I had an escape route planned.
If I heard someone enter by force from the main entrance, hopefully I’d have enough time to race to the back door, down the stairs outside. And run.
Hopefully.
But what if someone was waiting on the stairs too? And what about everyone else left behind?
This is the reality of being Jewish in 2022 – In Australia. In the world.
Treasurer and Jewish Australian Josh Frydenberg on the rise of antisemitism. Post continues after video.
We don’t really speak of it out loud, but we’re mentally noting the exits, silently devising the quickest way to evacuate our synagogues, schools and communal organisations. Because, what if?
Our institutions are often built with bulletproof glass, without exterior signage – so as to not draw too much attention – are surrounded by high fences and under the watchful eye of CCTV and armed security guards.
It all sounds a bit dramatic. But unfortunately, it’s necessary.
In the past year (October 1, 2020 - September 30, 2021), antisemitism increased by 35 per cent in Australia, according to the Executive Council of Australian Jewry’s (ECAJ) Annual Antisemitism Report.
In Sydney, Jewish school children were threatened by a passing driver, who gestured motions of a spraying machine gun towards them.
In Melbourne, Jewish people had coins thrown at their feet when leaving synagogue.
In Brisbane, a man performed the Nazi salute outside a synagogue and shouted antisemitic slurs before he punched a Jewish man in the face and spat on him.
And in Perth, a Jewish family returned to their home to find it had been broken into, and vandalised with swastikas, antisemitic graffiti and the white supremacist code “14”.
The list goes on. 443 more incidents – and those are just the reported ones.
I know antisemitism too. They were the remarks hurled at me across Year 8 maths class, the casual university “jokes”, stereotypes and micro-aggressions, and the “Christ killer” accusation from the mouth of a friend.
And as the Features Editor at The Australian Jewish News for four years, too many times did I look into the swollen eyes of parents, desperate and distraught, over the antisemitic abuse experienced by their children at school: The Jewish boy that was forced to kiss the feet of an innocent Muslim child, or be bashed; the prep student who broke down and cried, “‘Mummy, you shouldn’t love me. I’m a worthless, Jewish rodent. I’m vermin,’” on his kitchen floor. Then there was the teen who was threatened with a knife in the bathroom; and the brothers who regularly faced ‘Heil Hitler’ chants and were told to “Burn in the oven”.
It’s doesn’t get more personal, and we're not immune to this level of antisemitism too. Not even here in Australia, where far-left extremists espouse antisemitism on university campuses, and Neo-Nazis of the far-right are spread throughout five Australian states. In fact, one such group undertook a training camp in Victoria’s Grampian Ranges a year ago, reportedly in preparation for a “race war”.
As a Jewish person, or for any person of colour or minority: This. Is. Truly. Triggering.
And then there are those individuals who misappropriate, trivialise, and outright deny the Holocaust. Indeed, just last week, the UN General Assembly adopted a resolution aimed at combatting Holocaust denial, calling out the complacency of social media networks and imploring them to remove antisemitic posts. It also urged member states to develop educational programs to ensure future generations learn the lessons of the Holocaust, “in order to help prevent further acts of genocide.”
I know it’s a lot. And most people wouldn’t be aware of the explicit reality of antisemitism in Australia and the world today, because, well, much of it goes under-reported in the mainstream media. That is, unless of course, Jews have been killed, or their lives are directly threatened. But this should not be the only context in which the Jewish experience is discussed. We need to talk about antisemitism – and racism – in all of its forms; and we need to do something about it. Now.
History has shown that the Jews are often the “canary in the coal mine”; the early indicators of worsening conditions ahead. Because it seldom ends with us.
So, conversation is key – and not just in the few days that follow a terror attack – I’m talking about meaningful, ongoing conversation beyond a trending hashtag or an act of performative allyship. We need to call out casual antisemitism, the “jokes” that aren’t funny. And there needs to be zero tolerance and tightened legislation against more serious acts of antisemitism and racially based discrimination, across all Australian states. We need a unified commitment to Holocaust education nationwide, and a strong and consistent stance by politicians, lawmakers, the media and educators.
Because no-one – irrespective of their religion, race or ethnicity – should live in fear to… exist.
Not 89 years ago when the Nazis came to power. Or 77 years ago when the gates of Auschwitz were flung open in liberation. And certainly not today.
I refuse to.
Keen to read more from Rebecca Davis? You can find her articles here, or follow her on Instagram, @rebeccadavis___
Feature Image: Getty/Mamamia.
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