Melbourne used to be a safe haven for Jews. Now, the walk to synagogue is dangerous and unpredictable
Benjamin Klein used to walk to his Melbourne synagogue in peace but since Hamas’ October 7 attack on Israel, he has been copping anti-Semitic abuse from strangers. Here’s how life has changed for the Jewish community over the past two years.
Benjamin Klein once considered Melbourne a sanctuary.
As a boy, walking to synagogue on a Friday night was a fearless and peaceful experience, with the exception of the odd idiot throwing an egg out of a car window.
To Klein, that could happen in Richmond or South Yarra, to a man wearing boardshorts and thongs.
But in the past two years since Hamas’ October 7 massacre and Israel’s deadly response, triggered a sea of endless rage over the ongoing Gaza war, the weekly walk has been unpredictable, and at times, frightening.
“I could be walking on the street on a Friday night with my eight-year-old son to the synagogue, and somebody will drive past, the car slows down, and they start screaming at my son and I, you baby killers, free Gaza,” he says.
“They identify me to that conflict even though they don’t even know my opinions.”
“That is pure hatred.”
The hatred turned to violence in December last year when Klein’s Ripponlea synagogue, Adass Israel, was destroyed in a firebombing allegedly ordered by Iran’s Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps.
Ten months on, Klein’s quiet but proud congregation have just spent its first Jewish New Year inmakeshift synagogue with 600 people packed in.
“Life goes on,” he says.
“Prayers haven’t stopped and community gatherings haven’t stopped … we are very much still functioning.”
Construction on a new synagogue is expected to begin in the first half of next year, made possible by government grants and generous community donations.
Whether the support of some sections of the community can overcome the hatred in others – and return Melbourne to its former self – is a question Mr Klein wrestles with.
“The expression which has been used is that the genie is out of the bottle,” he says.
“And you can’t put it back in.”
Prominent Melbourne Holocaust survivor Nina Bassat is also sceptical things will return to normal for the city’s Jewish community.
She fears the past two years of heightened tensions, which have forced Jews going about their daily lives to be cautious of their surroundings, could be the new normal.
“I have no confidence that Melbourne will return to its previous relative harmony even if a peace agreement is reached,” she says.
“We have lost the ability to speak to each other with civility or empathy.”
Bassat was in Israel when Hamas terrorists breached the border and slaughtered more than 1200 people.
“The Australia we came back to was no longer the Australia we left less than two weeks earlier,” she says.
By then, the now-infamous Sydney Opera House protests in which men allegedly chanted ‘f--k the Jews’ as mutilated Jewish bodies burned in south Israel, had been broadcast on the world stage.
“Un-condemned and unchecked, these protests were enabled and grew, as did the underlying anti-Semitism,” she says.
The younger generation, however, hadn’t realised what was lurking in the shadows.
For Lior Aufgang, 27, life post October 7 means avoiding clothing with Hebrew words or wearing his kippah on the street, and the CBD is essentially a no-go zone on Sundays.
It’s a world he never thought he’d live in.
“I was naive to the amount of hate that could be inside this city and country,” he says.
“Most of these people can’t even point to Israel on a map, they may never have spoken to a Jewish person in their life … and they’re giving their opinion.”
Aufgang, who works as a consultant, has some faith that Melbourne can return to what it once was.
But believes we could “so easily go down the same path”.
Melbourne writer Lee Kofman is the author of new book Ruptured, a collection of 36 Australian women stories post October 7.
She hopes one day Melbourne will be different but for now her world has been altered indefinitely.
Kofman was the administrator of a WhatsApp chat in which 600 Jewish creatives were doxxed last year.
“There are still bad actors out there who have my details,” she says, adding that she still gets abused online.
“Many of the creatives in our group have lost professional opportunities, reputation and income because of the lies spread about us, including myself.”
The scandal prompted the federal government to introduce doxxing laws, although Ms Kofman notes nobody has been charged yet.
“When I moved to Australia at the end of 1999, I decided almost immediately that Melbourne was where I wanted to live, especially because of its booming arts scene,” she says.
“But these days I no longer feel safe or accepted for who I am.”
