"Dirty Jew" in Paradise: Why I Left the Good Life in Sydney to Fight for Israel’s Soul

It is Sunday afternoon in Tel Aviv on the eve of the first candle of Hanukkah 5786.

I spoke with my mother, my teacher, may she live long. She is ninety years old and lives in Sydney among our extensive family which includes six children, dozens of grandchildren and great grandchildren, and entire families. Mere minutes later the news arrived. There was a shooting incident at a Hanukkah candle lighting event at Bondi Beach, a place where I frequently spent my youth.

I was asked to write my opinion on the state of Sydney Jewry and the question of antisemitism in light of my decision to make Aliyah to Israel some thirty years ago.

I chose to move to Israel not out of economic distress or social exclusion. My family was well known, established, and integrated. Yet even then, three decades ago, I experienced a recurring phenomenon. There were slurs on public transport, in the street, and from passing cars such as "Dirty Jew" and "Go home." A kippah on the head was enough. The message was clear, blunt, and unfiltered.

I understood that even if Sydney is a magnificent and wealthy city with a quality of life among the highest in the world, it has an invisible border. It has a threshold that might close in a moment of truth.

I did not rush to eulogize Sydney. On the contrary, it is a successful and vibrant Jewish community with educational, cultural, religious, and community institutions that are among the most impressive in the Diaspora. Yet alongside this, there was always a deep layer of hostility, resentment, and potential threat.

My family biography did not allow me to ignore this.

My father and teacher, the late Prof. Frederick Ehrlich, was one of the founders of central Jewish institutions in Australia and Masada College. He used to tell how, as a ten year old boy in his hometown of Chernivtsi, a magnificent German cultural city, he remembered the morning after the murder of the Chief Rabbi and the burning of the Great Synagogue.

Only years later did I understand the weight of that memory. Ninety percent of the city's Jews were exterminated. The community of nearby Sadigura was also burned and destroyed. Those who survived were scattered across the globe.

My father was among the passengers of the illegal immigrant ship that was stopped off the shores of Haifa in 1946. Refused entry by the British, it returned to Europe, and he eventually arrived in Sydney. There, with the help of the JDC, he rebuilt his life through studies, medicine, surgery, and civic contribution, eventually receiving the Order of Australia for his contribution to society.

But the rehabilitation did not erase the memory.

In the last year I visited Chernivtsi. I saw the Great Synagogue which had become a Ukrainian national museum. I visited Sadigura and once again saw that the synagogue there was set on fire in an antisemitic attack.

A fire in 1942. A fire in 2025. A shooting at Bondi Beach. The heart asks what has truly changed.

I myself led Zionist youth movements in Sydney, served as a community rabbi, was Dean of a Jewish college at the University of Sydney, a member of the NSW Jewish Board of Deputies, and was active in most community mechanisms.

As a researcher of Judaism, editor of an encyclopedia of Jewish diasporas and Jewish thought for the 21st century, and as someone currently running for the Presidency of the State of Israel, I cannot ignore the accumulating evidence. Diaspora Jewry is in increasing danger.

One can, like Jabotinsky, call on Jews to come home. I indeed say this. Prepare yourselves. Train your children. Build the conditions for Aliyah to Israel. Ensure you have a land of refuge in times of emergency.

However, this is not my only conclusion.

The challenge is not only geographic but ideological.

The Jewish message must be renewed. Not as isolationism but as global leadership. We need a Judaism that places human satisfaction, the fulfillment of will, and the utility of information for life at its center, translated into contemporary moral, educational, technological, and spiritual metrics.

Jews, Christians, Muslims, liberals, and lovers of truth can and must meet around this shared value axis.

Those who do not struggle against the doctrinal vacuum of anti Zionist Islam will not be able to bring the masses.

Judaism must offer a deep intellectual infrastructure for Muslim and Christian education, for courageous interfaith dialogue, and for a global alliance of values.

The seven branches of the Menorah are not just a symbol but a template for abundance, light, oil, balance, and a full life.

At the same time, we have a duty to speak the truth internally as well.

Failed, corrupt, and detached administrative and legal conduct within Israel itself harms the status of the State and the Jewish people globally. A system that does not serve the individual and is not measured by human satisfaction generates hatred from both inside and outside.

The struggle for the future of the Jews is not only against antisemitism but for a smart, moral, transparent, and respectful administration.

Only in this way will the honor of Israel return, and only in this way will a broad alliance of seekers of peace and truth converge.

How long will we halt between two opinions?

If Baal be God, follow him.

And if the Lord be God, the God of Life, Will, and Liberty, then follow Him.