against Palestinians in the West Bank, particularly by “hilltop youth”, is so often met with limited or inconsistent consequences from police, a force now overseen by Ben-Gvir, which seems to signal a worrying direction for Israel. What troubles me most is the way violence has settled into Israeli political life and is no longer seen as aberrant.
I also abhor Israel’s recently passed death penalty. These laws specifically target Palestinians and exempt Jews, and risks entrenching a legal framework where the law is not applied equally. To me, this signals where things may be heading, a move towards a country that has a legal system that distinguishes on race rather than on a shared and consistent legal standard for all people. Is this law part of a broader Israeli shift – one that raises serious and, at times, confronting questions about the strength of Israel’s democratic institutions? I think so. And yet, my connection to Israel is not objective. It is emotional, tangled up in
the specific and the personal. My siblings live there and many of my closest friends from Australia have built their lives there. When I think about Israel, I am not only thinking about a state or a set of policies. I am thinking about people whose lives are directly shaped by what happens. I cannot emotionally detach and I do not think I should have to, because for me Israel is bound up with Jewish history, with my identity as a Jewish woman, and with a sense of our people’s vulnerability.
Yom Ha’atzmaut this year arrived for me at a time when I no longer know how to talk about a country I fell in love with. I think about myself as an 11-yearold, standing at the Western Wall in the late afternoon light, certain of what she was seeing and what it meant. Yet, I feel that the Israel I fell in love with and celebrated feels vastly different from the one I am watching today.
I do not know if there is a way to fully reconcile my deep love for the country with my deep worry and concern about its direction.
In the end, when I think about Israel, I think about its people: my siblings, my friends and so many people I know and care about who live there.
Whatever I feel about the direction of the country, I still love and care about Israel, and all the people who have to live with what it becomes.
AB BOSKANY
Both Anzac Day and Israel’s Independence Day turn military history into national identity. One draws its strength from a crushing defeat, the other from a hard-won victory, yet both nations use rituals and symbols to bind citizens to the same idea: who we are is who we fought to become.
Anzac Day begins in darkness, when thousands gather for the Dawn Service. The ritual is deliberate; a lone bugle plays the Last Post, followed by silence, then the Ode of Remembrance. Veterans and schoolchildren march while families lay red poppies at cenotaphs. The tone is sombre, without fireworks or street parties. The message is endurance: Gallipoli’s failure revealed the character Australians claim – mateship and quiet courage.
Israel’s Yom Ha’atzmaut follows Yom Hazikaron, when a nationwide siren honours fallen soldiers and terror victims. Then grief turns to celebration: flags rise, people sing and barbecue, and fireworks mark the living state. Survival itself becomes part of memory.
The soldier at the centre of each story is different, yet serves the same purpose. The ANZAC digger is remembered for courage in a doomed campaign. He is the reluctant citizen-soldier who fought far from home and embodied the
“Aussie
battler”, who never gives up, even when the cause is lost. That image is the template for Australian masculinity and citizenship – concise, loyal and capable in a crisis.
The Israeli soldier of 1948 is remembered
B’nai B’rith NSW (BBNSW) will host A Celebration of Unity on Saturday, 13th June.
The event will bring together Jewish, Christian, multi faith and secular communities for a dinner focused on connection, understanding and respectful dialogue.
It will feature a Havdalah ceremony, live entertainment by Chutney and traditional hora dancing.
A joint initiative of BBNSW and Allies for a Strong Australia, the evening reflects the Jewish community’s commitment to engage constructively across society, regardless of background or religion.
“Bringing people together face-toface over a shared meal is incredibly powerful,” said BBNSW president John
earlier. They fought with one rifle for every three soldiers and defeated five well-equipped Arab armies, trained and equipped by the British Empire. Their victory became proof that
Despite their differences, both rituals do the same national work: they turn military history into shared memory. Through services, wreaths, school ceremonies and family stories, the soldier becomes the ideal citizen, whether fallen at Gallipoli or victorious in 1948. In both countries, the past becomes a sphere of belonging and blood becomes the inheritance through which defeat and triumph are remembered.
On Gallipoli’s shore, where silence destroys the sun’s wound, and in the siren’s cry that splits Israel’s sky like prophecy, the Earth remembers. These days do not recount battles; they open veins. Blood, whether spilled in defeat or triumph, won’t die; it flows still through the nation’s body. We are its unfinished transformation. We carry an endless pulse through two fires: one on a broken shore, the other beneath a sky split by remembrance. Between them, the dead do not sleep. They become the red script by which the living learn that identity is never received whole, but
us for a special evening bringing Jewish, multi faith and secular communities together for ‘Havdalah’ dinner to build understanding, respect, and unity.
JUNE 2026
RABBI SHAUL ROSENBLATT COURTESY: AISH.COM CONSIDERED OPINION
Antisemitism is rising in Britain and many Jews are quietly leaving. Here's why one London rabbi is staying – and what he believes Jews must never forget.
As a rabbi in London, I hear that question more and more frequently. And I see some quietly voting with their feet as well. But for me, the answer remains a resounding “No”. Or perhaps more accurately: “Not yet”.
I grew up in Liverpool 50 years ago, and antisemitism then was, in many ways, worse than it is today. I remember arriving at my new school at around nine years old and being welcomed by a boy calling me a “dirty Yid”, before placing chewing gum in my hair for good measure. Later, while attending Jewish secondary school, there were intermittent physical attacks as well.
Perhaps naïvely, I believed Britain had changed for the better in the 21st century – that antisemitism belonged largely to the past. But after October 7th, something shifted. We have seen violent rhetoric on our streets, attacks against Jews, and a level of hostility many believed unimaginable in modern Britain.
So naturally people ask: where does this end?
The truthful answer is that none of us knows. We find ourselves on a slippery slope with no visible bottom. Jews have always slept with one eye open and, in recent years, it has been opening wider.
Yet despite my concerns, I do not believe Britain today resembles
Germany in the 1930s, as I hear some suggesting. It’s not even close. I say this not out of naïveté, but because I have spent decades studying the rise of Nazism and leading educational trips to Poland’s death camps.
The comparison, while emotionally understandable, is historically unsound.
Britain’s liberal democratic culture evolved gradually over centuries –from the Magna Carta through the Glorious Revolution and onward through the Great Reform Act and beyond. Germany’s democracy, by contrast, was young, fragile and lacked deep liberal roots. Antisemitism there was not merely tolerated; it had long intellectual, political and cultural foundations that became increasingly embedded within the state itself.
At the time of Hitler’s Beer Hall Putsch, Germany had been democratic for less than 10 years.
Most importantly, the British state today remains fundamentally and vociferously opposed to antisemitism and antisemitic violence. That distinction matters enormously.
Recently, a colleague of mine took a group of Jewish children camping. He casually mentioned the trip to the Community Security Trust (a charity that protects the Jewish community). Unexpectedly, local police proactively contacted him in advance to say they were aware of the visit and had assigned officers to help protect the group.
In 1930s Germany, the police were not protecting Jews. Increasingly, they themselves were the perpetrators. And the government stood behind them. Britain today is still very different, thank
God. That does not mean things cannot worsen. They can. We are clearly living through a period of growing extremism, polarisation and increasing anger. Jewish institutions require significant security. Many Jews feel uneasy in public in ways they did not only a few years ago. Those are realities and must not be minimised. But panic is not a wise guide for decision-making.
I like to make decisions based on the reality before me, not hypothesised futures. And the present reality is this: Britain is a country governed by law, with institutions that, imperfect as they are, seek to vigorously protect Jewish life.
Above all, though, I believe Jews must not lose sight of our deeper mission.
More than 3,000 years ago, we were charged with the task of becoming “a light unto the nations” – to build lives rooted in holiness, justice, compassion and responsibility.
Judaism brought into the world revolutionary ideas: love your neighbour, the sanctity of human life, moral responsibility, universal education, peace as an abstract ideal and the dogged belief that humanity will ultimately find its way.
At our best, Jews remind societies that human beings are capable of something more elevated than the pursuit of power, violence and self-interest. And so, my response to antisemitism has always been this: become better. Hatred that leads to hatred leaves only more hatred in its wake. Yes, Jews must defend themselves, vigilantly and vigorously. Yes, Israel must remain strong. And yes, Jews living anywhere in the world must avoid naïveté.
If we have learnt anything from history, surely it is this.
But ultimately, the great Jewish weapon has never been the sword. It has only ever been the book, the idea, the moral vision and the stubborn refusal to give up hope for a better world.
Antisemitism reminds us that our work is not yet finished. So no, I do not believe it is yet time for Jews to leave the UK. That day could come. Jewish history teaches us never to dismiss such possibilities. But we are not there yet.
For now, I believe my task is to remain, to contribute, to help build a stronger culture of morality, responsibility and decency. Israel is my homeland and my future, and I support it with every fibre of my being. But at present, I feel that my responsibility is to Britain and to its Jewish community. I remain hopeful and optimistic. And, like Jews throughout history, I sleep with one eye open.
Rabbi Shaul Rosenblatt is Director of the Rabbinical Training Academy, an innovative program that mentors newly qualified rabbis through the first eighteen months of their first jobs. He is also the author of Why Bad Things DON'T Happen to Good People, a semi autobiographical book about understanding and facing challenging times. His recent book, Mean What You Pray, is a practical guide to connecting to God in prayer. Both are available on Amazon and in Jewish bookshops. He does a weekly podcast, with his wife Chana, called Thoughts About Life, available on all platforms.
DR HILLEL NEWMAN AMBASSADOR OF ISRAEL TO AUSTRALIA CONSIDERED
For Israel, like Australia, ANZAC carries a profound and personal meaning that reflects a shared history and enduring partnership between our two nations.
Each year on Anzac Day, Australians pause to honour the courage, sacrifice and spirit of those who served. It is a day deeply embedded in the national identity of this country.
Like in Australia and New Zealand, so too in Israel.
The Anzac bravery is commemorated annually in Israel, with several events. At the Tzemach ANZAC Memorial, located at a restored Ottoman-era train station, Israelis and Australians gather every year at dawn to honour the fallen. A lifesize bronze statue stands as a powerful reminder of the bravery of Indigenous Australian soldiers who fought alongside Jewish soldiers.
More than a century ago, Australian soldiers of the Australian Light Horse rode across the deserts of the Middle East as part of the Allied campaign during World War I. Their bravery helped bring an end to centuries of Ottoman rule in the region. In doing so, they helped create the conditions that would ultimately enable the re-establishment of the Jewish homeland.
Two battles in particular remain etched into our shared story. The charge at the Battle of Beersheba, one of the last great cavalry charges in military history, which was instrumental in opening the way for Allied advances. Less widely known, but equally significant, is the Battle of Semakh, fought near the southern shores
of the Sea of Galilee. There, ANZAC troops, including Aboriginal soldiers, displayed extraordinary courage in fierce combat.
Ceremonies at Be’er Sheva bring together representatives from both nations in tribute to the soldiers who fought in these battles. These commemorations are not merely acts of remembrance; they are living expressions of a friendship forged in shared sacrifice.
Before I began my mission in Australia, I participated in the Semakh battle commemoration, which took place in September 2025.
Following the start of my mission in Australia, I laid a wreath at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier ahead of Anzac Day. I went specially on the eve of Anzac Day, as I could not attend the
official ceremonies, which fell on the Sabbath. Our participation reflects Israel’s profound respect for those who gave their lives in defence of freedom.
The story of ANZAC is not only about the past. It carries enduring lessons for the present – lessons that resonate strongly with Israel today. It reminds us of the necessity of standing firm in the face of threats.
Just as the ANZAC forces confronted the challenges of their time, from the Ottoman Empire to later global conflicts, the world today continues to face threats from forces that seek to destabilise regions and undermine peace.
Chief among these is Iran’s ongoing effort to expand its Islamic revolution through a network of proxies across the Middle East and beyond. Iran and its
proxies execute terrorism, undermine states and disrupt global shipping and economy. History teaches us that vigilance and resolve are essential.
ANZAC underscores the importance of international cooperation. The achievements of the Allied forces in World War I were not the result of one nation alone, but of a coalition united by its shared purpose. Today, the USA and Israel act jointly in confronting global challenges. Regional aggression, terrorism and emerging security threats require that same spirit of partnership and resolve.
ANZAC reminds us that Australians and Jews, and today Australians and Israelis, historically stood side by side in pursuit of freedom and security. That partnership did not end on the battlefields of the early 20th century. It continues in our strong diplomatic ties, our cooperation in innovation and defence, and our shared democratic values.
The bond between Israel and Australia is built not only on shared history, but also on shared principles.
These include resilience in the face of adversity, a commitment to protecting our shared values and a determination to defend freedom against those who seek to threaten it.
As we reflect on the legacy of ANZAC, we are reminded that history lives on in the choices we make today. The courage of those young soldiers more than a century ago continues to inspire us to stand together in current times, working collectively toward a more secure and peaceful world.
Lest we forget.
REBBETZIN ESTY GUTNICK
SHARONNE TIDHAR
Ingredients:
4-5 Granny Smith apples
5 eggs
1/2 cup vegetable oil
1 cup plain flour
1 cup white sugar (which can be adjusted, if you want less sweetness)
2 teaspoons baking powder
Michael Scott’s new book, A Light Still Burns: Israel and the Values Worth Defending, opens with a premise that feels increasingly hard to ignore: The world has changed. Antisemitism is no longer whispered, and too many people are choosing silence.
1/2 cup orange juice
Cinnamon sugar
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.
REBBETZIN ESTY GUTNICK
Ingredients:
Dough:
Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar. Bake at 180 degrees Celsius for 50-55 minutes until the edges are golden brown.
2 cups flour
1 teaspoon baking powder
¾ cup sugar
1 egg
½ teaspoon vanilla sugar
½ cup oil
¾ cup sugar
1 tablespoon brown sugar
1 tablespoon vanilla sugar
1 ½ tablespoons cornstarch
Method:
Scott is now building Foundation 2023, an Australian-based initiative aimed at combating antisemitism not through slogans, but through lived experience.
Mix together dough ingredients. Press down half the dough mixture to line the bottom of a greased pan. Mix together filling ingredients. Pour on top of the dough and bake at 180C for half an hour.
Filling:
vehicles. It was, he says, a turning point in understanding the complexity of the conflict and the challenges faced by the Israel Defense Forces. His conclusion is blunt: “The way they minimise civilian casualties — no one does it better.”
1 bag frozen strawberries
1 bag frozen rhubarb
Years later, in 2018, Scott took up a United Nations role in Jerusalem – an unarmed military posting supported
Crumble remaining dough mixture on top and bake for another half hour.
The idea draws inspiration from the Colombo Plan – the mid-20th century program that brought students from across Asia to Australia, building longterm relationships and understanding
Briefed in Rafah, he observed the scale of the tunnel networks –infrastructure large enough to move weapons through it and, in some cases,
Scott is not Jewish. In fact, he laughs and describes himself as a “goy”. But that is precisely what gives his voice a interest, but a sustained engagement that would shape his worldview. In 2004, Scott was invited to Gaza. What
His response has been to act.
Foundation 2023 aims to do something similar in reverse: bringing non-Jews to Israel to see the country firsthand. Through industry placements, scholarships and cultural exchanges, participants are exposed to Israel’s diversity – its technology, its democracy, its social complexity. One of the program’s pillars even includes participation in Tel Aviv’s Pride March, challenging assumptions about the region. A Light Still Burns is, at its core, a call to courage. It is not written from the margins, but from someone who has spent a lifetime in service and who now believes that silence is no longer an option.
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.
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 have 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.
Proper names and hyphenated words are not allowed. Score one point for each answer and three points for a Jewish related word that uses all seven letters.
Rating: 6 = Good; 10 = Excellent; 13 = Genius
Rating: 10 = Good; 13 = Excellent; 17 = Genius
Yoni Glatt has published more than 1,000 crossword puzzles worldwide, from the LA Times and Boston Globe to The Jerusalem
He has also published two Jewish puzzle books: "Kosher Crosswords" and the sequel "More Kosher Crosswords and Word Games".
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".
PAGE 19
ANSWERS PAGE 19
RAMONA FREEDMAN
ALIYAH ADVENTURES
Once upon a time, the ancient Israelites boasted royal families and dynasties spanning generations. Think of the House of David for one. Nowadays, there is no official, regal monarch per se but, if we could, we would place a crown upon the metaphorical head of … uncertainty.
You feel it everywhere and in everything. Are we in a state of war? Are we not? Will we be tomorrow? There always seems to be activity on multiple fronts. Sometimes heartbreaking and sometimes heroic. Sometimes both. Almost always, it is dramatic. And so, Israelis, with no assurance of open skies and/or quiet nights, intuitively focus on the here and now.
This Jewish nation should be awarded a united PhD-equivalent in this. Their ongoing commitment to this way of being is impressive. This brings me to my Pilates Reformer class, which here is called a Pilates Machine class. It is a marvellous melting pot of Israelis, new and old and it is incredibly popular.
Lying on the Pilates reformer/machine bed … again, I was trying to translate what the Hebrew-speaking instructor was saying in real-time. Always trying. To aid this endeavour, I was watching the fit and fabulous female to my left. I confess I was a little distracted by her tattoos. Now, tattoos are definitely not a Jewish custom, but many seem to have them here. On a sunny day – in fact, on any day – the famous beaches of Tel Aviv can attest to that.
I was trying to decipher the small, Hebrew letters on her upper arm and simultaneously follow her Pilates moves. I soon gave up on both and realised I has missed the most prominent of her tattoos in English. It was three simple words: ‘Live the Moment’.
With this, she had encapsulated the Israeli zeitgeist perfectly. Indelibly. Indefinitely.
And yet, as I read and absorbed it, all present in that class were doing just that. That morning was as ‘regular’ as Israeli society gets. School kids were going to school (not a given, appreciating they just had a giant, forced summerequivalent break because of the war).
Parents were headed to work, savtas (Israeli grandmothers) were questioning the freshness of the roasted garinim (sunflower seeds) at the local nut shop, sampling more than their fair share with an earnestness that had to be admired. Live the moment.
There is undoubtedly sweetness here in the everyday. Be warned, often you must forget about occupational health and safety concerns. Following is a case-inpoint: at the local fruit market there is an ancient looking chopping board with a giant machete-like blade resting on top of it. A crowd was congregating around a huge crate of watermelons, which are now just in season. Discussions ensued about which melon was the sweetest and before you know it, someone (customer? employee?) had sliced one jaggedly in half. Everyone grabbed for a piece to give their perspective on how flavourful it actually was.
So much here is communal in the best, boisterous way. And everybody is an expert, about seasonal fruit, about war fronts, about it all.
The other day, a worker asked me something in Hebrew. I hesitated and said, “Oh, I am a bit shy when it comes to speaking Ivrit”. The reply was: “Ramona, haven’t you realised yet, no one in this holy land of milk and honey is inhibited.” They weren’t wrong.
We are blessed to have a garden here in Israel. I have these pioneering plans to plant fruit trees. My vision is to plant a pomelo tree and others. The thing is … if you visited our place right now, you would be unimpressed. The whole garden is an utter mess. You see, our gardener, Boaz, is loyally serving in the miluim. He is an army reservist who has been called up for what must be hundreds of days so far. He is in and out of fighting in Lebanon.
Now, his is a family business, and I just don’t have the heart to hassle his anxious mother by demanding to know when my garden will be given attention. Boaz is giving to the Jewish world. Ramona’s Ra’anana citrus dreams will have to wait for now, weeds and all.
Suddenly, I find myself praying for our gardener’s safety, and for his mum to stay sane (a big ask). One day, only when and if they can, they will hopefully help us out. Perspective here is everything. With this we can (and must) often be so forgiving. After all, it is all about community. It is all about ‘us’, not ‘me’.
Therefore, I have found that, honestly, Israelis are not spoilt. They make do. If a construction job is completed and threequarters of what was requested has been given attention, it is considered a good job. So many have sacrificed for so much. It feels impossible to explain the full extent of this. And so, when they can, if they can, locals stop to schmooze over watermelon, and everyone has an opinion about … you name it. For the record, Israeli watermelon is wonderful.
There is obviously something special within this spiritual soil.
Right now, there is genuine interest from many Jewish Australians about making Aliyah. Ever since I moved almost two years ago, many have reached out and asked me about this … given all that has transpired in our Great Southern Land. So heavy. So much. I can truly appreciate that.
Well, there is an organisation with its HQ in Ra’anana called Telfed. In partnership with the Zionist Federation of Australia, it provides free, personalised guidance to help Australians and South Africans prepare, connect and build their lives in Israel. Telfed helps with successful integration and quality of life.
The Ramona news du jour is that I have now joined the Telfed team and will be assisting Aussies and South Africans with any pre-and-post Aliyah questions in any way that I can.
It is official. And I am delighted and excited to be present in this ongoing way. For now, for next year, for the next decade. For whoever, whenever. I have walked the walk and now, ‘yes’, talk the talk for anyone who has queries or questions.
Many of you know I have been doing this in an unofficial capacity since I made Aliyah mid-2024, and now it is with the support of this tireless team. Please tell your nearest and dearest. I am here whenever needed.
I must say I felt like a true Israeli recently on Yom Hazikaron, the national Day of Remembrance … a day of depth so special to the entire Jewish world. And, of course, to all Israelis. Radio announcers describe it as a day of holiness. You feel that on a visceral level.
There I was, proud of myself for driving on an Israeli highway, when 11 o’clock suddenly ticked over and sirens began to blare across the whole nation for two minutes. I mirrored the actions of the cars ahead, pulled over and got out of my car. I instantly recognised that this siren was a different pitch and tone
to the run-to-the-bomb-shelter sirens I had been hearing of late. There I was, on a highway, who-knows-where, and I powerfully channelled the phenomenal fallen. I cried thanking them. In those moments, the heaviness almost crushes you, and then you rise, get back in your car and get on your way.
With our old friend/foe ‘uncertainty’, at the moment we can’t really rely on internet orders to arrive in a timely manner. So that day, I dropped real money, I am talking some serious shekels, into good, old fashioned Israeli businesses. Into the hands and pockets of owners on the ground. Present. Here and now. Is this the very best value? Politely, I would answer that this is probably not the wisest question to ask. Does it feel good to support Israel? Always.
With Shavuot almost here, cheesecakes are suddenly on every menu. Yes, Israeli dairy delights have their annual moment in the Middle Eastern springtime. In truth, all here love their cheeses, yoghurts and the rest on daily. If you are here on holiday and ever get a chance, treat yourself and indulge in one of the fivestar hotel fancy, dairy buffet breakfasts. Think Waldorf-Astoria or the King David hotel in Jerusalem; think The David Kempinski in Tel Aviv. Enjoy the boutique goats’ cheese shakshuka and artisanal cheese boards featuring kosher hard and soft cheeses such as Camembert, Brie, Aged Gouda and Emmental. The list is long.
Shavuot is a time when we commemorate the divine revelation of the Torah over 3,000 years ago at Mount Sinai. Cheesecake and blintzes aside, I feel, in fact I know, that there are divine revelations and miracles happening here daily. There truly are.
For now, it is over and out from Ramona in Ra’anana.
To contact Ramona directly, please email: ramona@keshercommunications. com.au.
RABBI DR BENJI LEVY
It is strange, when you think about it. The festival on which we celebrate the giving of the Torah at Mount Sinai, the most dramatic moment in our history, is commemorated by eating cheesecake. Why?
There is no commandment in the Torah requiring us to eat dairy on Shavuot. The custom comes first and the explanations come later. One of the most striking is also the most practical. When the Jewish people received the Torah at Sinai, they also received the laws of how to eat. In a single moment, their pots, their meat and their entire way of preparing food no longer fit the new framework. With no time to adjust, they ate the only thing they could. Dairy.
The implication is profound. Before the people had absorbed the philosophy of Sinai, before they had unpacked any of the theology, they had to confront the cutlery. Revelation did not stay on the mountain. It came home with them, into the tent, into the cooking pot. Torah was not given to remain an abstraction. It was meant to live in the most ordinary spaces of life. The pantry. The kitchen. The small daily decisions that no one ever sees.
There is something quietly radical about this. Most religions and philosophies are interested in the dramatic moments of life, the peaks of meaning, the experiences of transcendence. Judaism,
almost uniquely, is just as interested in what is on your plate. It takes eating, the most instinctive act a human being performs, and asks us to bring awareness to it. To pause. To notice. To make a decision, rather than act on impulse.
This is the deepest invitation of Shavuot. Not to eat any particular food, but to eat consciously. To recognise that what we put into our bodies is never neutral, that every meal is an opportunity to bring meaning into the most ordinary moments of life.
It is no coincidence that on Shavuot we also read the Book of Ruth. Ruth is the great convert of our tradition, accepting the Jewish people and their values before she could have known what that life would look like. And where do we first see her live out that commitment? Not in a study hall or a synagogue, but in a field, gathering food. Like our ancestors at Sinai, Ruth's transformation finds its first expression in the most ordinary corners of life.
Rabbi Sacks once defined faith as 'the defeat of probability by possibility'. At Sinai, the Jewish people accepted that an entire way of life could begin again, one meal at a time. They had no idea how it would unfold. They said yes anyway. This Shavuot, what we eat is not incidental to the festival. It is a memory of the moment our ancestors brought meaning home. Sinai is not somewhere we go. It is something we build, meal after meal, in the most ordinary room in the house.
RABBI MOSHE D GUTNICK RABBINIC ADMINISTRATOR
KASHRUT AUTHORITY
I make this statement because I believe Australia stands at a crossroads. I have lived my entire life in this country, served its Jewish community for decades, and come from a family that has given much to Australia. My parents fled persecution in Europe and found refuge here. My father arrived in 1941, enlisted in the Australian Imperial Force, and later returned as a military chaplain, ultimately retiring with the rank of major. My mother arrived even earlier, in 1936. Their story is both a Jewish story and an Australian one, and it shaped my own deep sense of loyalty to this nation.
Yet, throughout my life, antisemitism has been a recurring presence. As a schoolboy, I was assaulted by an older student who called me a “bloody Jew”, and cars would slow down so passengers could shout the same slur. In my final year of school, a group of young men drove past my class yelling, “You Jews – you Christ-killers”. These incidents were painful, but I believed they came from ignorance rather than widespread hostility.
One event in 1996 changed my understanding. While recovering from surgery, I was in a Rose Bay car park with two of my children when a man approached and screamed, “You should have all been gassed” and “They should have turned you all into lampshades”. I locked my children and
myself in the car while they cried. When I called 000, the operator refused to connect me to police, dismissing it as “just a political dispute”. The recording later helped secure a conviction, and the courtroom reacted with shock –not only at the offender’s words, but at the operator’s refusal to help. Neither of them were extremists. They were ordinary Australians. That, more than
anything, frightened me. Despite these experiences, I always believed Australia was one of the best countries in the world for Jews.
I trusted that mainstream Australia, the police and government authorities would stand with us. That belief was shattered after the Hamas atrocities of 7 October, 2023. Suddenly, chants such as “gas the Jews” and “where are the
Jews?” were heard openly at protests. These were not directed at Israelis, but at Jews as Jews. Many in our community were advised to stay home for their safety.
Yet, week after week, antisemitic behaviour went unchecked, and only one Jewish individual was reportedly arrested or issued a move-on order at any march.
The tragedy at Bondi Beach – the attack on a Chanukah event – brought this crisis into the starkest relief. My colleague, Rabbi Yehoram Ulman, lost his son-in-law. I lost dear friends. My own grandchildren were present but, by the grace of God, unharmed. Some might say this was the inevitable result of the inaction that preceded it.
And yet, there are points of light. Ordinary Australians have approached me in airports and on the street to say, “We are with you”.
The bravery of first responders that night was extraordinary.
Australia must now decide what kind of country it wishes to be. I believe the most effective long-term response is education – a national program from Year 1 to Year 12, teaching that every human being is created in the image of God and possesses inherent dignity. Antisemitism is the canary in the coal mine. If we do not confront it now, the consequences will not be limited to the Jewish community.
I offer this testimony in the hope that Australia will once again be a place where Jews feel safe in their own home.
Question:
I hate my birthday. Every time it rolls around, I just feel down ... and older. On the outside, it’s all balloons and cake, but inside, I’m miserable. It’s coming up again next week and I am genuinely dreading it, almost wishing it would just pass unnoticed. Is there something wrong with me?
Answer:
There is absolutely nothing wrong with you. In fact, you are suffering from a very healthy case of spiritual indigestion. The reason you feel empty on your birthday is because you’re being fed the wrong thing. We’ve been told that birthdays are for receiving – gifts, attention, the first slice of cake. But the soul doesn’t crave getting. It craves meaning.
If your birthday is just a celebration of you existing for another 365 days, it’s depressing. It’s just a countdown. And no one feels inspired by a clock quietly ticking down. But that’s not what it is. And deep down, you know that. That quiet discomfort you feel isn’t negativity; it’s a refusal to settle for
something shallow. Your soul is pushing back against a version of the day that doesn’t match its purpose.
If you have a birthday, it means you were born. And that is huge. Birth is G-d’s way of saying the world can no longer move forward without you. Think about it: billions of people lived before you arrived. Clearly,
SHARONNE TIDHAR
Shavuot begins at sundown on Thursday, 21st May and ends at nightfall on Saturday 23 May – three days in which the Jewish world eats dairy and lots of it. The kind of dairy that suggests purity, simplicity and higher purpose. For me, the kind that comes in a perfectly set cheesecake with a glossy top and not a crack in sight.
Every year, I decide that this will be the year I make a cheesecake. Not just any cheesecake, but one of those elegant, whisper-soft, faintly trembling ones that suggests I am a woman who has her life together.
A woman whose cakes rise, set and behave themselves in public. A woman who doesn’t Google “why is my cheesecake weeping?”
Truth be told though, that woman is not me. What emerges from my oven usually slumps in the middle, puffs at the edges and vaguely resembles a deflated ball. And that’s ok, I am learning to make peace with this, except to say there is, I’ve noticed, a particular kind of woman who will say, very casually, “Oh, I just whipped this up”, and present a cheesecake so perfect it could be used in a museum display titled Domestic Competence Through the Ages.
It will have a base that holds. A middle that sets. And a top that does not resemble a drought-affected landscape.
they weren’t enough. There was a specific gap in the universe that only your soul could plug. Your birthday isn't just an anniversary of your arrival. It’s a renewal of your mission. It’s a reminder that your presence here is not accidental, and that your role is still unfolding, whether you feel it or not.
I, too, have a base. It is usually either too thick (cement-like) or too thin, and a slice implodes on the plate. Yes, it’s a true and sad fact. Careers come and go. Relationships evolve. But a perfectly set cheesecake? That’s forever out of reach.
And then, of course, there are trends. At the moment, we appear to be living through what seems to be the Biscoff Era.
Everyone is making Biscoff cheesecake –there are Biscoff swirls, Biscoff drizzles and Biscoff bases.
I, too, bought a jar of Biscoff. The recipe began with “crush the biscuits”, but emotionally I was already crushed.
The reason you feel down is that your soul is sitting there amidst the wrapping paper thinking: "Is this it? Is this why I was sent here? To eat sponge cake and be the centre of attention?" Your misery is a sign of your greatness. Your soul wants to get to work. It’s not rejecting the celebration; it’s rejecting the emptiness of it when it stands alone.
If birth means you are needed, a birthday means you aren’t done yet. So, this year, don't just have a birthday. Use it. Make it all about gifts, cake and a party, but with a twist.
The gifts: Stop wondering what people will get you. Ask: What gift can I give the world that only I possess? Your specific temperament, your unique struggles, your sense of humour – those are your tools. Use them to make a better world.
The party: A party is a gathering of people. Look at the people in your life and ask: Who am I uniquely positioned to uplift? What do I bring to the party?
The cake: Cake is sweet, but shortlived. Find one sweet act of kindness, a phone call to someone lonely, an anonymous favour, that creates a lasting impact. Make it less “happy birthday to me” and more “why was I invited?”
The jar, I regret to say, never made it into the cake. It barely made it past the spoon, but I can just blame that on the primitive little sugar-gremlin that runs my brain.
Then there’s the yoghurt cheesecake. This is for the woman who wants to honour tradition, while also suggesting she has made a series of excellent life choices. It is light. It is virtuous.
It is, unfortunately, faintly reminiscent of eating yoghurt. It’s the kind of dessert that makes you feel both smug and slightly betrayed.
Meanwhile, my children could not care less. They do not distinguish
between a hand-crafted, baked cheesecake and something that comes in a plastic container with a peel-back lid. Their expectations are refreshingly low. Sugar is sugar. Texture is negotiable. Presentation is irrelevant. My greatest achievement, in their eyes, is opening a packet without scissors.
And yet, every year, I persist. Because cheesecake, I’ve come to realise, is not really about cheesecake. It’s about the quiet belief that this time – this time, I will get it right.
Judaism teaches resilience. I express mine by returning to cheesecake every year with a kind of baseless optimism (excuse the pun). Friends have hinted politely and family has tried more directly, but I still refuse to accept that my gifts lie elsewhere. So, this year, I will try again. Yes, I am ready … stoic … apron on.
I will read the recipe slowly, get the right ingredients, measure actual amounts instead of “that looks about right”, and even set the timer on purpose. I will pretend I understand oven temperatures beyond “moderate”. I will believe, briefly, in the possibility of a smooth, uncracked surface. I can visualise it now.
And if, once again, it collapses into something structurally ambiguous and emotionally revealing, I will do what any reasonable person would do. I will go to Coles or Woolworths, or Aviv, or Glick’s, smile politely at the perfect cheesecakes and take one home as if I’d made it myself.
ANNE-MARIE ELIAS
Let’s talk about red flags (warning signs that indicate unhealthy or manipulative behaviour) in our relationships – marriage, work and friendships.
These signal potential danger to your emotional, psychological, or physical well-being.
When you are interacting with another person, be it a partner, friend, boss or colleague, consider how you feel.
Are you feeling stressed or anxious? Are you expecting a form of harassment or bullying? Do you feel emotionally and/ or physically unsafe? If you answered “yes” to any of these questions, then this relationship is dangerous for you. The longer you stay in the company of that person, the higher the level of stress you will experience, which will result in a decline in your wellbeing.
If the relationship is filled with negatives, it will result in more worrying than connecting. Any shared goals will not be met. There will be a lack of motivation to continue the relationship and a desire to escape it.
In a marriage this may well result in a person seeking divorce; at work it will
lead to resignation and, with a friend, it will mean severing the friendship. In any of these relationships it will mean quitting in order to escape an unhealthy environment that will result in toxicity the longer you remain.
Clear red flags include:
They only reach out when they need something
There are times in life when leaning on another person in times of need is a natural part of any close relationship. We have all heard of or had a ‘fair weather friend’: that person who only contacts you when they need help but rarely, if ever, checks in on you. This onesided help is transactional. A green flag is about give and take.
They flood you with their feelings, but never ask about yours
If you feel like you’re always the one taking in your friend’s emotional pain, listening to their problems and comforting them through every crisis, but they rarely or never ask how you’re doing, you may be caught in a onesided friendship.
Over time, this type of relationship can leave you feeling exhausted. A good friendship is about feeling seen, heard and cared for in return.
Constant disrespect or dismissive behaviour
Respect is the cornerstone of a healthy relationship. When one person consistently disrespects the other,
Jewish sign, perhaps
Olympic sprinting champ Devers
NHL game setting
Hired gun, for short
Haza with the 1984 album "Yemenite Songs" 17. Illuminating dough? 20. .mpeg alternative 21. Former Giant's great Umenyiora
22. Free, with of
Having a meal?
Antismoking org.
Brubaker and Burns 32. Disney ape 33. Where to find Bhutan 35. Animal with one sign of kashrut
Blue hue in a printer
Sanctifying guests?
Brown and a tribe
Tefillin needs?
Chaplain who plays the villain in "Avatar: Fire and Ash" 44. Blood letters 45. Burrell and Cobb 46. What Aussies call college 47. Separating the flames? 53. Ice sculpting or ice dancing
54. The "t" in Crete? 55. Pursuer of Frodo and Sam
Welcoming seasonal bread?
whether through belittling, abuse, ignoring boundaries or mocking, it creates an unsafe emotional environment.
Disrespect erodes trust and selfesteem. Look for people who respect you, your boundaries and value you as a person.
Control and manipulation
Signs of control and manipulation include:
• Isolating you or excluding you from seeing or speaking to others, be it family, friends or colleagues.
• Making you feel guilty for having your own opinions and needs. Pressuring you into making decisions based on their wants.
• Over-monitoring your behaviour and micromanagement. Checking or tracking your whereabouts and demanding constant updates on what you're doing.
Healthy interactions include selfawareness, clear communication and boundaries. So, surround yourself with people who genuinely care for you and you for them.
Anne-Marie Elias is a psychologist in clinical practice for 25 years.
13. "Di-dah" preceder
18. African nut tree
19. Prepares to fire
24. Crime scene finds, perhaps
25. Apple on one's desk, perhaps?
26. Alternatives to wraps
27. Letter worth 7
28. President that deported the most illegal immigrants
29. She's probably not Jewish
33. Ethiopia's Addis
34. A ___ omission
35. Strict
36. 20s provider, for short
37. Begun is known for one
39. Elusive needle locale
40. Ice cream choice
41. Not nyet
45. Mountain lake
46. E Pluribus ___
48. She hid the spies at Jericho
49. Big game name, formerly
50. Slangy potato
51. Moved like slime
52. A pro team might make one
56. Oscar/Emmy/Grammy winner
57. Her match?
58. B'nai B'rith advocacy org.
59. Title for Larry Ellison
60. Yam of note
61. Dip on 8 Av
62. American rival, once
It is a privilege to see great actors Meryl Streep, Anne Hathaway, Emily Blunt and Stanley Tucci together again two decades on.
Here they are still carping and carrying on in their respective roles.
Streep remains the hard-nosed boss Miranda Priestly, at fashion magazine Runway, that Hathaway, as her second assistant Andy Sachs, knew and feared.
Since then, Sachs has moved on to become a highly regarded mainstream journalist.
Only, at an awards ceremony where she is lauded, she and other reporters at her paper are unceremoniously dumped (due to the changing face of journalism).
So, suddenly she finds herself jobless.
At the same time, Runway magazine is mired in controversy for allegedly engaging in “sweat shop” employment.
Sachs receives an unexpected call from the Runway’s chairman (Priestly’s boss), Irv Ravitz (Tibor Feldman), asking her to come work for him.
He wants her to rescue the magazine from its precarious predicament.
Unbeknown to Priestly, who doesn’t welcome her appointment, Sachs is appointed as the new features’ editor of the now online only publication.
Priestly again has Sachs running rings around her, but at least Sachs has Priestly’s longtime right-hand man, Nigel
Kipling (Stanley Tucci) in her corner.
The same can’t be said for Emily Charlton (Emily Blunt), Priestly’s former first assistant and now Dior senior executive, who had a prickly relationship with Sachs.
As a key advertiser, Dior is vital to Runway’s existence and now Sachs and Charlton must find a way to work together again.
This is merely the starting point for subterfuge and dirty dealings that sees the future of Runway up in the air and, with it, the jobs of Priestly, Sachs and
A cute Babe-like (1995) whodunnit with some good humour and sight gags. That is what you are in for with The Sheep Detectives.
Nothing to think about too deeply and some of the comedy hits the mark better than other attempts, but overall, it is a most enjoyable romp.
George Hardy (Hugh Jackman), who lives in a long, silver caravan on his farm in the small village of Denbrook, is totally besotted with his flock of sheep.
He fervently believes all are special and knows each one by name. He even reads them murder mysteries daily.
The smartest, who is able to solve the crime stories, is Lily (as voiced by Julia Louis-Dreyfus).
Then there is Mopple (voiced by Chris O’Dowd), who has a photographic memory.
Reggie and Ronnie (Brett Goldstein) are rams who continually butt heads.
Sebastian (Bryan Cranston) is a loner who George came across when the sheep was facing adversity.
Sir Richfield (Patrick Stewart) is pompous, while Cloud (Regina Hall) is fluffy and Wool-Eyes is the woolliest of all.
George thinks more of some of his fellow villagers than others and, likewise, they of him.
For instance, George doesn’t care much for his fellow shepherd Caleb (Tosin Cole) or for the local butcher, Ham Gilyard (Conleth Hill).
Kipling. New to the cast is Kenneth Branagh, who plays Priestly’s most understanding husband, Stuart.
So, too, Justin Theroux as tech entrepreneur Benji Barnes, Charlton’s overly effusive and wealthy boyfriend.
He is also the former husband of billionaire philanthropist Sasha (Lucy Liu).
Australian Patrick Brammall assumes the role of Sach’s love interest, property developer Peter.
Also watch for a number of cameo appearances from celebrities and a special appearance from Lady Gaga.
He is not exactly a true believer, so isn’t at one with the priest, Reverend Hillcoate (Kobna Holdbrook-Smith).
There is a distance, too, between George and innkeeper Beth Pennock (Hong Chau).
Then, one day, George turns up dead. His flock is devastated and it is soon clear this wasn’t a medical episode, but murder. George’s fellow townsfolk and others are all suspects.
The problem is that the only cop in town, Tim Derry (Nicholas Braun), isn’t exactly a Rhodes scholar.
So, it is left to the sheep to give him a helping hand to solve the crime.
Before his untimely death, George had been writing detailed and loving letters to a woman named Rebecca Hampstead (Molly Gordon).
The film sees many of the original filmmakers reuniting, which is a decided plus.
I speak of screenwriter Aline Brosh McKenna, cinematographer Florian Ballhaus, director David Frankel and producer Wendy Finerman.
While the script feels somewhat contrived, it is merely a vehicle for some most appealing interactions between the key players.
There is no shortage of sharp oneliners and visual comedy, all delivered seamlessly.
Streep is delightful (so, so good) as the uppity and entitled editor-in-chief of Runway Magazine.
Most of the focus falls on Anne Hathaway as the stress head, eager to please new features editor, a role she, likewise, excels in.
Stanley Tucci remains debonaire and measured as Miranda Priestly’s reliable sidekick.
Emily Blunt carries a “what’s in it for me” attitude as the Dior exec, looking for any opportunity to climb the ladder.
With its sumptuous look, thanks to cinematographer Florian Ballhaus and dreamy fashion choices, The Devil Wears Prada 2 is very easy on the eye.
I thoroughly enjoyed the ride, as should fans of the original, in what is a successful return to the well.
Rated M, The Devil Wears Prada 2 scores a 7½ out of 10.
Suddenly, she appears.
So, too, reporter Elliot Matthews (Nicholas Galitzine), keen to get a leg up at the paper. And then there is George’s lawyer, the no nonsense Lydia Harbottle (Emma Thompson), who is also not afraid to give the policeman strong advice on what to do.
Based on the best-selling 2005 book Three Bags Full by German crime writer Leonie Swann, the screenplay is by Craig Mazin (The Huntsman: Winter’s War).
The premise is that the sheep, who like George very much, understand what he says to them, but can’t talk to him.
However, they can – and do – speak to each other … in English.
That leads to several amusing interchanges, not the least of which occurs near the start of the movie.
That is when George leaves the sheep hanging (figuratively) by not revealing the identity of the perpetrator in his latest book reading.
The Sheep Detectives is feel-good entertainment that will readily resonate with children. It is a good family film.
It is the simple but varying characteristics – naivete, arrogance, scheming etc. –imbued in the human and animal players that make this such an enjoyable watch.
And what would any good whodunnit be without several red herrings thrown into the mix.
Hugh Jackman is delightful as the shepherd with a heart of gold.
Nicholas Braun comfortably fits the persona of the bumbling “detective”.
Emma Thompson is nicely hoity-toity as George’s legal representative.
Julia Louis-Dreyfus is a force who learns a thing or two about herself as the voice of the most prominent sheep, Lily, one of several to make their mark.
To go along with the dad jokes, there is a surfeit of visual comedy to keep the movie on the up.
And there is a lovely message here about outsiders (represented by lambs born in Winter, rather than the tradition, which is Spring).
Director Kyle Balda (Minions) has crafted an endearing flight of fancy with The Sheep Detectives.
Rated PG, it scores a 7½ out of 10.
For more of Alex First’s reviews, go to https://www.itellyouwhatithink.com
Some of the most popular fashion brands today were founded by proud, committed Jews.
Everyone knows fashion designers Ralph Lauren, Calvin Klein and Donna Karan are Jewish. But some of today's most soughtafter brands were also founded by Jews you might not know about.
Here are the innovators behind a few of the most popular high-end labels.
Chloé
This iconic French brand was founded by Gabrielle Hanoka Aghion, an Egyptian Jew who moved to Paris in 1940 and democratised fashion by inventing "ready to wear" (pret a porter) clothes, designing and selling to middle-class women who didn't have the time or money for custom couture.
Born in 1921 in Alexandria, Gabrielle grew up loving fashion. Her father managed a cigarette factory; her mother was fascinated by clothes and encouraged Gabrielle to design and sew her own.
"There are these really beautiful images of her playing at the beach in these really lovely light dresses," said Kristina Parsons, a curator at the Jewish Museum in New York, which ran an exhibit on Gabrielle. "I think that outdoorsy, very casual, easy approach to living was something that she carried into her designs."
Gabrielle met her husband, the Jewish Egyptian artist Raymond Aghion, when they were children in school; they married at 19. Together they engaged in Resistance activity during World War II, then moved to Paris in 1945, socialising with artists including Picasso and other intellectuals. Raymond opened an art gallery. Gabrielle began sewing dresses and in 1952 founded Chloé, borrowing the name from a friend because she thought it sounded more French and appealing to customers.
"All I've ever wanted was for Chloé to have a happy spirit, to make people happy," she said.
In the 1960s, Chloé gave a young unknown designer his break, hiring Karl Lagerfeld as house chief designer, after Gabrielle stepped away. She sold the brand in 1985 and passed away in 2014 at 93.
Maje and Sandro
Sandro and Maje are both French brands, both fashion-forward, and both founded by sisters: Evelyne Chetrite launched Sandro in 1984 and Judith Milgom launched Maje 14 years later.
The sisters grew up in the tight-knit Jewish community of Rabat, Morocco. Their family moved to Paris when Evelyne was 15 and Judith was 10. Evelyne learned the fashion business from her husband Didier, a fellow Jew who worked in Paris' tailoring Sentier district, and launched Sandro to fill a gap in the market: high-fashion, classic French style at accessible prices.
Judith worked for her sister and brotherin-law during teenage summers, then launched Maje in 1998, with a younger, more girlish aesthetic. The name is an acronym for their family: Moyal (Judith's maiden name), Alain (her brother), Judith and Evelyne. In 2009, the sisters jointly acquired the brand Claudie Pierlot.
Both Judith and Evelyne, along with their large families, make a point of sharing Shabbat dinner every week. They start planning Friday night's meal on Tuesday. In a 2012 interview, Judith described her commitment to not working on Shabbat: "About 20 years ago, I started to observe
the Jewish Sabbath really seriously. From dusk on Friday until dusk on Saturday, I don't do any work, don't shop or look at my email or phone. It's unbelievably therapeutic."
The Kooples
This prestigious label was founded in 2008 by three Orthodox Jewish French brothers: Alexandre, Laurent, and Rafael Elicha. "The Kooples" is the French pronunciation of the English word "couples"; ads feature reallife couples wearing the brand. Alexandre has said that "love is really the essence, the philosophy of the brand" and credits his wife Charlotte, whom he met in Israel, as his muse.
The brothers grew up with front-row seats to the French fashion world. Their parents, Tony and Georgette Elicha, founded the brand Comptoir des Cotonniers in the 1990s. "Our parents were amazing teachers and through them we got great experience and contacts," the brothers have said. But their parents also gave them something more enduring: a love of Judaism and a sense of responsibility to lead the French Jewish community, even when it's hard.
Tony led the Jewish community in Toulouse for years and served as vice pPresident of the Consistoire de Paris, an umbrella group for French Jewish organisations. In 2013, Alexandre became administrator of the Consistoire, running France's large Jewish community while also running The Kooples. His brothers helped shoulder the business. The three families celebrate Shabbat and Jewish holidays together and even vacation together.
In 2012, Alexandre became president of the Ohr Hatorah school in Toulouse, after it became the site of one of the worst terror attacks on French soil. On March 19, 2012, an Islamist terrorist ambushed children and staff entering the Orthodox Jewish school and opened fire.
He murdered Rabbi Jonathan Sandler, who was trying to shield his two young sons, then killed them: Arie, age five, and Gabriel, age three. He then shot eightyear-old Myriam Monsonego, the school principal's daughter, in the head. He also shot and severely wounded Bryan Bijaoui, a 17-year-old student. Alexandre remains close friends with the principal, Rabbi Yaacov Monsonego, and is devoted to strengthening Jewish education in Toulouse and beyond.
Shabbat, Alexandre has said, is the cornerstone of his week. "Life is so magic ... Shabbat is a good way to take time and think about what you're doing in this world."
Reiss
David Reiss grew up in a traditional Jewish family in London and attended an Orthodox school. In 1965, he took over his father Joshua's tailoring business in the East End, once a deeply Jewish neighbourhood. "I had this entrepreneurial spirit and I suppose retail was in my blood," he has said.
He opened the first Reiss store in 1971, aiming to fill the gap between expensive designer menswear and cheap, poorquality clothes. The brand offered elegant tailoring at accessible prices, took off quickly, and expanded into womenswear and stores worldwide.
This beloved brand started in 1957 when Samuel Tick, a poor Polish Jewish immigrant to Toronto, was working as a fabric cutter and decided to try making high-quality winter coats. He called the company Metro Sportswear and supplied parkas to better-known retailers, who put their own labels on the garments.
In time, Samuel began selling directly to consumers under the name Snow Goose. The parkas quickly earned a loyal following: Canada's Arctic Rangers, scientists at McMurdo Station in Antarctica, Ontario police officers, and Laurie Skreslet, the first Canadian to summit Mount Everest, who wore one on his climb. They all valued the coats' extraordinary resistance to cold.
Samuel's son-in-law David Reiss eventually took over, followed by his son Dani Reiss, who became CEO in 2001 at 27, fresh out of the University of Toronto where he'd studied literature and philosophy. He had no plans to run the family business long-term and knew he was young and inexperienced. He proved to have a sharp instinct for business anyway. He renamed the company Canada Goose and began marketing the coats not just to outdoor workers, but to city dwellers. The brand became a global phenomenon worn by celebrities worldwide.
Avec Les Filles
Avec Les Filles, French for "With the Girls", is focused on dressing Millennial women. It's the creation of Joyce Azria, an Orthodox Jewish designer and entrepreneur based in Florida.
Joyce learned fashion from her father, legendary designer Max Azria, who founded BCBG. After running BCBG, she stepped back to focus on her family. She and her husband Ilan Trojanowski have seven children. She launched Avec Les Filles in 2017, with the goal of bringing French-inspired style to a wider audience.
"I love Sandro, I love Maje," she said at the time, "but they are so high-end that I thought, 'I want a brand that brings me in at 18 bucks and is a little easier to digest’. What I strive to do with Avec les Filles is allow customers to indulge in an experience that's designer-led and authentic, but still feels playful."
Growing up, Shabbat dinner was a central family ritual for Joyce. She made sure it remained the cornerstone of her own family's week too. Despite running an international business, she insists what truly brings her joy is family and spirituality. "On Shabbat, I leave behind the business world and focus on my family and my relationship with God. I am fortunate that I'm not a slave to my work."
Teri Jon
This upscale American brand has an international origin: its founder and chief designer, Rickie Freeman-Platt, was born in Israel and draws inspiration from the real lives of her customers, guided by the belief that "every woman should have the opportunity to look great, no matter what size or body shape she has."
Rickie moved to New York at 17 and worked for Jewish fashion designers Evan Picone and Elie Tahari before founding Teri Jon, a high-fashion brand specialiszing in special occasion dresses, in 1978, An intensely private person, Rickie rarely gives interviews. Her philanthropy speaks for her. A board member of Stern College for Women, she opens her home and business to Jewish charities and actively campaigns for Jewish and Zionist causes.
ALAN BENDER SOUL GOURMET
Basque cheesecake is all about simplicity. No biscuit base. No water bath. No stress. Just a deeply caramelised crust and a soft, rich centre. It’s meant to be imperfect, and that’s part of the charm. This chocolate version still gives you that signature dark top and creamy texture, but with the added decadence of dark chocolate. Serve it on its own, or with a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
What to serve with your cheesecake:
Fruit coulis or compotes – a tart berry coulis, like raspberry, blackberry or mixed berries adds brightness and cuts through the richness. Fresh fruit – berries, sliced figs, pomegranate, persimmon or plums add freshness and visual appeal.
Poached fruit – Figs or plums poached in wine or spiced syrup would be a delicious addition. Good-quality vanilla ice cream. I have also made this recipe with white chocolate.
Ingredients:
150 grams good-quality dark chocolate 70% cocoa solids or higher. This really makes a difference. You can substitute the dark chocolate with white chocolate.
250 ml (1 cup) heavy cream
150 grams (¾ cup) sugar
40 grams (⅓ cup) corn starch
½ tsp salt
2 tsp vanilla extract
500 grams Tempo Quarg
3 large free-range eggs
Instructions:
Step 1: Prep Your loaf tin
Preheat your oven to 180°C
Line a standard loaf tin with a crumpled sheet of baking paper, allowing it to overhang the sides. That gives it that signature rustic look and makes removing the cake easier.
Step 2: Melt the chocolate
Melt the chocolate using a double boiler (or heatproof bowl) over a pot of simmering water. Once melted, stir in the cream until smooth and glossy. Set aside to cool slightly.
Step 3: Mix the dry ingredients
In a food processor, pulse together the sugar, corn starch, salt, and vanilla. Add the cream cheese and blend until completely smooth. Scrape down the sides of the bowl, as needed.
Step 4: Add the eggs
Add the eggs one at a time, pulsing until each is fully incorporated. Don’t rush this step. Make wwwsure the batter stays smooth throughout.
Step 5: Combine
Pour the cooled chocolate and cream mixture into the batter and pulse again until well combined. Scrape down the bowl one last time.
Step 6: Bake
Pour the mixture into the prepared loaf tin and smooth the top with a spatula. Tap it gently on the counter to remove air bubbles. Bake for 40–45 minutes. After 20–25 minutes, loosely cover with foil if it’s browning too quickly. It should have a slight jiggle in the centre when done. Allow to cool fully in the tin. Chill in the fridge if making ahead of time, covered in cling wrap.
Storage instructions:
Store the cheesecake in the fridge, wellwrapped or in an airtight container, for up to five days.
Bring to room temperature before serving.
Servings: 8
Friday, May 15, 2026
Shabbat ends, May 16, 2026
May 22, 2026
Shabbat ends, May 23, 2026
pm Friday, May 29, 2026
Shabbat ends, May 30, 2026 5:35 pm
Friday, Jun 5, 2026 4:35 pm
Shabbat ends, Jun 6, 2026 5:34 pm
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Jewish answer: BIRCHAT. 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): ARCHAIC, ARTHRITIC, ATTACH, BATCH, BIRCH, BIRTH, BRACHA, CATCH, CATHARTIC, CHAIR, CHART, CHITCHAT, HABIT, HABITAT, HATCH, HIBACHI, HITCH, RABBAH, THATCH and TIRCHA.
Questions/comments/compliments: email Yoni at koshercrosswords@gmail.com
DAVID SOLOMON, CEO AUSTRALIAN FRIENDS OF TEL AVIV UNIVERSITY
In a world that rarely switches off, artificial light – from streetlights outside bedroom windows to the glow of screens late into the night – has become a constant companion. But new research from Tel Aviv University (TAU) suggests this modern convenience may come with a hidden biological cost. Even low levels of artificial light at night, equivalent to standard street lighting, could significantly disrupt the body’s immune system and increase the risk of death.
The study, conducted at TAU's Zoological Garden by researchers from the Faculty of Life Sciences and the New Environmental School, found that exposure to artificial light at night led to a striking 2.35-fold increase in mortality among small mammals. While the research focused on wild rodents, the implications extend far beyond the animals studied, as the biological mechanisms involved are shared across mammals, including humans. The research was supported by the Israel Science Foundation and published in Environmental Pollution.
At the heart of the findings is the body’s internal biological clock – a 24-hour system that regulates everything from sleep patterns to hormone production and immune function. This clock relies on the natural cycle of light and darkness to
stay in sync. When that cycle is disrupted, the consequences ripple across multiple systems in the body.
Under normal conditions, immune activity rises and falls throughout the day, preparing the body to respond optimally to threats. Precise timing is critical. But when the body is exposed to artificial light at night, these rhythms begin to break down.
As doctoral researcher Hagar VardiNaim explains, “Light pollution disrupts
the body’s internal clock, so the immune system loses its natural timing and, consequently, its response to infections, environmental stress or vaccination might be less than optimal, possibly increasing vulnerability over time.”
The implications extend beyond individual health. Weakened immune systems in wildlife could make animals more susceptible to disease, with potential knock-on effects for ecosystems and, even human, populations. As
aftau.asn.au
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environmental and human health become more closely intertwined, such disruptions may carry broader risks than previously understood.
Perhaps most concerning is the study’s link between disrupted biological rhythms and increased mortality. Although the exact cause of death in the animals could not be pinpointed, the strong association suggests that interference with the body’s internal timing systems may have serious, longterm consequences.
The findings challenge the way artificial light is typically viewed – not merely as a feature of modern life, but as an active environmental factor with measurable biological effects. Researchers at TAU argue that light pollution should be treated as a public health issue, requiring greater attention in urban planning and environmental policy.
As human activity continues to reshape the natural environment, studies like this highlight the importance of understanding those changes in realworld conditions. The rhythms of life have evolved over millions of years, in sync with the rising and setting of the sun. Altering that balance, even subtly, may have consequences we are only beginning to grasp.
