The Sydney Jewish Report | November Edition 2025

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Support our local Jewish community Fostering a closer Jewish community

Support our local Jewish community Fostering a closer Jewish community

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

AROUND THE COMMUNITY

More than 100 Jewish physicians recently attended the inaugural MedEx events in Melbourne and Sydney, as Israel expands its global medical recruitment drive. In a landmark step to address Israel’s critical shortage of doctors, Nefesh B’Nefesh, in partnership with Israel’s Ministry of Aliyah and Integration, Ministry of Health, Ministry of the Negev, Galilee, and National Resilience, in cooperation with The Jewish Agency for Israel, hosted the first-ever MedEx events in Australia, connecting Jewish doctors and healthcare professionals from across the country with Israel’s leading hospitals and national health networks.

These events are part of the International Medical Aliyah Program (IMAP), an initiative to streamline the professional integration process for doctors making Aliyah. These events provide a simplified, one-stop-shop experience that includes credential recognition, job interviews with Israel’s leading healthcare institutions, and guidance on grants, licensing and relocation.

Following successful MedEx events in Paris, London, Buenos Aires, Los Angeles and New Jersey, MedEx Australia marked the program’s first expansion into the Pacific region. This milestone reinforced Israel’s commitment to recruiting 2,000 new physicians over the next five years, with a focus on strengthening healthcare in the Negev and Galilee, bolstered by key partners, including the Marcus Foundation, the Gottesman Fund, Jewish Federations of North America, the Azrieli Foundation and Arison Foundation.

Physicians, ranging from young general practitioners to senior specialists, attended the inaugural Australian events, underscoring both the strength of the local Jewish medical community and Israel’s growing need for skilled professionals.

At the events, participants had the unique opportunity to virtually interview with representatives from Israel’s leading hospitals, such as Ichilov, Hadassah, Galilee Medical Center, Rambam, Kaplan and others, as well as all four health maintenance organisations (HMOs). These opportunities allowed participants to navigate the professional and bureaucratic process of Aliyah in a single day, greatly reducing barriers to entry for doctors considering immigration, before ever setting foot in Israel.

Across both cities, the atmosphere was described as professional, yet deeply communal, combining practical career engagement with a sense of shared purpose. Many doctors attended with family members, exploring not only professional pathways, but also education, housing and community integration options in Israel.

Participants in Melbourne gathered in the city’s vibrant Jewish hub, while the Sydney event attracted dozens of local physicians from fields including family medicine, pediatrics, internal medicine, psychiatry and emergency care. For

MedEx launches in Australia

many, the experience was as much about identity as it was about career –an opportunity to combine professional expertise with personal commitment to Israel’s future.

A notable proportion of attendees were early-career physicians, some in their 30s and 40s, who viewed Aliyah as a long-term professional and family decision. Others were mid-career specialists, motivated by the opportunity to contribute to underserved communities in Israel’s periphery.

Feedback from attendees highlighted the resourcefulness of the events, as well as gratitude for the chance to directly connect with hospital representatives and Ministry officials. Several noted that MedEx provided the encouragement and infrastructure they had long been seeking to seriously consider Aliyah.

Israel’s Minister of Aliyah and Integration, MK Ofir Sofer, who oversees national immigration policy and professional absorption, highlighted the significance of connecting directly with the Australian Jewish community at this time. “We continue to expand the activities of the International Medical Aliyah Program. I’m pleased to take part in these events in Australia, as we are grateful for the opportunity to meet with the local Jewish community. Unfortunately, as in other countries, the Jewish community in Australia is facing a sharp rise in antisemitic incidents. We expect the government and law enforcement authorities to act decisively and show zero tolerance toward this phenomenon,” Minister Sofer said.

“We are working to encourage Jewish people, especially now, to make Aliyah, be a part of Israel’s growth and success, and contribute to its future. The reforms we’ve implemented in the Ministry and the progress of our many initiatives are already being felt within the Australian community as well. I sincerely hope to hear of more families and young people taking this courageous step and fulfilling the Zionist vision.”

Since the launch of the International Medical Aliyah Program (IMAP) in 2022,

Nefesh B’Nefesh and its partners have supported hundreds of physicians in navigating the complex process of professional relocation to Israel. In 2024 alone, roughly 650 doctors made Aliyah, with the trend continuing strongly into 2025.

“MedEx events are more than informational sessions – they are bridges between professional aspiration and national need,” said Tony Gelbart, Co-Founder and Chairman of Nefesh B’Nefesh. “For doctors in Australia, MedEx provided a unique opportunity to begin their licensing and career journeys in their own hometowns. The physicians we met in Sydney and Melbourne are not only exceptional professionals, but also deeply motivated by a sense of purpose and connection to Israel. Their contributions will make a meaningful difference to the future of healthcare in Israel.”

From a national resilience perspective, Minister Yitzhak Wasserlauf, who leads Israel’s Ministry for the Negev, Galilee, and National Resilience, underscored how programs like MedEx strengthen not only Israel’s health infrastructure, but also its social fabric.

“Today, more than ever, the State of Israel needs skilled doctors in Tzfat, Kiryat Shmona, Be’er Sheva and Dimona. The Ministry for the Negev and Galilee is proud to be a partner and supporter of this important initiative, which turns Zionism into action by bringing outstanding medical professionals to strengthen hospitals and communities in the Negev, the Galilee and the Gaza border region,” Minister Wasserlauf said.

“This is another step in reinforcing our national resilience, not only in security, but also in health.”

Adding a broader perspective on the importance of Aliyah, Chairman of The Jewish Agency for Israel, Major General (Res.) Doron Almog, reflected on the enduring link between Israel and world Jewry. "Bringing Jewish doctors to Israel is a profound expression of modern Zionism, a Zionism of responsibility, mission and tikkun olam. Every Oleh who chooses to

make Aliyah demonstrates full trust and courage in the State of Israel, even in its most challenging times. This initiative is a living testament to mutual solidarity and the deep connection between Israel and world Jewry, a connection that continues to bring tremendous contributions to Israeli society,” Almog said.

“Immigration is a driver of national growth and integrating new Olim into the medical field and other areas is an essential part of building and restoring the State of Israel. The Jewish Agency, together with Nefesh B’Nefesh and the Ministry of Aliyah and Integration, will continue to support Olim and doctors on their new journey, ensuring they feel at home and can fully participate in shaping the future of the Jewish people in their land.”

MedEx Australia now joins a global movement of Jewish physicians contributing to Israel’s healthcare system – a movement that blends professional excellence with a shared sense of mission. By directly engaging Jewish professionals in the Diaspora, MedEx sends a powerful message: that building Israel’s future is a shared responsibility and opportunity.

For Israel, the need is urgent, but the vision is hopeful. The country’s population is expanding rapidly, and with it, the demand for accessible, highquality healthcare. Through initiatives like MedEx, Israel is ensuring that its hospitals and clinics remain staffed not only with world-class physicians, but also with professionals deeply connected to Jewish values and national purpose.

The expansion into Australia underscores a growing recognition of the global Jewish Diaspora’s role in strengthening Israel’s resilience – not just economically, but spiritually and socially. For Australia’s Jewish doctors, the impact of these first-ever local events will continue to resonate. Many left with tangible next steps toward relocation, others with a renewed sense of purpose and connection to Israel.

MedEx launches in Australia

These photos are from the International Medical Aliyah Program’s (IMAP) inaugural events in Melbourne and Sydney in October.

Sydney

CONSIDERED OPINION

DR DVIR ABRAMOVICH

Every generation thinks it has outgrown antisemitism. Every generation is wrong.  It returns each time, wearing the moral costume of the age, convinced of its righteousness, blind to its cruelty.

The same disease that filled the streets of Europe now fills social media posts, dressed in the clothes of justice, but carrying the same contagion. It wraps itself in the vocabulary of virtue and calls itself “anti-Zionism”.

Make no mistake, this is not a new movement. It is an old hatred, cloaked in ethical and righteous language. The same venom that once targeted Jews as a people now targets them through their state. It no longer says, “Jews don’t belong”. It says, “Israel doesn’t deserve to exist”.

That is the disguise.

The world has made hating Jews fashionable again by pretending it’s simply about the Palestinian cause. And in Australia, the infection has spread.

In the public square, “Zionist” and “Israeli” have become the new dirty words, the polite slur of the educated and uneducated. It seeps through social media feeds, newspaper articles, council meetings, street protests and newsrooms. Those who utter it claim they are merely opposing oppression or colonialism. But listen closely and you’ll hear the oldest melody of contempt.

To the anti-Israel crowd, “Zionist” and “Israeli” mean child killer. It means evil. It means parasite. It means everything their ancestors once meant by “Jew”. Antisemitism does not die. It mutates. It adapts to survive. In 2025, you can’t openly demonise Jews, but you can demonise Israel. You can demand its destruction, question its right to exist and call that “justice.”

You can shout “From the River to the Sea” and pretend it’s a plea for equality, not extermination. You can hold a sign that reads “Zionists not welcome” and be applauded for your conscience.

And you can convince yourself you are standing on the right side of history, while adopting the stance that gave us pogroms and the murder of Jews thorough history.

The past has updated its software. The script is familiar, only the facade is new. The world has found a new acceptable prejudice. To be anti-Israel today is to be fashionable in circles that would never call themselves antisemitic. The bigotry has been refined, repackaged and camouflaged in empathy. It creeps into the dinner tables of people that still believe they are good, those who quote human-rights charters.

But listen closely and you’ll hear the same ancient rhythm of blame beating beneath every speech. Once they spoke of cabals and conspiracies. Now they speak of lobbies and Zionists.

And somewhere in the middle of it all stands a tiny nation, smaller than Tasmania, surrounded by those that dream of its disappearance and a diaspora that bleeds each time its name is spat as a curse.

Since October 7, a virus long dormant has awakened with frightening intensity. The Hamas massacre did not unleash empathy – it unleashed permission. Across the West and here in Australia, the same contagion spread with mobs chanting “Globalise the Intifada” while

The new antisemitism: how ‘anti-Zionism’ became the world’s most acceptable prejudice

Jewish schools, shops and synagogues braced for attack.

A conflict half a world away became an excuse for ancient hate to crawl back into the light. And everywhere, the lie was identical: “We’re not antisemitic. We’re just anti-Zionist.”

But anti-Zionism is antisemitism. Always was. It denies Jews alone what it grants to every other people on earth, which is the right to self-determination. It judges the world’s only Jewish state by standards no other nation could survive. It demands its dismantling, then calls the dream of Jews being safe in their own country “racism”. That is not criticism. That is erasure.

And it has consequences. Today, young Jews are told to renounce Zionism if they want to fit into progressive spaces. On social media, those who post about Israel are branded murderers. Jewish artists are uninvited, Jewish businesses boycotted and Jewish symbols ripped down.

The message is unmistakable: you don’t have to be Israeli or Jewish to be condemned. Caring is enough. In this new order, even empathy is treated as complicity. The hatred has widened its net. It no longer hunts faith alone; it hunts connection. Anyone who defends Israel’s right to exist, who dares to say that Israel has the right to protect its citizens, is demonised and vilified.

This is not about Gaza or the Palestinians. It is about identity. It is about telling Jews they are only conditionally accepted. That unless they disassociate from Israel, publicly join the chorus that delegitimises it, they will be shunned. Jews can belong only if they amputate the part of themselves that connects to Israel.

This is not a debate. It is ideological cleansing, a purification that insists there is no room for Jews who refuse to apologise for merely existing or for loving Israel. In this new hierarchy of virtue, Jews have been reassigned:

from victims to villains, from survivors of genocide to its supposed perpetrators.

The descendants of those that buried their families in European soil are now branded colonisers in their ancestral home. This grotesque rewriting of history isn’t activism. It’s antisemitism, with better marketing.

It is the deepest irony of our time. Those who call Jews “colonisers” are the ones colonising Jewish identity with their hatred. They obliterate three thousand years of history and replace it with a dehumanising hashtag. They chant for liberation while condemning the only nation on earth that ever freed Jews from bondage.

They claim to speak for peace while celebrating murder.

In Melbourne, Sydney, London and New York, the scene is the same. Slogans of liberation echo through megaphones that drown out Jewish grief. The chants may change language, but the message never does: Jewish pain counts for less.

And so, a moral fever has taken hold. Those who post “Never Again” on Holocaust Remembrance Day share memes calling Israel a Nazi state. The selfproclaimed guardians of conscience now march beside those that glorify terrorists. This is the moral inversion of our age. The arsonists posing as firefighters, the haters parading as champions of compassion.

Every compass that once pointed toward decency now spins without direction. Human-rights groups that once defended minorities excuse mobs calling for Jewish blood or ignore the sexual crimes committed by Hamas against Israeli women. Progressives who see racism everywhere go blind when it concerns antisemitism. It’s a carnival of counterfeit conscience.

And it works because it is subtle. It begins and spreads by convincing the next generation that supporting Israel is shameful, that being Jewish is suspect. It leaves young Jews standing alone,

forced to justify their identity to a crowd that demands repentance for inclusion. It thrives in institutions that preach acceptance, in movements that promise equality, in spaces that claim to fight oppression. And that is why it is so dangerous, because it hides behind good intentions, because it sounds enlightened, because it insists it hates only injustice and then points at the Jew.

There is now a quiet ritual of vigilance that shapes Jewish life. Before saying your name, you hesitate. You calculate whether a Hebrew syllable might give you away. You pause before mentioning that you have family in Tel Aviv, that you once studied in Jerusalem, that you visited the Western Wall.

You weigh the risk of wearing a Star of David, a Kippah, or a small map of Israel around your neck, wondering who will notice and what it might unleash. Because today, such ordinary acts have become dangerous admissions. A name, a necklace, a Jewish item of faith, an accent – any of them can turn a conversation into an inquisition.

You never quite know what will follow: a silence, a smirk, a tirade, a physical attack. Each disclosure feels like detonating a social landmine, the blast radius of which you cannot predict. To be Jewish or Israeli in this climate is to live on alert. You carry your awareness like a second skin, in the classroom, the supermarket, the cafe, the bar and in the workplace. There are no truly safe spaces anymore, only degrees of caution.

This is what anti-Zionism and antiIsraelism have created in Australia. They have turned identity into a liability and belonging into exposure. They have made ordinary life a series of calculations about what is safe to reveal and what must remain hidden. It is not freedom when even your own name feels like a risk.

The moral test of a society is not how loudly it proclaims justice, but whom it sacrifices to preserve its illusions of purity. Right now, Jews are that sacrifice. They are told their grief is inconvenient, their history oppressive, their identity negotiable.

This new antisemitism is more sophisticated than the old kind, but no less deadly in spirit. It does not burn books; it cancels speakers. It does not boycott shops with Jewish stars; it boycotts anything Israeli. It does not call Jews “vermin”; it calls them “colonisers”. But it ends in the same place: exclusion, humiliation, fear and the firebombing of synagogues.

Confronting antisemitism demands something rarer than outrage. It demands honesty. And honesty means saying what so many fear to admit: that anti-Zionism and anti-Israelism are not movements for justice. They are wars on truth itself.

]We cannot fight this darkness with half measures or whispered disapproval. Australia must find its courage again, or watch its soul and character disappear.

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

CONSIDERED OPINION

ANNE-MARIE ELIAS

As we celebrate the return of the 20 hostages, I reflect on how the trauma they experienced may affect them going forward.

Many people experience traumatic events, although what one person finds traumatic, another may not.

The American Psychological Association (APA) describes trauma as ‘any disturbing experience that results in significant fear, helplessness, dissociation, confusion or other disruptive feelings, intense enough to have a long-lasting, negative effect on a person’s attitudes, behaviour or other aspects of functioning.

Once a traumatic event is over, a person can be left with a response mechanism that manifests as stress. For example, a soldier that was on the front line may be in the supermarket when they hear a sound that they interpret as gunfire. Before they can consciously determine what that sound is, they ‘hit the deck’.

On realising that there is no danger, they may feel embarrassed by their immediate response.

Health professionals working in the trauma field have realised that trauma can affect the brain’s emotion networks, resulting in over or under-reactions to stressful situations. Research has shown that trauma creates fixed neural networks isolated from other parts of the brain and, therefore, resistant to change.

When the brain is hijacked

A strategy used by many that have experienced trauma is avoidance. They may avoid certain people, places or events. While, in theory, this appears to help them, in practice avoidance doesn’t work and can create more damage by not allowing the brain to heal and preventing neural pathways from forming. A traumatised person triggered by an emotionally upsetting or physically challenging situation can enter a state of flight, fight or freeze. They may run away, rage or shut down.

This response is known as an ‘amygdala hijack’, a term coined by psychologist Daniel Goleman in 1995. The solider I referred to earlier may experience an amygdala hijack, which is a fast, intense

emotional reaction disproportionate to the situation – one in which the brain’s emotional machinery (the amygdala) essentially takes over, before the thinking brain can intervene.

Goleman used the term to illustrate how, under strong arousal, the emotional brain can overwhelm the rational brain.

Typical emotional signs of trauma include anger, fear, anxiety and panic. After the fact, people often report regret, embarrassment or guilt.

Because the hijack bypasses slower, rational processing, their reaction can leave the person surprised at their own behaviour when they “come to”. Physical signs of trauma include a racing heart, sweaty or clammy skin, dilated pupils,

goosebumps, trembling or shaking, fast shallow breathing and muscle tensing.

Sometimes people are also unable to think clearly (a narrowing of attention or tunnel vision), as rational thought temporarily shuts down. As a result, people with traumatic histories or ongoing stress may overreact to everyday triggers, struggle with emotional regulation and experience more frequent hijacks. This can create a feedback loop in which reactivity worsens stress and reduces the brain’s capacity to regulate emotions.

Still, there are occasions when these amygdala responses can be useful in everyday life. I refer to a survival response. For example, jumping out of the way of a speeding car.

To cope with the amygdala hijack response Goleman suggests the following strategies:

• Name or acknowledge the emotion.

• Pause before responding.

• Controlled, slow diaphragmatic breathing.

• Change the setting, that is stepping away (for example, moving to another room, taking a short walk, or simply focusing on something calming).

• Sharing the mental load (talking through the situation with a family member, friend or therapist.

• Practising mindfulness.

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

CONSIDERED

The butterfly and the silence Last year, I invited an Iraqi writer and his wife to dinner. He is a quiet man, thoughtful, a poet delicate as a butterfly, softly-spoken – the kind who writes about sky, harmony and galaxies, a man of letters and, seemingly, of reason. We had never spoken about Jewish identity or Israel before, though he knew who I was.

At the table, the conversation meandered – politics, culture, G-d. Eventually, we arrived at Gaza, as everyone now does. I did not press him on the brutality of October 7. I only asked him to say what he thought, but he would not. He avoided the question. I asked again, in another form. Still nothing. Only a smile.

Then, I shifted the ground entirely. I posed a question that required no ideological stance, no politics, no theology. I asked, ‘Regardless of whether you’re religious or an atheist, do you accept that the Tanakh, the Hebrew Bible, the Books of the Prophets, what is known as the Old Testament, is a historical document that points to a Jewish presence in that land thousands of years ago?’ He still said nothing.

This is a man who studies Islamic texts, speaks of the Qur’an with familiarity, and discusses ancient Arabic poetry with insight. He knows the power of written sources; he knows what textual history means. But when it came to the Hebrew Bible, not as scripture, not even as truth, but merely as documented memory, he could not bring himself to speak.

I pressed again: ‘You deal with texts every day. Islamic history. Arabic tradition. Why can’t the Old Testament count, for you, as an evidence of manifesting a Jewish history?’

Still, nothing.

This was not an argument; he wasn’t hostile; he was simply mute, the kind of silence that isn’t ignorance, but fear.

His wife, sitting beside him, tried to smooth things over. ‘I believe in selfdetermination,’ she said. ‘For everyone,’ I asked, ‘Do you believe the Jews deserve a land of their own?’ She hesitated. ‘Everyone,’ she repeated. I asked again, directly: ‘Do the Jews deserve a country?’ She would not answer. I waited. Eventually, she said ‘yes’. I said, ‘Then you are a Zionist.’ They were both unsettled, not because I had said something shocking, but because I had named something they had been taught not to name.

That evening revealed something important. Among many educated Arabs, even for the gentlest, the word ‘Zionism’ remains unutterable. Even the most basic historical fact, that Jews lived on that land thousands of years ago, and remember it still, cannot be admitted.

This is not hatred. It is something else: an ingrained reaction – a silence passed down, reinforced by politics, ideology and fear. And it is this silence, not bombs, not slogans, that will ensure the conflict continues.

A quiet refusal, a loud history

Zionism, memory and the tutored hush

There is perhaps no word in the modern political lexicon more maligned, more misunderstood and more deliberately distorted than Zionism. Among large parts of the Arab world, and increasingly in Western discourse, it has become shorthand for everything evil. It is used as an accusation, never as a description.

At that dinner, my friend’s wife was somewhat shocked … as if she had been tricked.

As if the word itself was a trap. That is how deeply the term has been corrupted. Zionism, once the name for a national movement rooted in survival, memory and return, has been turned into a slur, used not just to criticise Israeli policy, but to deny Jewish legitimacy altogether.

Let us be clear about what Zionism is: it is the belief that the Jewish people, like any other, have the right to self-determination in their ancestral homeland. It is not a claim of superiority. It is not a licence for oppression. It is a national project, like those of every other modern people who sought to reclaim land, language and political independence after centuries of dispossession.

This should not be controversial. And yet, among many Arabs, even those who claim to support Kurdish independence, even those who speak of Palestinian nationhood, the idea that Jews should have a state of their own

offer not embrace, but permission. And permission, too, has conditions.

Among Arab intellectuals, it has become customary to speak on behalf of the stateless. The Palestinian cause is elevated with righteous urgency. It is not merely political, it is moral. To oppose it is to risk exile from the circles of virtue. The Kurdish cause, by contrast, is spoken of only when convenient. It is praised as ancient, but rarely defended as urgent. It is tolerated as culture, never championed as future.

And then there is the Jew. When Jewish identity asserts its right to sovereignty, it is met not with complexity, but with refusal. Not reasoned refusal, categorical refusal. Zionism is not debated. It is condemned. Not as one nationalism among many, but as the one nationalism that must not be. Even as others are blessed, it alone is cursed.

What happens, then, to the Kurdish Jew? He exists outside the script. His Kurdishness is admissible, but only when cleansed of Jewish return. His Jewishness is admissible, but only when severed from the land. He is welcomed, only in parts.

And parts are not persons. This is not marginalisation. It is ‘moral fragmentation’. The gesture of halfrecognition is not a compromise. It is an erasure by softer means.

remains offensive. Why? Because they were never taught what Zionism is. They were taught what it isn’t. They were told it was imperialism.

That it was theft. That it was Western colonisation. That it was a foreign body implanted into the Arab world.

These ideas were not organically formed, they were cultivated. Repeated. Institutionalised. Arab nationalism, Ba’athist ideology and religious extremism all contributed to a culture in which Jews were only acceptable as victims, never as a sovereign people.

So, when I used the word that night, it shocked them.

Not because it was hateful, but because it forced them to confront what they had avoided. Zionism was no longer a curse hurled on television. It was the simple principle behind the sentence to which they had just agree.

That is why the word had to be torn from its meaning.

Because if it were allowed to mean what it actually means, then millions of people would have to admit they’ve been wrong.

And for many, that is too much to bear. For someone who writes about galaxies, he couldn’t navigate a basic moral question.

Welcome, only as a half Some solidarities arrive not as recognition, but as negotiation. They

The Kurdish Jew is asked to bring only the wounds that fit. The rest must remain hidden. He is allowed to mourn genocide, but not to return. Allowed to chant heritage, but not to stand in his wholeness. The solidarity he receives is conditional: support for the Kurdish self, but silence, or suspicion, toward the Jewish one. And so he walks through conversations as a fractured figure. His presence tolerated, his fullness inconvenient. But a person cannot live in halves. Not morally. Not metaphysically.

Justice, to mean anything, must be whole. A solidarity that refuses the fullness of the self is not solidarity. It is a fake performance of inclusion that demands self-editing to remain legible. To support one and not the other is not wisdom. It is fear, dressed as delicacy. And fear, too, has a silence. But it is not the silence of mystery. It is the silence of erasure.

In the end, it is the smallest scene that discloses the largest truth: a dinner table, a word withheld, a history treated as contraband. Zionism, stripped of its scare-quotes and scare-stories, returns to what it always was, a workmanlike claim of a people to come home, to speak in their own voice without permissions. The Kurdish Jew, required to file himself in parts, stands as witness to the fraud of curated solidarities.

Against the tutored hush, memory persists: ledgers of covenant, ruins underfoot, a language reacquired. Call this not dominion, but restoration: the scattered pieces housed under one roof and doors left open.

Renowned Arab Affairs correspondent Ohad Hemo will visit Australia for a series of events hosted by UIA Australia in Sydney, Melbourne and Perth.

Hemo is one of Israel’s most experienced and respected investigative journalists, covering the Middle East and focusing on the West Bank and Gaza Strip. In 2021, he received Israel’s Sokolov Prize, the nation’s highest honour for journalism, in recognition of his groundbreaking reporting.

What makes Hemo’s voice so distinctive is his rare access. Over decades, he has developed deep relationships with leading figures across the Palestinian territories, from the PLO and Palestinian Authority to senior officials within Hamas and Islamic Jihad. His unique position enables him to provide the Israeli public with credible information and nuanced insights into how the Arab world views Israel, the conflict and the fragile movements toward peace.

Ohad Hemo offers a unique insight into the Arab world

Method:

Peel and slice thinly the granny smith apples.

UIA Australia CEO Yair Miller OAM says Hemo’s visit could not come at a more important juncture. “At a time when every development in the region is felt so personally within our community, Ohad brings clarity and context that few others can. His analysis helps us understand how our neighbours view these unfolding negotiations and what the current ceasefire and peace discussions truly mean from the Arab world’s perspective.

The AGM events will also include a report back on the impact over the year, showcasing how Australian support continues to change lives for the People of Israel. Preliminary announcements

Hemo will speak at a series of events across Australia, including UIA’s AGMs and 2026 Campaign launches in Sydney and Melbourne, as well as community gatherings in Sydney and Perth.

will also be made about UIA’s 2026 Campaign events.

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

Sprinkle with cinnamon sugar.

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

Yair explained the format of the event saying, “our AGM’s are not just about reviewing the past years activities – they’re about accountability and impact. We want our supporters to see the tangible outcomes their contributions create for the

People of Israel, especially during such incredibly dynamic and difficult times.” Through this national tour, Hemo’s visit promises to give Australian audiences an unfiltered look into how the Arab world, including key stakeholders in Egypt, Saudi Arabia, Iran and the Palestinian Territories, are responding to this critical moment in Israel’s history and how understanding those perspectives can help strengthen our own connection, resolve and unity.

Event details are as follows:

North Shore briefing – Tuesday, 11th November at 7.45pm AGM & 2026 Campaign launch –Wednesday, 12th November at 7.30pm

To book, visit uiaaustralia.org.au/ upcoming-events

DAVID SCHULBERG CONSIDERED OPINION

Pro-Israel activist Ran Bar-Yoshafat is a special forces soldier, author, attorney, historian and international speaker. Married on October 11, 2023, he returned to the battlefield the very next day.

After nearly 400 days of reserve duty on Israel's frontlines – in Gaza, Lebanon and along Israel's borders – Ran brings powerful firsthand insights, untold stories and hard-won lessons from Israel's war against terrorism.

David

The irony is that now there's a plan for peace, but when I look on Facebook in the quarters where the pro-Palestinian supporters congregate, they're saying that we need to continue protesting … we need to eradicate Israel once and for all. They're complaining about genocide on the one hand, but they're really wanting to commit genocide against Israel. That's what's revealed by the way they are speaking at the moment.

Ran

I'm not surprised. That's been their tactic all along. They're willing to sacrifice as many Palestinians as needed, as long as they can eradicate Israel. That's not a new concept. That has always been the case.

David What has changed for you since we last spoke more than four years ago?

Ran

The two main things in my life are that I became a husband and I became a father, which are the two most important things in my life. It wasn't under the best circumstances. I got married on the fourth day of the war. On October 7, I went to the south.

It was Motza'ei Shabbat. I called my fiancée and asked her, what are we going to do? Are we going to continue with the wedding? Are we going to postpone? Apparently, that very question was asked during the Yom Kippur War and the answer is that there's only one person that makes that decision and that is the kallah, the bride. If she says you continue with the wedding, you continue. If she says you postpone, you postpone. My wife said, let's continue. On the fourth day of the war, I left the army base. We didn't have the venue that we were expecting to have. We got married in a very small charity hall with a small number of people. The next day I went back to the army. My wife is a new immigrant to the state of Israel; she has no family here. It was a very difficult time for both of us – more for her than for me. The second most meaningful thing that has happened is that I became a father, while I was in Gaza. After several stints in Gaza, in the north, in Judea and Samaria, different places, again in Gaza, my wife was nine months pregnant. I left my car right by the border. When I got the call that she's in labour, I had a special convoy that drove me to the border. I got into my car and drove as fast as I could. I was able to make it to the birth and the bris. Straight after, I went back to Gaza. I left my wife with a newborn. Even though we have just celebrated our second year anniversary, we still haven’t spent one year together!

IDF heroes defending Israel

David

You've served almost 400 days of reserve duty. Could you describe what you've experienced during that long period of time?

Ran

I'll tell you what I saw in Gaza. It's very interesting. I'm a hawkish Israeli. People completely different than me all have had the same experience. This was a little surprising for me. Every house I went to in Gaza, without exception had ammunition, grenades, explosives, rocket launchers, Nazi propaganda or antiIsrael material. I remember there was one house, a beautiful house with some trees in the yard. I thought maybe this is a normal family, because initially we couldn't find any guns. Then someone said that the floor felt strange. Someone took a hammer and broke the floor. There they found an M16 wrapped in an Israeli shirt.

It's sad. By the way, I know a lot of people are saying there are no innocent people in Gaza. I don't think that's the case. A threemonth-old baby is not a terrorist. There are innocent people in Gaza and it is a tragedy for every innocent person that was killed in the war. However, what people don't understand is how many terrorists you actually have in Gaza. And it's not just the 40,000 terrorists of Hamas. There are about 14 other terrorist organisations in Gaza, including Islamic Jihad and a very small group of ISIS members. When October 7th happened, Hamas was reported to have around 40,000 terrorists with Hamas membership cards. Today too, Hamas has about 40,000 terrorists.

They were able to fill the ranks in a heartbeat, because there are a lot of people who are terrorists in Gaza, just unaffiliated. You go to their house and you see that they're Hamas supporters. They have an AK-47, they have grenades; they're just not assigned to a certain area.

In Gaza, there are so many hospitals –dozens of hospitals. Israel doesn't have so many hospitals. I'm not sure in America you have that many hospitals. The only problem with these hospitals is that I've never seen any medical equipment.

One’s called the Jordanian hospital, another the Iraqi hospital, another the Indonesian hospital – the names of different hospitals I've heard about.

I saw in these hospitals, and I should also include schools and mosques, what I saw in the houses. Every building you

expected to be booby-trapped. We knew that every hospital, mosque and school was going to have many explosives in it, even rocket launchers. I lost a friend in Beit Hanoun who was killed not far from me when he went into a mosque.

The mosque had a camera that looked at the soldiers. When they entered, the camera was connected underground a few hundred metres away. Terrorists detonated the mosque, collapsing it on the soldiers, killing four. One of them is the son of the current Israeli ambassador to the U.S., Major (Res.) Moshe Yedidya Leiter.

That was my experience, very different than what you hear in the pro-Palestinian protests. I'll share maybe one more thing from Gaza. When I was in the Nitzarim corridor, we had intel of what the Arabs were saying to one another.

One afternoon, I heard that they were saying they’d just killed 50 IDF soldiers in the Nitzarim corridor. I was an officer situated at the Nitzarim corridor. I was asking whether anyone was hurt. Was there even an attack? Did they fire artillery today? Did they shoot? They're saying that they killed 50 IDF soldiers. Apparently, no. That's what they wrote in Arabic to the Arab world. They said that they had killed IDF soldiers. Not only was no one killed, no one was injured; there had not been any attack against the IDF forces at that location.

The same day, the IDF took down a terrorist from the Zeitoun area, near

Shuja'iyya, an area known for Hamas terrorists in Gaza.

When you kill a terrorist today, you must have absolute clarity to be certain you're not killing a civilian. You have a drone with a camera that zooms in on the person's face. I will know the person's name, his ID number, what his part was on October 7th. The IDF killed a terrorist in my area. It wasn't us, but it was in my area. A few minutes later, I see that Hamas is publishing in English that the IDF just killed a five-yearold girl. Now, that's a very interesting fiveyear-old girl with a beard. Her name was Jihad and she was 25, equivalent to a company officer of Hamas in the Zeitoun area. They were lying, saying whatever they wanted. Connect this to what has been happening in the streets, on college campuses and on social media.

The truth has zero meaning. They can say whatever they want. I just saw that people are using Golda Meir's quote, you know the one that says when the Arabs will love their children more than they hate us, we will have peace. I'm now seeing anti-Israel people saying when the Jews will love their children more than they hate the Arabs, we'll have peace. It's crazy!

David Shulberg can be heard each week on ‘The Israel Connexion’ program on J-AIR community radio and on 2Triple0 in Sydney.

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 Jewish word will use all seven letters.

Proper names and hyphenated words are not allowed. Score one point for each answer and three points each for a Jewish term and word that uses all seven letters.

Rating: 6 = Good; 9 = Excellent; 12 = Genius

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

ANSWERS PAGE 18

THE COMMUNITY

When people speak about SAJE (Sydney Academy for Jewish Education), they don’t just talk about a conversion program. They talk about a movement, a growing, thriving initiative that has redefined the journey to Judaism for dozens of people across Sydney. At its heart are three people – Rav Shua Solomon, Candice Wermut and Ronni Meyerson – who have helped shape, nurture and guide SAJE to what it is today.

The Sydney Jewish Report spoke with Candie and Ronni to gain insights into the story behind SAJE … what makes it different and their hopes for its future.

What motivated you to start SAJE?

Candice Wermut (manager): Shua and I were approached to help bring to life Harry Triguboff’s vision of a streamlined conversion process. Having spent years at the Beth Din, I’d listened to countless stories from converts about how long, lonely and, sometimes, discouraging the process could be. I knew this was something we could change. SAJE was born from the belief that the journey to Judaism could, and should, be more structured, supportive and empowering.

What do you believe SAJE offers?

Ronni Meyerson (administration): SAJE offers a modern and inclusive approach to conversion, which is what sets it apart.

The faces behind SAJE

People don’t feel like they’re going through the process in isolation. They feel like they’re part of something bigger, like a family. The weekly Wednesday evening classes, whether in person or online, are more than just lessons. They’re a cornerstone of connection. Students form real bonds, sharing their journeys not just in class, but daily, often through WhatsApp groups that become emotional lifelines.

That sense of community is rare and special, especially in a process that can often feel deeply isolating.

Candice: SAJE follows the Sydney Beth Din curriculum, but delivers it in a group learning format. That shared experience makes all the difference. Students aren’t alone.

They learn alongside others, grow together and support each other, with guidance from the SAJE team and a diverse range of community teachers. We’ve brought in multiple voices to ensure students receive a rich, wellrounded view of Jewish life and learning. Why is SAJE different from the conventional conversion program?

Candice: Previously, conversion meant private, one-on-one learning for an indefinite amount of time. That format had its benefits, but it lacked structure and a sense of momentum. SAJE introduced a 12-month group learning program, which doesn’t promise immediate conversion, but provides a clear path forward. Students move at a steady pace and we aim to prepare them for conversion when they are truly ready.

We’ve also worked hard to involve as many teachers and rabbis from the community as possible. This isn’t just about learning from one person. It’s about being welcomed into the broader community and hearing many voices.

Did you ever expect SAJE to grow so quickly?

Candice: Never. We’re now onto our fourth class, with over 150 people involved over that period. It’s been incredibly humbling to see how many people want to be part of this journey. And, for me, it’s never felt like a job – I truly love it. The growth shows just how needed this program was.

What are your aspirations?

Candice: I want SAJE to keep growing. Our Jewish community needs to grow. We need to be more united than ever and embrace those who choose to join us. We’re seeing people who are passionate, committed, and inspired –what a gift that is to our community.

After 736 days in captivity, the last 20 Israeli hostages are home – frail, scarred, but free. These are their stories of survival, loss, and return.

For two long years the entire Jewish people prayed for them. We demonstrated for them, lit extra Shabbat candles for them, reminded others of their plight, wore hostage pins, yellow ribbons and counted the long days of their captivity. At long last, the 20 remaining living hostages were freed by Hamas on Monday, October 13.

Here are portraits of these final prisoners we’ve prayed for over 736 terrible days.

Avinatan Or

Avinatan Or, 32, grew up with six brothers in the town of Shilo and studied electrical engineering at BarIlan University. Before his kidnapping he lived in Tel Aviv, worked for Nvidia and was seriously dating his girlfriend, Noa Argamani. On October 7, he and Noa attended the Nova music festival together.

When Hamas terrorists overran the festival, Avinatan and Noa hid in a ditch for hours. After massacring hundreds of festivalgoers, terrorists found them and filmed themselves abducting the terrified couple. Footage of Noa being carried into Gaza on the back of a motorcycle, her arms outstretched toward Avinatan, became one of the iconic images of that terrible day.

Israeli soldiers rescued Noa and three other hostages on June 8, 2024 – 245 days after their kidnapping. She and other released hostages described seeing Avinatan in captivity, held in a dungeon and denied food and water. When Avinatan was released – wearing a military-style “uniform” forced on him by Hamas – he appeared emaciated.

Ariel and David Cunio

Brothers Ariel and David Cunio grew up in Nir Oz, where they still lived as adults. Their parents and grandparents were born in Argentina and moved to Israel 40 years ago to fulfill their dreams of living in the Jewish state. (On October 7, 2023, Ariel’s and David’s great-greatgrandmother Esther gained fame by averting her own kidnapping by bonding with her Hamas captors over Argentinian soccer.)

David Cunio, 33, is an acclaimed actor. On October 7 he huddled in his family’s safe room with his wife Sharon and their twin daughters (now four years old), Julie and Emma, and with Sharon’s sister and niece. For hours, David fortified the safe room door with his own body as Hamas terrorists roamed through Nir Oz, killing 47 of the town’s civilians and destroying nearly every building. Eventually, Hamas terrorists set the Cunios’ home on fire. David and his daughter Julie escaped first through a window and were immediately captured. Terrorists dragged the other family members out through a window. David, Sharon and Julie were brought as captives into Gaza together; two-yearold Emma was kidnapped separately. Sharon, Julie and Emma were freed in a truce six weeks later; for the past two years the family has waited for David. The only news they received in that time was that David was being held underground. Sharon reports that Julie and Emma are

Meet the 20 hostages who returned home

traumatised and have been longing to see their dad.

Ariel, 28, is a computer scientist. He lived in Nir Oz with his partner Arbel Yehoud, who recalled that before Hamas’ attack the small town of Nir Oz felt like “our private paradise”. Ariel had just returned from a trip to South America, where his extended family is from. He and Arbel had just adopted a puppy. Before they were taken hostage on October 7, Ariel texted his three older brothers that he felt like he was in a “horror movie”.

Eitan Horn

Born in Argentina, Eitan (“Eitu”) Horn, 39, made Aliyah at age 16 and devoted his life to helping other people navigate the transition to living in Israel. “One of the most notable things about him was his happiness,” said Leila Banchik, who moved from Argentina to Israel and was helped by Eitan. “A cheerful man who was always making jokes, bringing laughs and spreading good vibes.”

After Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, Eitan immediately volunteered to work with Ukrainian children who were being airlifted to Israel. “We told him, ‘But you don’t know the language!’”, recalled Dalia Cusnir-Horn, Eitan’s sister-in-law, “and he said, ‘These children are scared and coming here for safety. This is what the nation of Israel was founded on and I will be that safe place for them.’”

Eitan lived in Israel’s north, but had made a surprise visit to see his brother in Kibbutz Nir Oz over the holiday weekend. He was kidnapped, along with his brother, Yair, who was released during a ceasefire last February. Eitan’s father Izik said, “I will hug him tight. I guess I will cry. I will remind him how much I love him,” once Eitan was released. A rotund man before his kidnapping, photos of Eitan’s release show him frail-looking and thin.

Alon Ohel

Alon Ohel, 24, is a gifted musician who began playing piano when he was nine years old. He’d been accepted into the Rimon School of Music in Jerusalem and was planning to start in October 2023.

Alon went to the Nova music festival with friends: Eliya Cohen, Or Levy and Hersh Goldberg-Polin. When Hamas terrorists attacked the festival, Alon, Eliya, Or, Hersh and about 30 other Jews crammed into a roadside bomb shelter. Hamas terrorists hurled grenades into the shelter, killing those near the front of the tiny structure, then shot inside. Those who remained alive hid under the corpses of their friends.

Finally, after hours of attacks, Hamas terrorists kidnapped Alon, along with his friends. They were held in Gaza in a cramped, pitch-black tunnel. Eliya Cohen, who was released after six months, described the conditions he, Alon and other Jews were held in: their legs were chained together with motorcycle chains. They weren’t allowed to shower or brush their teeth; four hostages shared a small piece of pita bread and one can of beans each day. Before Eliya was released, he hugged Alon Ohel and cried, knowing that Alon was remaining in such terrible conditions.

Alon is in poor physical condition and appears to be blind or nearly blind in his right eye. His family had a piano placed in his hospital room in Beilinson Hospital in Tel Aviv. His mother, Idit Ohal, described how just a few hours after being released from captivity, “he sat down at the piano in his room and played a bit, after two years without touching a piano.”

Omri Miran

On October 7, 2023, Omri Miran, now 47, a shiatsu therapist and gardener, huddled in his home’s safe room with his wife, Lishay Miran-Lavi, and their two daughters: Roni, who was two at the time, and Alma, who was six months old. Hamas terrorists grabbed one of the Miran’s neighbours, held him at gunpoint, and told him they would shoot him unless he asked the Mirans to open the door. They did so and the entire family was kidnapped. The terrorists livestreamed three hours of the ordeal on Facebook, during which they pointed guns at, and threatened to kill, the terrified family.

Later, Omri was transferred to Gaza while Lishay and the children were released. In Gaza, Omri was held in a combination of private apartments and in underground tunnels. His family have tirelessly campaigned for his release. Lishay recounted having to teach their younger daughter Alma how to say abba (father in Hebrew) alone and tried to draw attention to Omri’s dual status as an Israeli and a Hungarian national to stir up additional interest in her husband’s kidnapping. Omri’s father, Dani, who’s nearly 80, has devoted his entire life for the past two years to helping other families of hostages. He moved to a rental apartment in Tel Aviv, near Hostage Square, the informal memorial across the street from the Tel Aviv Museum of Art, which became a centre of information and vigils for the hostages, and volunteered there every day.

Since his release, Omri has been getting to know his two daughters – who barely remember him – again, playing with them and spending time with his family in his hospital room in Tel Aviv.

Bar Kupershtein

Twenty-two-year-old Bar Kupershtein from the Israeli city of Holon, is the oldest of five children, and had to shoulder a great deal of responsibility while he was still in his teens. His father, Tal Kupershtein, is a paramedic, but was seriously injured while helping at a car accident three years ago and is disabled and confined to a wheelchair. Bar also became a paramedic and his family’s primary breadwinner, supporting his mother, Julie, his father and four younger siblings. On October 7, 2023, Bar was working at the Nova festival to earn extra money. Instead of fleeing and saving himself, Bar remained at the festival site, caring for the wounded, until he was taken hostage. Late that day, his family saw photos and a gruesome video on Telegram, posted by Hamas operatives, of Bar lying on the ground and being

continued on page 11

DR YVETTE ALT MILLER COURTESY AISH.COM

up, before he was transported to Gaza.

When he was released, Bar’s overjoyed family greeted him – his father insisting on standing for a moment, getting up out of his wheelchair with help from his other sons – to welcome Bar home.

Eitan Mor

Eitan Mor, 25, grew up in the town of Kiryat Arba with his parents and seven younger siblings. As an adult, he lived in the Nahlaot neighborhood of Jerusalem and worked as a barista. He was known for his friendliness and for always opening his home to others and going for runs with his dog. On October 7, 2023, he was working as a security guard at the Nova music festival. Instead of fleeing, he remained at his post, helping evacuate revellers as Hamas’ onslaught began.

His father, Avika Mor, has explained that Eitan has a strong sense of duty: “In our home, we educated our kids to risk their lives for the people of Israel, for the State of Israel.” Before he was kidnapped, Eitan and his family had a conversation around their Shabbat dinner table about the hypothetical situation of being kidnapped by Hamas. Eitan said that he wouldn’t want to be exchanged for convicted terrorists (which the October 13 agreement mandated). After his release, Eitan’s mother Efrat told reporters, “He looks thin and pale, but he is smiling.”

Elkana Bohbot

Elkana Bohbot, 36, lived in the Jerusalem suburb of Mevasseret Zion with his wife, Rivka Gonzalez, and their three-year-old son Reem. Elkana worked as a music producer, though he was also planning to open an ice cream store in Tel Aviv. He was one of the producers of the Nova music festival, along with his childhood friends, Michael and Osher Waknin. (Michael and Osher were murdered, along with over 370 festivalgoers.)

As Hamas terrorists overran the Nova festival, Elkana refused to flee and stayed behind, helping wounded revellers. Rivka only received proof that Elkana was alive last February, when Hamas released a propaganda video showing Elkana looking clearly weak and ill.

Evyatar David

Evyatar David, 24, grew up in the Israeli city of Kfar Saba. An avid musician, he was attending the Nova music festival with friends when he was shot. He was trying to drive away when Hamas operatives overcame his vehicle and kidnapped him and others. Evyatar’s older brother, Ilay David, recalls watching a Hamas-posted video on October 7, 2023, showing Evyatar “lying handcuffed on the ground with other festivalgoers, terror in his eyes.” He was kidnapped with his close friend Guy Gilboa-Dalal. Evyatar was held in horrific conditions underground. On February 22, 2025, Evyatar and Guy were forced to watch as Hamas released three Israeli hostages, Omer Shem Tov, Omer Wenkert and Eliya Cohen. Millions around the world watched Hamas’s video of their pained, tearful faces as they viewed

Meet the 20 hostages who returned home

the handover ceremony from a car, then were forced back into captivity. Evyatar featured in another Hamas video in August 2025, when the terror group filmed an emaciated Evyatar in an underground dungeon, being forced to dig his own grave. “I haven’t eaten for days … I barely got drinking water,” he says in the video. (In a bizarre twist, antiIsrael activist Greta Thunberg claimed he was an Arab prisoner being tortured and held by Israel.) “He’s a human skeleton,” Evyatar’s brother, Ilay, said after watching the video. “He was being starved to the point where he can be dead at any moment and he suffers a great deal. He can barely speak; he can barely move.”

Held most of the time with Guy GilboaDalal, Evyatar and Guy were separated during the last two months of their captivity. Hours after being released, the two friends were reunited in the hospital in Israel, emaciated and ill, but finally freed.

Gali Berman and Ziv Berman

Gali Berman and Ziv Berman, 28-yearold twins, lived together in an area of Kfar Aza popular with young adults. Close friends as well as brothers, Gali and Ziv worked together as light technicians and both played on Kfar Aza’s soccer team, the “Foxes”. They enjoyed travelling together to concerts and soccer matches.

As Hamas gunmen flooded Kibbutz Kfar Aza on October 7, 2023, Gali left Ziv in their safe room and ran a few doors down to stay with his close friend, Emily Damari, who was afraid to be alone, in her safe room. Gali’s and Ziv’s parents and two other brothers were also hiding in their own homes at the time. Their older brother, Liran, later described that the area of the kibbutz where Gali and Ziv lived was totally overrun: “Complete destruction. Houses burned to the ground. The neighbourhood where my brothers lived is demolished. Completely. Trees were (torn) from the roots. Roads were completely destroyed – remnants of destroyed cars, remnants of missiles that Hamas shot at the kibbutz. It’s a complete destruction.”

Gali and Ziv were taken prisoner and were separated in Gaza. After their release, they were finally reunited with their families and each other for the first time in two years.

Guy Gilboa-Dalal

Guy Gilboa-Dalal, 22, grew up in the Israeli town of Kfar Saba. From a young age, Guy was fascinated by Japanese art and culture, and had even taught himself rudimentary Japanese. On October 7, 2023, he was attending his first-ever music festival, Nova, with his older brother Gal.

Gal later described the chaos as Hamas terrorists overran the Nova music festival. “People started to run in my direction, covered with blood, screaming that the terrorists were closing in on us.” He and Guy got separated. Gal kept trying to phone Guy, who never answered his phone. Later that day, Guy’s family learned he’d been kidnapped when Hamas posted videos of them kidnapping him, along with hundreds of other Jews.

Hamas tortured Guy in captivity. In

February 2025, he appeared, looking emaciated, along with Evyatar David, watching as three Israeli hostages were released. In September 2025, Hamas released another video of Guy. Sitting in the back seat of a car, with shorn hair and looking gaunt, Guy’s appearance recalled that of Holocaust victims. In the propaganda video, he recited from a script calling for an end to fighting. Fellow hostages report that Hamas tortured Guy, depriving him of water. He became so ill he was unable to speak for a time and lost hearing in one ear.

Maxim Herkin

Maxim Herkin, 37, moved to Israel from Ukraine with his mother Tala and his eleven-year-old brother Peter, and lived in the northern Israeli town of Tirat Carmel. He supported the family and was working on completing a degree in Computer Science from Israel’s Open University, so that he could find a better job. Maxim also has a daughter named Monica, who’s now five years old, who lives with her mother in Russia. The week before Hamas’s October 7 attack, Maxim was in Russia, visiting his daughter. Shy and quiet, Maxim had never been to a rave like the Nova festival. Two friends urged him to go and he decided at the last minute to attend. Maxim was taken captive from the festival; his friends were found later, burned to death in their car as they tried to escape. In July 2025, Hamas released a video of Maxim with captive Bar Kuperstein. In it, the two men look thin and haggard and say: “We are dying here with a pulse. We don’t feel human. We are again 30 metres underground.”

“Maxim is our back, our anchor,” his mother Tala told journalists. “His brother and I live in his house, and he helps us make a living. He is my whole world. He had many dreams, he studied and worked while taking care of me and his brother.”

Matan Angrest

Matan Angrest, 22, grew up in the town of Kiryat Bialik and loves sports, particularly soccer. On October 7, 2023, he was serving as a tank soldier; Hamas terrorists firebombed his tank, killing several of his comrades and severely wounding Matan.

Fellow hostage Ron Krivoi was held in the same tunnel as Matan and described Hamas operatives torturing Matan relentlessly, including electrocuting him with car batteries and asking him about his military service. “The interrogations he went through happened while still in Israeli territory – that’s where it started. They already connected him to a car battery on the way (to Gaza) and tried to revive him. Using car batteries, they electrocuted him. They weren’t able to interrogate him. He probably wasn’t even in a condition to speak because he was badly injured. His injuries were very severe.”

Krivoi also described the tunnels and conditions in which he and Matan were held: “These aren’t tunnels you see in pictures. We were in something really small, deep underground. There wasn’t even a floor – we were on sand and the mattresses were all mouldy. We were inside a very, very small cage. Honestly, about a metre and a half by a metre

and a half, and we had to lie down and rest in it – you couldn’t stand. No height, no toilets, no food. We were five people; we ate one small dish with some canned food and a pita that we divided among us. I was there for 51 days and lost nine kilograms of body weight …”

One of the first actions Matan took after his release was to phone another former hostage, Keith Siegel, with whom he was held for a time in Gaza, and who has campaigned for the release of Matan and other hostages ever since he was let go in February 2025. Keith told Matan: “We’ll reunite … soon… You’re a hero, Matan, how you were able to survive.” Matan replied that emotionally, he feels “completely normal, like anyone else” and that it was a privilege for him to live in Israel, “to live in this nation”.

Matan Zanguaker

Matan Zanguaker, 24, has always taken care of others. His parents divorced when he was young and he helped take care of his two younger sisters from an early age. Two years ago, he was living in Kibbutz Nir Oz with his girlfriend Ilana Gritzewsky. On the morning of October 7, 2023, Matan texted his mother, Einav Zanguaker, who lived nearby. He wrote, “I love you, don’t cry,” then later texted, “Here. Here. Here.” Soon, to her horror, contact was cut off: Matan and Ilana were kidnapped by Hamas terrorists and brought to Gaza.

Ilana was released in February 2025. She and Matan’s family received almost no news of Matan’s condition, beyond confirmation that he was still alive. “Matan, as you were robbed of life, you will return to life,” his mother declared during his captivity. “We’re fighting for you.”After Matan’s release, his family released a video of him, looking thin but happy, embracing his mum.

Rom Braslavski

Rom Braslavski, now 21, was a teenage Jerusalemite who took a job as a security guard at the Nova music festival. Instead of keeping order at an outdoor concert, he found himself helping terrified people hide from Hamas terrorists and tending to the dead and dying. Refusing to flee and try to save himself, Rom remained at the Nova site, helping others, until he was kidnapped, not by Hamas, but by terrorists from Islamic Jihad, another group which joined in the attacks.

Rom has been kept in horrific conditions. Former hostage Sasha Troufanov was briefly held with Rom. After Sasha was released from captivity in February 2025, he spoke of Rom’s grave condition: “The faith and strength I saw in his eyes back then have been replaced by sadness, depression and helplessness.”

Caption: An image of hostage Rom Braslavski and a masked terrorist in a video call while he was still in Hamas captivity on October 13, 2025

In July 2025, Islamic Jihad released a propaganda video of Rom. He appears emaciated and ill, and explains that he has an injury to his foot, which makes it impossible for him to stand up. He spends all day lying down, Rom said in the video, and was mistreated by his captors. Rom’s mother, Tami Braslavski,

Meet the 20 hostages who returned home

from page 11

Rom is not shouting or angry – he speaks quietly, in a weak voice, like a person who has accepted the fact that there’s nothing left to fight for and may not come out of there alive. They say that when words run out, tears speak. Rom, my life, I am crying with you.”

Segev Kalfon

Segev Kalfon, 27, grew up in the southern Israeli town of Dimona, along with his two siblings and worked at his family’s bakery in the nearby city of Arad. He was also interested in financial markets. His sister-in-law said: “Segev, when you meet him, first of all he’s handsome, you can’t help but notice his presence. He has an unusual beauty that you don’t see everywhere. Then he’ll probably make you fall over laughing. That’s perhaps the thing we miss the most, the joy of life that he would bring to the family, and lighten every situation, and get a laugh out of every situation – that’s really a significant part of his character.”

Segev had already completed his army duty and was suffering from PTSD and orthopaedic injuries. He agreed to go to the Nova music festival with a friend when he was kidnapped by Hamas terrorists. After Hamas’ attacks, his father went to hospitals all over Israel’s south, looking for his son. Finally, Segev’s friend broke the awful news: he’d personally witnessed Segev being

dragged away. His family had no news until February 2025 when former hostage Ohad Ben Ami was released and told Segev’s family he’d been imprisoned with Segev in Gaza.

Ohad delivered terrible news: Segev was subject to terrible abuse, was being starved and beaten, and had begun to display symptoms of psychological trauma. He was experiencing panic attacks, dissociative episodes, and periods of rage. “His mind is breaking,” Segev’s mother Galit Kalfon explained.

Nimrod Cohen

Nimrod Cohen, 21, grew up in the Israeli city of Rehovot with his parents, Yehuda and Vicki, his older brother, Yotam, and his twin sister, Romi. Yotam has said, “Nimrod is a very shy boy and he’s a very simple man. Before October 7, his main concerns were playing Fortnite with his friends, streaming it on Discord and going to parties. He was like every other regular 19-year-old guy.” His mother said: “From a young age, he was in scouting groups, always wanting to contribute meaningfully.”

On October 7, 2023, Nimrod was a Corporal, doing his national military service in an armoured corps in a tank near Kibbutz Nirim. As Hamas terrorists flooded the area, Nimrod’s tank malfunctioned and was surrounded by Hamas fighters. Nimrod was the only member of his tank crew to survive and he was kidnapped and taken to Gaza, along with the bodies of his fellow soldiers. In Gaza, Nimrod was tortured

Passport

mercilessly: kept in a small cage, meant for animals, with his hands tied together, interrogated about his military service over and over, and denied food and water. Hamas terrorists showed him videos of them murdering Nimrod’s friends. Fellow prisoners who saw Nimrod in Gaza described him as sick. He was covered in a rash, appeared to be deaf in one ear, and had become increasingly withdrawn. Despite his pain and anguish, Nimrod managed to smuggle out a message to his family with fellow hostages who were released in February 2025: “I am okay. Don’t worry. I love you.”

When he was released on October 13, Nimrod, looking pale and gaunt, embraced his family in his hospital room in Tel Aviv, crying and laughing at the same time.

Yosef-Chaim Ohana

Yosef-Chaim, 24, grew up in a religious family in the southern Israeli town of Kiryat Malachi, the oldest of three brothers. He loved hiking, bicycling and camping in different parts of Israel. Two years ago he’d recently moved to Tel Aviv and was forging his own path. When a friend invited him to attend the Nova music festival, Yosef-Chaim agreed.

As terrorists attacked in the early hours of October 7, 2023, instead of fleeing, Yosef-Chaim remained at the festival site, helping emergency personnel load wounded people into ambulances. When terrorists overran the area, YosefChaim tried to hide beside a parked

car. He was discovered, kidnapped and brought into Gaza. After Yosef-Chaim was released on October 13, his father took a page from the Bible when he greeted his son, loudly reciting Shema Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonoi Echad – just as our patriarch Jacob did when he was finally reunited with his long-lost son Yosef (Joseph) – before embracing his son.

Closing

Our joy is not complete. Too many Israelis have been killed. Hamas is still holding the bodies of many hostages. These last 20 hostages who’ve been released face a long road to recover, physically and psychologically. Let’s continue our prayers – this time for their recovery and for healing for the entire nation of Israel.

Dr Yvette Alt Miller holds a PhD in International Relations from the London School of Economics and has taught at Northwestern University, London Business School and lectured around the world. She is the author of Angels at the Table: A Practical Guide to Celebrating Shabbat,  which had been praised as "life changing" and compared to having a friend guide the reader through a typical Shabbat, and of Portraits of Valor: Heroic Jewish Women You Should Know, which describes the lives of 40 remarkable women who inhabited different eras and lands, giving readers a sense of the vast diversity of Jewish history and experience.

12. Singer Mendes

17. Rapping penguin of "Happy Feet"

20. Wright of "Black Panther"

21. Letter after an apostrophe, often

22. Word between Nachum and Gamzu

23. Vardalos of "Greek Wedding" films

25. Afternoon, in Australia

Sound at a sauna

2002 Spielberg hit

Vilna Gaon

One time home run champ

Rabbi Yehuda of Prague

___ Od Milvado 24. Range between 300 and 3,000

Tarzan nickname

Magazine founded by Stuart Scheftel in 1954

32. Need for visiting Israel...or a hint to solving this puzzle 36. Raw, as cotton

Twosome, in tabloids 42. 1969 Philip Roth hit novel

Where Rabbi Yochanan ben Zakkai established a yeshiva

Sound from the impressed

Sullivan and Sheeran

Adams of New York

Belt, at the bar

Pacer or Gremlin manufacturer, once

26. "Tonight Show" host from 1957 to 1962

28. Fake it, musically

29. Water spigot

33. Bema's neighbor, perhaps

34. No-thing connector

35. "Cone" or "Cat" starter

36. Not packing heat

37. Beginners

39. Suit go with

40. Finale

41. Hermon and Zion, for short

43. French Riviera city-state

44. Combined, as assets

45. Loughlin of "Full House"

46. Challah need

50. Child direction?

51. High or low ending

53. "Not interested"

54. Drink in Ma'ale Adumim?

55. Springfield tavern owner

56. We all need it

57. Mets div.

CONSIDERED OPINION

NOMI KALTMANN

In Judaism, burial is considered one of the most sacred acts a person can perform. In Hebrew it is called Chessed Shel Emet, “true kindness”, because the dead can never thank or repay the living for burying them.

This is a phrase that has echoed in my mind these past few weeks, as Israel and Hamas remain locked in tense negotiations over the return of the remaining bodies of Israeli hostages who died in Hamas captivity. To many people outside the Jewish community, the idea of fighting for the return of bodies can seem hard to grasp. Why would Israel go to such lengths to recover the remains of the dead?

The answer lies in how Judaism approaches death and mourning. Jewish belief holds that the neshama, the soul, hovers close to the body and cannot find peace until burial. The soul cannot rest until the body has been returned to the Earth. This is why family members who live overseas are sometimes prepared to miss a burial of a loved one rather than delay it. The peace of the deceased usually takes priority over the comfort of the living.

A person can die in the morning and be buried that same afternoon. There is no embalming, no public display and, wherever possible, no delay. From the

CORNER

This is a very large and fancy cheese on toast, designed to be shared. Cut it up as a snack or add a salad to make a light lunch.

You could use dried chilli flakes and a hint of smoked paprika. Harris Farm has a superb Fynbos smoked chili pesto, as well.

For the hot honey sauce, cooking honey will butter and chilli until it bubbles makes the most glorious topping.

If you don’t mind sweetness, you could add a fried egg, to make it a more substantial meal.

It's often an after Shabbos meal.

Use sturdy bread for the recipe. If you don't want to use a whole loaf, a few slices of sourdough is great. Pre-toasting the bread gives it a firmness, which will prevent the large grilled cheese from getting too soggy. A combination of sour cream and yoghurt binds the grated cheddar, making a luscious texture when the cheese melts. Or use a heavy mayonnaise.

Make the hot honey chilli butter just before your grilled cheese comes out of the oven. It will start to bubble fairly quickly, which will cook the garlic.

Ingredients:

Grilled cheese

Half a medium loaf of bread, such as country loaf or ciabatta

250 grams cheddar cheese grated

125 ml (1/2 cup) sour cream

Why are Israelis so desperate to have the bodies of hostages returned?

moment of death, the body is handed to the Chevra Kadisha, the Jewish burial society, and watched over constantly by family or friends who recite psalms until burial.

Under the care of the Chevra Kadisha, the body is washed, immersed seven times in a mikveh (ritual bath) and dressed in a plain white shroud. It is placed in a simple wooden coffin, never an elaborate one, with a small amount of soil from the Holy Land. In Israel, many people are buried without a coffin at all, just wrapped in a shroud and lowered

straight into the ground. The simplicity of Jewish burial is precisely the point – in death, everyone is equal, returning to the Earth from which they came.

This perhaps helps explain why the families of the murdered Israeli hostages have been so determined to bring the bodies of their loved ones home. Beyond closure, they want to fulfil a sacred religious duty: to give their loved ones the dignity of burial and allow their souls to find peace. Until the bodies are returned, the families of the deceased hostages cannot begin shiva, the seven-

day period of mourning that follows a death.

Shiva is where healing begins. It is when friends bring food, comfort the family and share stories that recall the life of the departed. It is where grief becomes communal, where people drop in without an invite and spend time with the mourning family, supporting them through this difficult time. Without a burial, there can be no shiva.

Without shiva, grief in Judaism has no structure and no ritual outlet. It stretches on indefinitely. Since 7 October, 2023, the families of the Israeli hostages remain in limbo, unable to mourn properly, despite knowing their loved ones have been killed.

In Israel, people understand that for the country to move forward and close the traumatic chapter which began on 7 October, these deceased hostages must be brought home for ritual burial. Their return is not only about individual families but about national healing. The entire country feels suspended between life and death, between what has been buried and what has not.

This article was first published on the ABC website: abc.net.au.

Grilled cheese sandwich

3 tbsp plain yoghurt

6 spring onions, finely sliced (both the white and green parts)

1 heaped tbsp MasterFoods’ wholegrain mustard

Sliced jalapeños (optional)

Hot honey butter:

40 grams salted butter

1 clove of garlic minced

2 heaped tbsp honey

3/4 of a tsp Tabasco sauce

A good pinch of salt

Instructions:

Preheat the oven to 200C

Slice the loaf in half horizontally and use the top half for another purpose. If you are doubling this recipe, you could trim the domed top of the bread and make a second grilled cheese. Bake the bread for about five minutes until it’s starting to look golden brown. This timing may vary depending on your oven. Mix the remainder of the grilled cheese ingredients in a bowl to form a stiff paste. Roughly spread the cheese mixture onto the toasted bread. It can be a thick spread.

Place the cheese-covered loaf onto a lined baking sheet and bake for about 10 minutes, until it starts turning golden on top. This could take longer, depending on your oven. If it’s taking too long, turn your oven grill to high and give it a blast of heat for the last three minutes or so.

While the grilled cheese is in the oven, put the ingredients for the hot honey sauce in a small pot and bring it to a gentle bubble.

Top the grilled cheese with sliced jalapeños (optional) and drizzle over the hot honey butter.

AROUND THE COMMUNITY

YOASH DVIR CEO TECHNION AUSTRALIA

Imagine a world where a doctor can seal a wound in seconds – without stitches, staples or scars. That future might be closer than we think.

Scientists at the Technion – Israel Institute of Technology have developed a new kind of “medical glue” that could change the way we treat wounds and internal injuries. Their findings, published recently in the journal Advanced Materials, describe a special gel that can stick to wet tissue (even underwater!) and close wounds almost instantly.

If you’ve ever used a super strong glue at home, you get the idea, but this is far more advanced and totally safe for the body. The gel is made from materials inspired by nature, specifically by the way shellfish stick to rocks in the ocean. These creatures produce a natural glue that holds under waves, in salt water and under pressure. Technion researchers borrowed this idea and re-created it in the lab.

The result is a flexible, jelly-like material

Healing with glue

Technion researchers at the Farah Laboratory for Advanced Functional/Medicinal Polymers and Smart Drug Delivery Technologies (www.thefarahlab.com) at the Wolfson Faculty of Chemical Engineering, where revolutionary work is being carried out

To make things even more exciting, the Technion team figured out how to 3D-print the glue into any shape they need. That means a hospital could one day “print” a custom patch for a specific wound, just like tailor making a perfectly fitted suit. The material can also be stored as a powder and re-activated potential, as distinct from simply a lab curiosity.

While still in the testing stage, the implications are enormous. This new glue is fast, versatile and robust. Therefore, if it works as expected in human trials, it could replace sutures for many procedures – from surgery to first aid. It wound, stop bleeding and help the body heal itself. As new materials and ideas cross oceans, so too does hope. Israel’s breakthroughs don’t belong to one nation alone; they ripple outward, shaping what’s possible everywhere.

For donation options scan the QR code →

DAVID SOLOMON, CEO AUSTRALIAN FRIENDS OF TEL AVIV UNIVERSITY AROUND THE COMMUNITY

The universe’s greatest mystery

Most of the matter in the universe –everything that holds galaxies and stars together – is invisible. That is dark matter, the holy grail of physics. We know it exists, yet we cannot see it or fully understand it. It has shaped the cosmos for billions of years, guiding the formation of galaxies and stars, but its nature remains one of science’s deepest mysteries. Now, researchers at Tel Aviv University are bringing us closer than ever to uncovering this cosmic enigma.

Listening to the cosmic dark ages

TAU scientists are looking further back than ever before, just 100 million years after the Big Bang, during the “cosmic dark ages”. Professor Rennan Barkana and his team at TAU’s Sackler School of Physics and Astronomy, working with collaborators from Japan, India and the UK, have predicted a groundbreaking method to detect dark matter indirectly. Their study, published in Nature Astronomy, shows that dense clumps of dark matter pulled in hydrogen gas, causing it to emit faint radio waves. Measuring these signals could finally reveal the properties of the universe’s invisible scaffolding.

A pristine laboratory for discovery

The early universe offers a unique advantage: it is a pristine laboratory.

100 million years after the Big Bang, the universe spoke

Dark matter has been interacting with stars and galaxies for billions of years, complicating its study. By “listening” to the radio waves from this untouched era, astronomers can study dark matter in its purest form, before galaxies and starlight obscure it.

From Tel Aviv to the moon

Detecting these signals is a colossal challenge. Earth’s atmosphere

The Australian Friends of Tel Aviv University

Tel Aviv University Optimism at work

A healing solution

blocks the faintest waves, so future observations may require telescopes in space, or even on the moon, where interference is minimal. Signals from the slightly later “cosmic dawn”, when the first stars ignited, can be observed from Earth using massive radio telescopes, like the Square Kilometre Array being built in Australia. Professor Barkana is part of this international effort, which will

Countless TAU students have lost loved ones or endured unimaginable trauma, and many now suffer from PTSD. To address this crisis TAU established Israel’s most advanced post-trauma clinic, providing cutting-edge, evidence-based treatments developed by our globally-renowned researchers over the last 30 years. The clinic has become a critical resource for Israel, treating many TAU students struggling to rebuild their futures.

deploy 80,000 antennas to map the sky in unprecedented detail and trace the hidden dark matter clumps.

Why it matters for all of humanity

The implications extend far beyond astronomy. Understanding dark matter could reshape physics, illuminate how galaxies, stars and planets formed, and inspire technologies grounded in the mechanics of the universe. TAU has long transformed bold ideas into discoveries with global impact. By linking local expertise to international collaborations, the university shows that breakthroughs made in Tel Aviv can reverberate globally.

A universe revealed

By tuning in to the faint radio whispers of the universe’s infancy, TAU researchers are doing more than studying distant stars. They are helping humanity glimpse the forces that shaped everything we know. Each signal from the cosmic dark ages brings us closer to understanding the invisible threads that bind the universe, reminding us that even in the vastness of space, human curiosity and ingenuity can illuminate the deepest mysteries. In unlocking dark matter, TAU is not just advancing science – it is expanding the boundaries of human knowledge itself.

Teens are learning Holocaust denial on TikTok. Nazi networks are exploiting algorithms to radicalise kids. Survivors are fighting back, but time is running out.

Seventeen percent of Holocaustrelated content on TikTok either denies or distorts history. That’s one out of every six videos, out in the open where millions of kids scroll every day.

Your 14-year-old swipes from a makeup tutorial to a dance trend to – suddenly –a video explaining how gas chambers were fake, how Jews invented the Holocaust for sympathy, how Hitler was “saving Europe”.

This isn’t an accident. It’s a concerted campaign.

Nazi networks are targeting teens

Hundreds of openly Nazi accounts operate on TikTok. Their usernames flaunt swastikas and SS bolts. Their bios declare “Armed revolution now. Complete annihilation of Jews.” These accounts post Holocaust denial, praise Hitler as a misunderstood hero, and celebrate synagogue and mosque shooters, including those who livestreamed their massacres.

This isn’t just random antisemitism; it’s organised propaganda. Nazi groups coordinate on Telegram, where they trade videos, coach each other on which trending sounds to hijack and plan engagement drives to game TikTok’s algorithm. They know exactly what they’re doing. They call it “waking people up”. What they mean is radicalising teenagers into believing Jews are evil and the Holocaust is a hoax.

The numbers are chilling. Researchers uncovered a network of 200 Nazi accounts, with a combined 6.2 million views. One account calling for Jewish

On TikTok, kids are learning the Holocaust never happened

annihilation stayed up for over a week after being reported. In that time, it gained 3,800 followers while sharing bomb-making guides and instructions for 3D-printed guns. Another account promoting Nazi ideology amassed 87,000 views before TikTok took it down. That’s 87,000 opportunities to plant doubt, to normalise hate, to push kids one step closer to radicalisation. And these are just two accounts out of hundreds.

Hate spreads faster than truth

These networks strategically use AI to translate Hitler’s speeches into English, then sync them with popular TikTok sounds to trick the algorithm into boosting them. They cloak slurs in coded language: “Jews” become emojis, parentheses, or the number 109 – a reference to the antisemitic lie that Jews have been expelled from 109 countries. They disguise videos with thumbnails of

European cathedrals or architecture, then flip mid-video into Holocaust denial and white supremacist propaganda.

And TikTok’s algorithm doesn’t just let it slide – it accelerates it. Researchers created test accounts, watched 10 Nazi videos, and within just three swipes on the For You Page, TikTok was recommending more Nazi propaganda.

That’s how quickly the platform drags users into a rabbit hole of hate.

A generation forgetting

The timing couldn’t be worse. The generation using TikTok as their main source of information is also the generation that knows the least about the Holocaust.

Sixty-six per cent of young Americans don’t know six million Jews were murdered.

More than one-third believe the number was two million or fewer.

These findings reveal just how fragile Holocaust memory has become. Survivors are passing away, taking their testimonies with them. What fills the void? Not museums or history books, but lies on TikTok.

Using TikTok to fight back

And yet, there’s another story unfolding: survivors and their families have stepped onto TikTok to fight misinformation at its source.

Lily Ebert, with her great-grandson Dov Forman, built an audience of 1.9 million by sharing her Auschwitz survival story in short, direct videos. She turned history into lived reality for a generation raised on fast content.

Tova Friedman, one of the youngest survivors of Auschwitz, collaborates with her grandson Aron Goodman to post videos that have reached millions. She answers blunt questions from viewers: What did kids eat in Auschwitz? What did liberation feel like? She turns unimaginable history into personal, accessible memory.

Montana Tucker, a Jewish influencer with millions of followers, brings Holocaust education into communities that would never otherwise encounter it.

What makes these accounts powerful is their authenticity. Friedman doesn’t dramatise – she doesn’t need to. The facts alone are devastating. By pairing her with her grandson, she creates a bridge across generations, showing teens that Holocaust memory isn’t ancient history – it’s living testimony.

The cost of doing nothing

TikTok already has systems that catch and erase child sexual abuse material and ISIS propaganda. It should treat Nazi recruitment the same way: immediate removal, network bans and real prevention. The technology exists. The choice not to use it for Nazi content is deliberate.

The Holocaust ended less than 80 years ago. Survivors are still alive and we're already at a point where a huge portion of young people either don't know basic facts about it or actively believe it was fake. This is not just about respecting history; it’s about whether the next generation will recognise genocide when they see it, or whether they'll participate in it because they've been convinced the victims deserved it.

Noa Lev is a writer focused on Jewish identity, emotional resilience and the search for meaning in a disoriented world. Drawing from cultural history, spiritual traditions and modern psychology, Noa explores how ancient wisdom continues to speak to contemporary struggles.

RABBINIC THOUGHT

Question:

I am in deep pain. I am Jewish, but not practising. I married a non-Jewish man and Judaism has not been part of our home.

Now my worst nightmare has come true. At university, my 19-year-old daughter has joined the pro-Palestinian camp. She has marched against Israel. She speaks against Jews. It feels like she has turned her back on her family and her people.

I tried talking to her and it didn’t go well. We hardly have any contact now.

My question is not about my older daughter. I feel she is too far gone and that I have lost her. But I still have a 15-year-old daughter at home and I am terrified she will go the same way. I can’t let that happen. What can I do to protect her and keep her connected to her people?

Answer:

Here is what you need to do. Light Shabbat candles. Every Friday evening, on time, without fail. Even if you’ve never done it before, start now.

My daughter is pro-Palestinian – what now?

You may feel deeply connected to being Jewish. But feelings can’t be passed down. Only actions can. When your daughter sees you living your Judaism, not just talking about it, something within her will awaken. When she sees the light in your eyes, she will begin to recognise it in her own. Because she too has a Jewish soul, quietly waiting to be stirred.

And here’s the secret: those candles may reach further than you think.

Your older daughter has a Jewish soul too. Don’t write her off. Her fire is burning in another direction right now, but a Jewish flame never goes out. One day, your light may reach hers. Even from kilometres away, in her university dorm, surrounded by friends who don’t share her story, she may still feel the warmth of your candles calling her home.

One small flame on your table will speak louder than a thousand debates.

This was probably not the answer you expected. Perhaps you hoped for a nice Jewish book to give to your daughter, or an event she could attend. But your daughter doesn't need more information. She needs inspiration. She needs to see what a Jew looks like.

Children can sense what their parents truly value. When you light Shabbat candles, when you put a mezuzah on your door, when you study Torah or give charity, you are saying: Judaism matters to me. You are not preaching itl; you are living it.

Jewish mothers have been lighting Shabbat candles for thousands of years. After reciting the blessing, they whisper a silent prayer that their children should shine with health and holiness. Your grandmother once prayed for you. Now it’s your turn to pray for your daughters and theirs.

This is not about your older child or your younger child. It is about you, the only one you can change. Light your flame. The rest will follow.

Vaccination is a halachic imperative: protecting life through modern medicine and Torah values

RABBI MOSHE GUTNICK RABBINIC ADMINISTRATOR THE KASHRUT AUTHORITY

The recent measles outbreak in Israel, which claimed the lives of five children under the age of two and a half, is a heartbreaking reminder of the critical importance of vaccination. These deaths, concentrated in areas with low immunisation rates, such as Jerusalem, Beit Shemesh and Bnei Brak, were entirely preventable. Measles is a highly contagious viral disease, but it is also one of the most easily thwarted through safe and effective vaccination. The tragedy is not only medical – it is moral and halachic. At The Sydney Beth Din, we were asked to lend our voice to rabbis from around the world encouraging parents to vaccinate their children.

Judaism places the preservation of life at the pinnacle of religious obligation. The Torah commands “and you shall live by them” (Vayikra 18:5), teaching that mitzvot are meant to sustain life, not endanger it. Likewise, “you shall greatly safeguard your souls” (Devarim 4:15) is a direct mandate to protect our health and well-being. These verses are not abstract ideals; they are actionable, halachic principles that obligate us to take reasonable steps to prevent harm, including embracing proven medical interventions, like vaccines.

Halachic authorities across generations have affirmed the duty to follow medical guidance. The Rambam,

himself a physician, emphasised that maintaining health is a mitzvah. Rav Eliezer Waldenberg (Tzitz Eliezer) and Rav Shlomo Zalman Auerbach both ruled that vaccination is not only permissible, but obligatory when it prevents serious illness. In the face of a contagious disease like measles, which can cause

pneumonia, brain damage and death, refusing vaccination endangers not only oneself but others, especially infants and immunocompromised individuals who rely on herd immunity.

The deaths in Israel occurred in communities where apparently misinformation and mistrust of medical

authorities have led to dangerously low vaccination rates. While religious freedom and parental autonomy are important values, they do not override the halachic imperative to protect life. The refusal to vaccinate –especially in the face of clear medical consensus and rising fatalities – violate the above commands and is a tragic misapplication of religious concern that results in preventable loss of life.

Moreover, communal responsibility is central to Jewish ethics. The Talmud teaches that Kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh (all Jews are responsible for one another). When individuals choose not to vaccinate, they compromise the safety of the entire community. The Torah’s emphasis on pikuach nefesh (saving a life) demands proactive measures, not passive hope. Vaccination is not merely a personal choice; it is a communal obligation rooted in Torah values, especially in the creation of herd immunity.

In light of these tragedies, rabbis, educators and community leaders must speak clearly and courageously. We must reaffirm that vaccination is a mitzvah, a fulfillment of divine command and a moral necessity. The Torah does not ask us to choose between faith and science. It demands that we use all available tools to preserve life. Let us honour the memory of these children by ensuring that no more lives are lost to preventable disease.

RABBI DR BENJI LEVY RABBINIC THOUGHT

Now that the new Jewish year has begun and the chaggim have finished, life is slowly returning to normal. The sukkah has long been packed away, the decorations folded, and the rhythm of everyday life has resumed. But, as we settle into the new year, it is worth pausing to ask what we are meant to carry forward from the month that shaped us.

Over the course of Tishrei, we moved through a powerful journey of the soul. Rosh Hashanah called us to renewal. Yom Kippur invited us to reflect and take responsibility. Sukkot brought us out into the open, to reconnect with one another and with the world around us. Each chag held its own message, but together they offered a complete blueprint for living with purpose and connection.

On Yom Kippur, we stood shoulder to shoulder, confessing we have sinned, rather than I have sinned. We took responsibility as a community, not just as individuals. Soon after, we entered the sukkah, where that same message came to life in a joyful and tangible way. We built together, welcomed others in, and shared meals beneath a

After the chaggim: learning to stop the blame game

that allowed the heavens to show through. The sukkah reminded us that true security does not come from walls or possessions, but from the people and purpose that hold us together. We live in a world that often thrives on division and blame.

Public conversation has become a race to assign fault, rather than to seek solutions. On social media, in

CANDLE LIGHTING TIMES

politics and even in our homes, it is easy to point the finger, instead of looking inward.

The blame game feels simple, but it distances us from one another and from growth.

Sukkot offered a different model. Its fragile structure taught us how dependent we are on each other. When the wind blows or the rain falls,

Spelling bee answers

everyone inside feels it.

That shared vulnerability is what gives us strength. We are reminded that we are all sitting under the same roof and the well-being of one affects the well-being of all.

The sages tell a story of passengers on a ship. When one begins to drill a hole beneath his seat, the others cry out, “Why are you doing this?”. He replies, “It is only under my seat.” They retort, “But when the water enters, we will all drown.” The message is timeless: our lives are interconnected. Blame will not keep the ship afloat; only shared responsibility will.

As we begin this new year, the sukkah may be gone, but its lessons remain.

When we stop blaming and start building – whether in our families, in our communities or as a society – we strengthen the foundations of our collective home. The test of Tishrei is not how inspired we felt during the festivals, but how we live in their aftermath.

The walls may have come down, but the work of building continues.

Jewish word: YIBANEH. Jewish term: EIN BA’AYAH. 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): ABBEY, BA’AYAH, BANYAN, HYENA, NANNY, NINNY, YABBY and YEHEI.

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

Crossword answers

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OPINION

ALIYAH ADVENTURES CONSIDERED

RAMONA FREEDMAN

At first glance, you may think that stringing the words ‘beautiful balagan’ together, despite the pleasing alliteration, is an oxymoron. After all, ‘balagan’ in modern Hebrew and Yiddish perfectly encapsulates a state of disorder, mess or general chaos. So why pair it with a word encompassing attractive qualities?

Well, living here in Israel 15 months post-Aliyah, I can genuinely attest to the fact that it is truly apt. Israel is a ‘beautiful balagan’ in every way. I see this daily on a macro and micro level.

On the macro level, I really believe we are witnessing wondrous miracles in our time. It certainly felt like that recently on Simchat Torah. It felt like that when President Trump was speaking for the first time in the Knesset. It felt like that when many could metaphorically finally exhale after two long, complicated years of war.

The microcosm of everyday life here makes me smile. Within an hour of Simchat Torah ending, our shul, Kehillat Lev Ra’anana, arranged for two busloads of eager beaver shul-goers to volunteer. The aim: to give of their time and energy to make a barbeque for soldiers who have been working day and night to protect all in our Holy Land. What is beautiful is that the whole country knows and appreciates the sacrifice of every soldier – whatever their rank. Ask anyone of any age who are their heroes and without blinking they will say it is the chayalim, the soldiers of the IDF. In fact, recently, a beaming mother was sitting in a café with her soldier son as he was granted a couple of days off from active duty. As he sat down, before he even placed an order, the barista had made him some sort of creamy caramel creation that was brought to him by a grateful waitress, on the house. As I said, beautiful.

A five-year-old girl shyly approached him wearing a purple wig that had been carefully plaited. She looked at the soldier with big eyes and quietly said, ‘Am Yisrael Chai’. Beautiful again.

Her Sephardic mother then began to bestow a three-minute continuous prayer upon the smiling soldier that he should be protected by G-d above with every step his army boots take. So beautiful.

Then we heard a commotion. Two people were arguing about a parking spot near the café in Herzliyah. A passerby got involved and, before you know it, a dozen people were screaming about something that didn’t involve the vast majority of participants. Israelis surely win the prize of any nationality for gesticulating the most.

Balagan. Back to the KLR barbecue at the Kibbutz. At the last minute, the army decided that the barbecue could not

Beautiful balagan

be held on an army base. Why? One too many questions already friends. We knew enough to know that the army doesn’t need to go into the details. All fresh meat and produce had been purchased. So, what to do? Temporary balagan.

The KLR community decided to set up the barbecue at the agricultural, religious Kibbutz Sa’ad, located in the Negev, near the Gaza border. It is a community that is regularly affected by rocket fire and security challenges.

That night I was told that exactly two years before, on October 7th, it had been identified and targeted by terrorists. Early that morning, barely five minutes ahead of the start of the onslaught at the Nova music festival, the guards changed shift and a rocket landed very close by.

This was typical for the region, yet, that morning, the guard on duty intuitively felt something was amiss. He opened the Kibbutz armoury and had a few people strategically posted to watch the front gates, in case of trouble.

Within minutes, more than thirty armed terrorists approached. Because of his quick thinking, the guards were able to neutralise those advancing and thereby not only saved the Kibbutz and all families within it, but also took in the wounded neighbours and festival-goers.

For two years they have all endured so much living in that region. That night, as a spokesperson for the kibbutz made a sweet thank you speech to our KLR crew, he said that Simchat Torah marked the first time in 24 months that they didn’t hear constant booms in the sky. Two

whole days of peace and quiet. It was a revelation.

In fantastic English-appropriated Hebrew (Hebrish?), he referred to what they had endured as ‘boomim’. He simply added the oft-used Hebrew plural ending ‘im’ to the English word ‘boom’. What a beautiful balagan of a phrase.

A Chassidic DJ was hired and he was jumping and vibing to each track. The KLR team brought the party to this resilient and remarkable kibbutz community. It was a night of such joy.

The seasoned KLR barbecue aficionados picked up their tongs and got to work. Trays of mouth-watering meats were placed on the line of portable grills.

From young to old, all pitched in. Mountains of freshly cut pita breads, hummus, sauces and salads were set up. While that was happening, there was so much dancing: dancing with many circles within circles, hugging precious Torahs. Little kids played with toy Torahs, while teenage kibbutzniks were rocking to ‘trendy beats’ based on Torah lyrics. After all, the Torah is timeless.

At the last minute, several soldiers also appeared. We fed them with the greatest pleasure.

War creates weariness. Israelis are fatigued in the true sense of the word. Yet, beauty does shine through the daily balagan.

In my new home here in Ra’anana (within which I am still waiting for internal doors, including bathroom doors … don’t ask!), we live in one of six attached houses.

One neighbour kindly held a sukkah party for all of us and we schmoozed and fressed as a little fraternity within the neighbourhood. It was so pure and so sweet. One neighbour hails from Italy, one from Argentina, one is a proud, weathered old-timer who goes back to the pioneering days when the State of Israel was established. And somehow, now, I too am in the mix.

And on it goes in this ancient land that has seen so much, yet continues to nurture this modern state that is now over three-quarters of a century old.

Most of the conversation in that sukkah that night was conducted in Hebrew, I tried my best to follow and, when I lost the thread, I just refilled my plate with delicious home-made kosher treats. Beautiful. Thus far, I have only known Israel during wartime.

A balagan on many levels, with phones blaring and breathless dashes into bomb shelters. Many who have made Aliyah before me … before this war, tell me that I can’t begin to imagine how fantastic peacetime is here. Yes, beautiful.

I believe them, but I’ve been around the block long enough to know that it is a balagan at the best of times. The equation of beauty plus balagan balances perfectly.

Yes, it is our balagan and somehow, we, the Jewish people, with G-d’s help, seem to get through each test stronger than before.

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

The opening night film of the 2025 Jewish International Film Festival, Bad Shabbos, which is being screened throughout the festival, is a riotous, good-natured comedy.

There are laughs aplenty as an important Friday night dinner turns into a calamitous version of Weekend at Bernie’s (1989).

From a traditional New York Jewish family, David (Jon Bass) is engaged to good Catholic girl Meg (Meaghan Leathers), who is converting.

It is Shabbos and the first time the two families have gotten together. The location is David’s parents, Richard (David Paymer) and Ellen’s (Kyra Sedgwick), 10th floor apartment.

Meg’s parents, John (John Bedford Lloyd) and Beth (Catherine Curtin), are driving there all the way from Milwaukee, Wisconsin. Also joining the family celebration is Richard and Ellen’s daughter, Abby (Milana Vayntrub) and her acerbic boyfriend, Benjamin (Ashley Zukerman).

Truth be told, Abby has been trying to find the right time to break up with him.

He is particularly combative when it comes to Abby and David’s younger brother, Adam (Theo Tapliz).

Adam is a troubled, pill popping outsider for whom Abby secured a two-week free internship at Benjamin’s firm.

After yet another flare up between Benjamin and Adam during pre-dinner drinks, before Meg’s parents arrive, Adam

A family meal turns into an ordeal

takes action. The result is catastrophic and Benjamin is “toast”. Mayhem ensues.

All begin running around like chooks without heads.

Even the affable and resourceful building doorman, Jordan (Cliff “Method Man” Smith) gets involved … and how.

And that is before John and Beth arrive late, after which things become even more chaotic.

Co-written, with Zack Weiner, by director Daniel Robbins, Bad Shabbos is a delightful, manufactured comedy.

It dines out on awkwardness and features a surfeit of smart one liners and sight gags.

The humour begins with the opening scene, when a rabbi is walking along the street, relaying a story to his companion.

As it so happens, they come to a shuddering halt below Richard and Ellen’s apartment.

The talented ensemble milks the material for all it is worth, which is in the comic timing.

It is not hard to put yourself into David’s position in wanting everything to go right, while being fearful – in fact, all but

knowing – it won’t. Jon Bass’ countenance relays that in spades. Meaghan Leathers is eternally affable as Meg, but even she is about to be sorely tested.

Richard has some weird ideas about how to stay grounded and David Paymer’s smile is deliberately disarming. Placing the cutlery on the table establishes his dynamic nicely.

For all the effort Meg is putting in, Ellen finds it difficult to accept her. Kyra Sedgwick plays up that discomfort.

Theo Tapliz is a bundle of nerves as Adam, while I appreciated the contradictions and directness in Milana Vayntrub’s representation of Abby.

Arrogance and unlikability are the keys to Ashley Zukerman’s take on Benjamin. Cliff “Method Man” Smith is a scenestealing hoot as Jordan.

The movie has a beaut look and feel to it. The production design is by Lily Guerin. While you might say that the script gets away with murder, that would be churlish.

The way to get the most out of Bad Shabbos is to dive in headfirst and let the discomfort drive you to mirth and merriment.

The Jewish International Film Festival screens in Melbourne and Sydney until 26th November and is on elsewhere in Australia until 21st December, 2025.

To find out more and to buy tickets, go to https://www.jiff.com.au

For more of Alex First’s reviews, go to https://www.itellyouwhatithink.com