


As families gathered at Sydney’s iconic Bondi Beach for the first night of Hanukkah — a Jewish festival of light, hope and resilience — two Muslim gunmen – a father-son duo – identified by Australian media as 50-year-old Sajid Akram and his 24-year-old son Naveed Akram – opened fire on the crowd, killing at least fifteen people and injuring dozens more.
Australian authorities have rightly classified this as a terrorist incident directed at the Jewish community, and the nation now confronts a stark truth: antisemitic hatred has metastasised far beyond the realms of fringe paranoia.
The victims of this massacre ranged in age from children to the elderly, including a 12‑year‑old girl, a British-born rabbi, and a Holocaust survivor. Witnesses spoke of sheer panic, with scores fleeing down the beach and into nearby streets as the gunmen, reportedly a father and son, fired for precious minutes before being stopped. A bystander tackled one of the shooters — a heroic act that no doubt saved lives — but such bravery should never have been necessary.
Prime Minister Anthony Albanese described the attack as “an act of evil antisemitism” that struck at the heart of Australia’s multicultural ethos. That is no exaggeration. To target a religious minority at worship and celebration is to assault the very idea of civilised society. Australia has long prided itself on tolerance and inclusivity, but tolerance is not a substitute for vigilance against the forces of hatred.
Nor is Sydney an aberration. Over the past twelve months, Jewish communities across Europe and the wider West have been confronted with an unmistakable escalation in hostility that has too often tipped into violence. In France, synagogues have been set ablaze and Jewish schools placed under armed guard following arson attacks and repeated bomb threats. In Germany, police have thwarted multiple plots against Jewish institutions, while antisemitic assaults in Berlin have reached levels not seen in decades. The Netherlands has seen Jewish neighbourhoods subjected to intimidation and vandalism, while in Belgium and Italy Jewish centres now operate behind concrete barriers and armed patrols.
Across the Atlantic, the United States has recorded a surge in shootings, firebombings and threats directed at synagogues and Jewish community centres, prompting the FBI to warn of an “elevated threat environment” for Jewish Americans. Even countries once thought largely immune have not been spared: in Scandinavia, Jewish leaders report routine harassment and the need for permanent police protection at religious events.
What links these incidents is not geography, nor nationality, but ideology. Since the autumn of 2023, antisemitic rhetoric has been normalised in public discourse, often masquerading as political activism. The line between criticism of Israel and hostility towards Jews has been deliberately blurred by extremists who understand precisely what they are doing. History shows where such indulgence leads. When antisemitism is excused, rationalised, or minimised, it does not remain rhetorical for long.
What makes the Bondi massacre especially chilling — beyond its brutality — is its setting: a celebration of Hanukkah, a festival commemorating resistance against persecution. While authorities are still investigating the shooters’ motives, there are grounds to believe antisemitism drove their actions. Extremists increasingly frame Jews as proxies for broader geopolitical conflicts, conflating the policies of Israel with the identity of Jewish communities everywhere.
Social media monitoring has shown that both perpetrators reportedly expressed admiration for such ideologies online, echoing the rhetoric seen in Europe and North America, where hatred of Jews is dressed as political protest. The deliberate targeting of a Hanukkah celebration — a gathering emblematic of Jewish resilience — suggests that their violence was not random, but ideologically calculated. The ideology concerned is Islam, let us not shy away from that fact, and let us not shy away from addressing the fact.
Such provisional speculation aligns with patterns observed over the past year, where antisemitic attacks have escalated from verbal abuse and vandalism to mass-casualty events, demonstrating that ideology, not opportunity alone, motivates such brutality.
Australia has seen a sharp rise in antisemitic incidents in recent years. Jews in major cities have reported threats, harassment, and vandalism with increasing frequency since the outbreak of the Israel‑Gaza conflict in October 2023. The Executive Council of Australian Jewry documented more than a thousand anti-Jewish incidents over a recent twelve-month period — a sobering statistic that should have warned authorities and civil society alike of the tinderbox beneath the surface.
The tragedy at Bondi was not an isolated anomaly; it was the inevitable conflagration of unresolved tension and emboldened bigotry – emboldened by lack of adequate response to a threat openly manifesting itself across the free world.
Yet even now, some commentators caution against conflating the actions of extremists with broader communities. Of course, there is nuance in every long-standing conflict and every political debate. But ambiguity must not become an excuse for denial. Antisemitism is not a matter of opinion; it is a form of prejudice that has recurring, deadly consequences when left unchecked. To dismiss the targeting of Jews in Sydney as anything less than antisemitic terror is to betray both truth and justice.
Israel’s leadership, including Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, has been vocal in pointing out that such acts of hatred do not occur in a vacuum. Recent diplomatic tensions — including Australia’s temporary recognition of a Palestinian state — have, in some quarters, been portrayed as contributing to a climate in which antisemitic rhetoric flourishes. Whether or not one agrees with geopolitical decisions, it is undeniable that political discourse can embolden extremists when grievances are allowed to transmute into bigotry.
Critics will, rightly, caution against equating political criticism of Israeli policy with antisemitism. But there is a clear distinction between legitimate debate over state actions and the dehumanisation of Jewish people as a whole. The chilling lesson of Bondi is that hatred unleashed in one arena quickly metastasises into violence elsewhere.
Australia’s response to the Bondi shooting must be multifaceted. Strengthening anti-terrorism and hate-crime legislation is essential. Police and intelligence agencies must be adequately resourced to monitor credible threats. But legislative action alone is insufficient. Education — especially about the history and consequences of antisemitism — must be strengthened from family dining tables to university campuses. Civil society must make a collective stand, making it unequivocally clear that antisemitic prejudice has no place in a liberal democracy.
At a time when global tensions are high and fears are real, it is tempting — and, in some quarters, fashionable — to minimise or relativise the suffering of a particular group. That route leads only to further tragedy. The victims in Sydney were celebrating light and hope. They did not deserve to be slaughtered because of who they are. Australia must ensure that their deaths mark not just mourning, but transformation.
If there is a lesson from history, it is that the cost of inaction in the face of hatred is measured in human lives. The Bondi Beach massacre should be a catalyst — a call to arms not for vengeance, but for vigilance against bigotry in all its forms. For unless we confront antisemitism with clarity and resolve, the light of hope that Hanukkah represents will continue to be extinguished in the most horrific of ways.
If there is a lesson for today, it is that the free world is not dealing with the Islam of the 7th century, we are dealing with the radical Islam of today.
Europe & UK’s Terrorism Threat picture in 2025: fragmented, hybrid, and persistent