Let’s be as relentless in showing our Jewish pride as our oppressors are in their hate

On Yom Kippur this year, one of my children turned to me in synagogue and said he felt at home. It was a simple comment, but I knew exactly what he meant. He was saying, ‘We belong.’ These are our people. 

I felt the same thing a couple of weeks ago, standing before a packed shul in London at the fifth Bishnat concert, which I established in my father’s memory. He loved music and his heritage and cared deeply about Jewish continuity. Nothing would have pleased him more than the sight of that full room.

I often wonder what I would tell my father if he were here today. He always said the truth is a good place to start. So here it is: the past three years have been tough. They have been relentless.

Israel has lived with war and an existential threat every single day. Here in Britain, antisemitism is increasingly treated as normal. Children think twice about wearing a Magen David to school. Parents choosing a university no longer ask which is best for their child but which is safest. Jewish buildings need extraordinary security. These are not abstract concerns. They shape the choices people make every day, and they are changing ordinary British life. How did this happen?

I have watched the change up close. The concerts began in 2022 as something innocent: an evening of chazanut to honour my father. Then came 7 October 2023. That year’s concert was a few weeks away, and we could not find anywhere to hold it. Jewish institutions in London were frightened to host an evening of music. That taught me what British Jews were facing.

The 7 October attack was horrific. But what followed was its own awakening. Under the guise of criticism of Israel, outright hatred of Jews became increasingly acceptable. A line was crossed. Disagreement gave way to harassment and intimidation.

Extremism does not set out to win an argument. It aims to make the price of speaking up feel too high. People censor themselves, institutions give way or give in, and silence becomes the norm. That is coercion, not debate, and it is how freedoms are lost. That is why antisemitism is not only a Jewish problem. It is a test of Britain’s own values.

So what do we do? I believe there are two answers. The first is pride. One day my children will look back on this period and ask me, ‘When the Jewish people were at war and Israel was under attack, what did you do? ‘ Did you hide, or did you stand? Did you dim, or did you shine?

This year’s concert theme was Be the Light. To me, that simple phrase says so much. It reminds me that we will not be defined by those who hate us but by what we love: our families, our faith, our heritage, our people, and the State of Israel, whose resilience astonishes me daily. I am a proud and unashamed Zionist, not only because I believe in our right to an ancestral homeland, but also because the people of Israel, not least the IDF soldiers and their families, show up every day, and that deserves our support.

The second answer is alliance. Jews cannot fight antisemitism and hatred of Israel alone, nor should we. Over recent months, people from different faiths and backgrounds have come to me quietly to say, ‘We understand, and we are with you.’ That chorus is growing, but it is not loud enough yet. We must keep building it with the decent, hard-working people of this country who see the same dangers we do and say together, ‘No to sectarianism, no to racial hatred, no to intimidation.’

British Jews are the canary in the coal mine. What is done to us today is a warning about what this country could become tomorrow. That gives us a duty to speak up, and not only for ourselves.

My father liked to say that attack is the best form of defence. He did not mean force. He meant action: showing up when it would be easier to stay at home. So many people in our community are already doing that. But we need to do more.

We must be as relentless as those who oppose us. We will not apologise for our history. We will not surrender our identity. We will never abandon our homeland. We will carry forward, with pride, what our parents gave us, so our children always know who they are and where they belong. That is how we will be the light.