In Howard Jacobson’s Howl, a Jewish man is told by the Metropolitan Police that his appearance is “provocative” and that he should leave the area near a pro-Palestine demonstration because he is “quite openly Jewish”.
The incident – drawing on Gideon Falter’s 2024 stunt – pointed to something about Jewish identity in London after October 7: some Jews have been pushed out of public spaces. This is especially true within parts of the LGBTQ+ Jewish community, where Zionists have been explicitly excluded.
So on Saturday, when I joined around 150 people in the Jewish bloc at London’s Pride parade, and watched as tens of thousands lined the streets cheering on a visibly Jewish contingent marching openly through the capital, it felt unexpectedly restorative.
The Jewish bloc in Trafalgar Square[Missing Credit]
As one woman in the bloc told me: “It is absolutely life-affirming being on the streets of Britain where people are cheering Jews, given what has happened in the last few months.”
Organised by Sapphic Shabbat and the Hineni Project, with support from the Board of Deputies and Keshet UK, the bloc brought together gay people, Jews, non-Jews and allies from across the country.
As the Hebrew word hineni suggests, the march was a living declaration of “here I am”. There were pink kippot, rainbow Magen David badges, and bags of sweets. An impromptu hora broke out when the boom box blasted “Moshiach, Moshiach, Moshiach,” and several of the conversations I had along the way delved into this week’s Torah portion.
Among those marching was Progressive Judaism co-leader Rabbi Charley Baginsky, who said she wanted to “stand alongside LGBTQIA+ Jews as a rabbi and an ally, and to say, visibly and publicly, that there is no contradiction between faith and inclusion.
Rabbi Charley Baginsky marched at the front of the bloc[Missing Credit]
“Our history teaches us the cost of hiding who we are, and today many Jews once again think carefully before wearing a Magen David or speaking openly about their identity. That doesn’t diminish the unique experience of LGBTQIA+ people, it reminds us why visibility and solidarity matter.
“As a rabbi, I believe leadership is about where we choose to stand as much as what we say from the bimah. I hope our presence showed LGBTQIA+ Jews that they are at the heart of Jewish life, and reminded every Jew that they should never have to hide who they are."
Last year, there was no national Jewish bloc at the capital’s flagship event after organisers Pride in London rejected requests aimed at ensuring the safety of British Jews marching.
But this year, Jewish organisers were supported by Pride in London, police and the Community Security Trust to make the bloc as safe as possible, with the group deliberately positioned close to the Ministry of Defence contingent and hundreds of military personnel.
Rabbi Adrian Schell and Dr Chayim Schell[Missing Credit]
Wimbledon Rabbi Adrian Schell was marching with his husband, Dr Chayim Schell, both in matching rainbow shirts.
“It is important for us not to retreat from public spaces. Jews, in any shape or form, belong in the public space,” he said.
Last year, even though the Jewish bloc had been cancelled, Schell marched with a smaller south London group. “That's why we came even when we felt pushed out. Jewish voices must be seen and recognised. The only way to count is to be there.”
Now taking part in his fifth London Pride, Schell reflected on how the event has evolved since his first march in Germany 33 years ago.
“Pride has always been political,” he said. “Today it's also about trans visibility. I spoke yesterday in my sermon about our trans siblings."
For David Shribbs, 36, who travelled from Bedford for his first London Pride, the day made him reflect on his family history.
David Shribbs wore his grandfather's kippah[Missing Credit]
“My grandfather survived Dachau. All we have is one photograph of relatives in Austria who were murdered. He always said gay men were treated even worse than the Jews.
“To be here today, marching openly as a gay Jewish man, is incredible. We've experienced so much hatred recently. Seeing so many people cheering us makes you realise it isn't all hate.”
Paul Kaskell first attended Pride in 1985 but stopped marching around a decade ago when, he said, “Pride lost some of its meaning.”
Then he saw the Jewish bloc advertised online.
“I wanted to show support for Jewish LGBTQ+ people,” said Kaskell, who is not Jewish. “Hearing about the huge rise in antisemitic attacks made me want to stand with them. I didn't want to be part of the silent majority while the vocal minority dominate.”
For Fiona Rose, from Stanmore, donning a “Jewicorn” T-Shirt, marching was an act of solidarity: “I'm here as an ally to support my gay friends and gay causes.”
London couple Sabrina and Tamara marched together, one wearing a “Gay Sabbos” cap, the other an “I heart Jewish Girls” T-shirt.
“We love each other and we love celebrating our Jewish and queer identities at the same time,” said Sabrina. “Everybody in the queer community has the right to march.”
Tamara, who works in media, said Jewish participation at Pride mattered more than ever.
Sabrina (left) and Tamara[Missing Credit]
“Why shouldn't the Jewish community get to march? It's time for Jewish people to reclaim the space we never should have lost by simply being ourselves and sharing our joy with the world.
“Being queer and Jewish can be difficult on both sides,” she said, citing organisations like Keshet UK as important, “because they create spaces where you can unapologetically be queer and Jewish.”
Lawyer Natasha Spreadborough, 34, last marched with a Jewish contingent a decade ago and said returning after October 7 was particularly powerful.
“After October 7, because we never really had space to process the trauma, we shrank ourselves. Now we're expanding again. We're demanding space. We're refusing to apologise for who we are.
“Just seeing women with curly Jewish hair makes me happy... We've been made to feel bad about our hair, our food, our music. So much of our identity has been defined by people who hate us.
Natasha Spreadborough attended in a "live, laugh, lesbian" T-shirt[Missing Credit]
“Today we're taking up space,” Spreadborough said.
Rachel travelled from Birmingham to attend her first London Pride with a handmade sign attached to her wheelchair bearing the words b'tzelem ("in the image of God").
“I want people to know we're here, we're not going anywhere and we love ourselves,” she said. “I wanted to focus on what we have in common rather than what divides us.”
Throughout the parade, the bloc carried rainbow flags emblazoned with Magen Davids. Israeli flags were notably absent, although one marcher, Alex Cat, 55, from Tottenham, briefly unfurled one alongside a Pride flag before police asked her to put it away.
“I was angry and sad in equal measure,” she said, when she was asked to take the flag down. “I understand why, but the way we create safety when we’re bullied is to stand up to the bullies.”
A veteran LGBTQ+ activist since the 1980s, Cat said she was marching because, echoing the rallying cry of the queer community during the Aids crisis, “Silence equals death.”
“Courage is contagious. Right now, not just Jews but many minorities need courage.”
Alex Cat wanted to carry an Israeli and Pride flag[Missing Credit]
After the march, police escorted participants to the after-party outside Israeli restaurant Miznon in Soho. There, Israeli flags finally appeared, a DJ took over the street and author and activist Hen Mazzig joined the celebrations.
A handful of confrontations broke out, with some shouting “Free Palestine” at the crowd, and one woman accused the group of being “baby killers”. But the incidents did little to dampen the atmosphere of defiance and pride.
Sapphic Shabbat co-founder Hannah Brady said during a speech at the party that the march showed queer Jews were “refusing to choose between our identities.”
Max Royston and Hannah Brady spearheaded the Jewish bloc at Pride this year[Missing Credit]
“Sometimes, simply insisting on our existence – loudly, proudly, wildly – is in itself an act of building the future,” she told the crowd, adding that she hoped the Jewish presence at Pride showed “we will bring together old and new traditions that shape the Jewish and queer worlds of tomorrow.”
Many in the party wore stickers reading “Nice Jewish girl looking for a nice Jewish girl”. Amid the dancing and falafel, it’s entirely possible a few new shidduchim were being negotiated.
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