When the world’s only Jewish state is wrongly singled out as uniquely malevolent and when its very existence is questioned, there are consequences
October 5, 2025 10:28
This weekend, Britain’s Jewish community had planned to come together to mark the second anniversary of the October 7th terrorist attacks - the deadliest massacre of Jews since the Holocaust. We intended to gather in grief and solidarity, to demand once again the release of the hostages: some murdered, others still held in inhumane conditions. We planned to gather, even knowing we would be doing so largely alone.
Today, we will still come together. But the context has shifted dramatically. The dark cloud that has hung over our community since that fateful day two years ago has not lifted – it has thickened.
On Yom Kippur, our holiest day of the year, when Jews across the world ask forgiveness and pray for renewal, we were brutally attacked. It happened at Heaton Park Hebrew Congregation. But every Jew knows it could have been anywhere, to any of us.
As the news spread through my own synagogue on Thursday, I watched volunteers – some off-duty – sprint to their posts. They joined the already bolstered team of ordinary men and women in stab-proof vests, who stand guard so the rest of us can pray in relative safety.
They were ready because, devastating as this attack is, it was not unexpected. It was never a question of if - only when.
For two years, antisemitism has swept through this country. It has become an accepted evil - condemned in words but rarely confronted in deeds. Swastikas have been daubed on Jewish homes. Synagogues and schools defiled with excrement. Jewish children told to hide their uniforms, so they are not targeted. Universities turning into hostile environments. Jewish staff and patients in the NHS feeling they must conceal their identity to stay safe.
For two years, Britain’s Jews have watched thousands march through our streets, with calls to "globalise the intifada” and chanting “from the river to the sea” – slogans of violence directed at Jews, everywhere. On Thursday, we saw it again. The very day people were murdered in our country, simply for being Jewish.
For two years, the conflict in the Middle East has dominated political debate and media coverage. Of course it should be reported and scrutinised - but this obsession with the conflict crosses a line. When it eclipses every other conflict or crisis, when the world’s only Jewish state is wrongly singled out as uniquely malevolent and when its very existence is questioned in a way no other nation is subjected to.
There are consequences. The last two years were a build up to Thursday’s attack. An attack not just on British Jews. But an assault on Britain itself – on all of our values.
Eighty years after the Holocaust, attending synagogue should not be an act of defiance. For Jews in Britain, it should be as ordinary as going to church on a Sunday or a mosque on a Friday.
Our places of worship have become fortresses, defended by the brave volunteers of the Community Security Trust - an organisation dedicated to protecting Britain’s Jews, and one needed now more than ever. Our schools operate under airport-style security, where children are taught how to respond if they come under attack. And in our daily lives, we weigh the risks of being visibly Jewish - whether by wearing a Star of David, a skullcap, or simply by being who we are.
We are now at a fork in the road. Anti-Jewish hatred had become normalised and acceptable. This needs to change. Doctors who spout antisemitism should be struck off. University lecturers who promote antisemitic views should be barred from campuses. And those who call for violence against Jews wherever and whenever should be arrested and face the full force of the law.
Today, the Jewish community will come together. We will be anxious. And we will be angry. But we will not be silenced. We will come to remember the 1,200 Jewish people murdered by Hamas terrorists on October 7th. To remember the hostages. And, heartbreakingly, to remember 53-year-old Adrian Daulby and 66-year-old Melvin Cravitz, ordinary people whose only wish was to attend synagogue on our holiest day of the year - and who paid with their lives for doing so.
Our thoughts are with those still recovering from injuries, the Jewish community of Manchester and the families of those killed – may their memories be a blessing.
Karen Pollock is CEO of the Holocaust Education Trust
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