12/14/2025
As many of us were still asleep, the Jewish community of Sydney gathered at Bondi Beach for a Chabad-led celebration of the first night of Hanukkah, as they have done for many years in the past. In a horrific act of terror and violence, two gunmen opened fire on the crowd, and as of the time of this writing, 15 are now dead, and dozens are wounded. Among those whose lives were taken were the assistant Chabad Rabbi for Bondi Beach, a holocaust survivor, and a 12 year-old girl. Initial police reports say that at least one explosive device was discovered and disarmed in the suspects’ vehicle.
This is a tragedy for the Sydney Jewish community, for Jews everywhere, and for humanity. It is a tragedy that we are becoming all too familiar with. To be a Jew in today’s world is sometimes a dichotomy of extremes. The majority of Jews today live in a world where we can be unapologetically Jewish outside of our homes, to be citizens of the countries in which we live with all the rights, benefits, and opportunities that come with it alongside people of other religions and ethnicities. But it also means that in places like the US, where we are less than 2 percent of the population, violence against Jews accounts for 18 percent of total instances of hate crimes, and nearly 70 percent of religion-based violence. It means that our non-Jewish allies rally around us for support and to give aid and comfort, for which we are eternally grateful, even as others shame us for grieving or even invoke centuries-old bigotry to justify it or even claim that we do it to ourselves.
This act, like all acts of terrorism, is designed to invoke fear so that we will be less public, less Jewish, less rooted in our values and traditions, and less involved in our greater communities. I’m not going to tell you or anyone else to not be afraid, as fear is an unfortunate component of what has kept the Jewish people alive in the face of millennia-old hatreds and cruelty designed to wipe us out. Fear is as natural to feel right now as is grief, rage, sadness, and anger. But fear should not drive us away from doing what is right.
One small light amid this tragedy is a video of a man charging one of the attackers, wrestling the gun away from him, and holding him captive until he could be taken into police custody. Reports say that this man’s name is Ahmed al-Ahmed, a Lebanese-Australian father of two who owns a fruit stand at the beach. I have no idea if he felt any fear, but if he did, his sense of justice and love for his fellow humans certainly overcame that. It is impossible to know how many are still alive and/or uninjured due to Mr. al-Ahmed’s actions, but we can say for certain that he did something in pursuit of the preservation of life, and as our sages say, he that saves one life saves the entire world. In the context of Hanukkah, Mr. al-Ahmed was a true shamash, a helper whose actions ensured that more lights remained in the world rather than being snuffed out.
May those who were injured in this attack have a swift and complete healing of body, mind, and soul. May the memory of those whose lives were taken be made a blessing through love and support for each other. May G-d bring to justice those who shed the blood of innocents for evil.
