Our future must be based on inspiration, not fear

In the wake of the cowardly arson attack aimed at the former headquarters of Jewish Futures in Hendon, there is a natural instinct to close ranks, to focus on security, to speak in the language of threat and defence. We must do that, of course – but that is not all we must do. 

To my fellow Jews, I want to suggest something that may sound counterintuitive at a moment like this. We simply cannot allow antisemitism to become the central organising principle of how we engage our young people.

Of course we must protect. The reality we are living through demands it. Security guards, cameras, barriers- these are no longer optional. But they are not a vision. They are a necessity born of circumstance, not a roadmap leading to a vibrant nor desired future for our younger generation.

If our message to the next generation becomes one primarily of fear, of the harm some wish to do to us, of how we must constantly defend ourselves, then we risk hollowing out the very identity we are trying to preserve.

Jewish continuity has never ultimately depended on how well we defend ourselves, but on how deeply we understand ourselves.

This week’s announcement of the closure of a major Jewish school should give us pause for thought. It is a sobering reminder that alongside the external pressures we face, there are internal challenges that are no less urgent. Engagement, belonging, meaning- these cannot be assumed. They must be built, sustained and maintained by our community.

Which is why our response to moments like this must be twofold. Yes, we strengthen security. But at the very same time, we must intensify our efforts to inspire and to educate in order to ensure our future.

We need to raise a generation of young Jews who are not defined by the hostility around them, but by the richness within them. Young people who feel connected to our story, to our people, to our purpose. That kind of identity is not easily shaken.

And that requires serious investment- not only in formal schooling, important as that is, but in the often underestimated world of informal education. In experiences that bring Judaism to life. In encounters that create belonging. In journeys, conversations and communities that allow young people to explore, question and ultimately choose their place within our Jewish story.

These are not side projects. They are the foundation.

At the same time, it would be a mistake to see what happened in Hendon as an issue for the Jewish community alone.

To my fellow British citizens, this moment carries a broader warning.

Jews have sometimes been described as the canary in the coal mine. The first group to sense when something in society is going wrong. The first to be targeted when tensions rise. But never the last.

When hatred towards Jews begins to surface more openly, it is rarely contained. It signals something deeper- a fraying of the norms that hold a society together.

Britain has long prided itself on its culture of debate. Strong opinions, sharply expressed, but grounded in a shared commitment to reason and to the rule of law. When I studied at the LSE, the expectation was clear- argue as forcefully as you like, but violence has no place in the conversation.

That foundational principle of liberal democracy must not be allowed to erode.

Once violence, or the legitimisation of violence, is allowed to creep into public life, even at the margins, it has a way of expanding. What begins at the extremes does not remain there.

We need urgently to ask ourselves how we have reached a point where extreme ideas can be so easily amplified, where disagreement can so quickly become dehumanisation, where rhetoric can tip into weaponised action.

Education again sits at the heart of this.

A healthy education system should equip young people to think critically, to engage with difference, to debate without descending into hostility. Yet increasingly we are seeing environments where opposing views are shut down rather than examined, where certainty replaces curiosity, and where intolerance can take root unchecked.

If we are serious about the kind of country we want to be, we need to recover the habits of open, respectful debate.

This is not simply about standing against antisemitism. It is about standing for something larger- a society in which disagreement does not lead to animosity, and where difference does not lead to violence.

The attack in Hendon was aimed at a building. But its implications reach far beyond bricks and mortar.

How we respond to this ugly scourge of violent hatred, both as a Jewish community and as a nation- will determine the kind of future we shall share together for generations to come.

Rabbi Naftali Schiff is Chief Executive of Jewish Futures