Has Australia betrayed our grandparents?

Following the announcement of a federal Royal Commission on antisemitism in the wake of the Bondi terror attack, our community contributed over 14,000 written submissions.

For many, writing those submissions was cathartic. Since October 7, we remain deeply traumatised, struggling with a profound sense of abandonment and isolation. Our distress is two-tiered.

We have been forced to endure the weekly protests, the university encampments, the persistent vandalism. At the same time, we have had to grapple with the fundamental question: is Australia permanently changed? Is this still our Australia?

Most of Australia’s Jews are the descendants of European refugees – people who fled the pogroms and death camps of Europe. They came to Australia believing it was a country not stained with the same Jew hatred as their birthplace.

And for several decades, Australia delivered on its promise. The country remained a safe place where Jews could excel across every domain. That is partly why the last two-and-a-half years have been so devastating.

We have not only been dealing with an explosion in antisemitism. We have also been processing the profound sense of betrayal Australian antisemitism represents. It raises an uncomfortable question: has Australia ultimately betrayed our grandparents?

Arguably, the answer is yes – especially in the wake of the Bondi attack, and the responses of many Australians to October 7. For a large number of Australian Jews, the sense of betrayal elicits complex emotions. Clearly, there is anger towards Australia for failing to shield its Jewish citizens from the scourge of antisemitism.

However, I believe subconsciously, there is also an anger directed inwards for allowing ourselves to believe Australia was somehow different; that it could avoid being infected with the age-old hatreds that have defined so much of the Jewish historical experience.

At the emotional core of betrayal is a loss of trust. It is a pain driven by the sharp realisation that the expectations we inherited and believed in may have been more vulnerable than we realised. And there is anger towards oneself for having let down one’s guard.

The Royal Commission may ultimately vindicate the Jewish community’s faith in their country. Its findings and recommendations may meaningfully extend what has been, until recently, a golden age for Australian Jews.

My worry is the faith our community is investing in the Royal Commission risks leaving us even more psychologically vulnerable. What if, rather than being a moment of renewal, the Royal Commission proves to be a key moment in the decline of Australia’s Jewish golden age?

We need to be alive to that possibility.

When I think back to the conversations I had with my grandparents about their early lives, they explained that they always expected antisemitism. They never trusted their Polish neighbours, their police or their government. And with good reason.

So, when their generation experienced antisemitism – even violent antisemitism – it was painful. Sometimes it was unbearably painful. However, it never manifested as betrayal. My grandparents never felt let down because they didn’t expect anything different.

My grandfather’s cousin was murdered by her neighbours after surviving the War. The neighbours had occupied her family home after the family was rounded up. The same neighbours killed her when she returned to reclaim her home.

As shocking as that event was, it did not challenge their fundamental worldview. They may not have anticipated it, but it did not shatter their expectations.

I believe that more circumspect outlook profoundly influenced how they experienced the trauma of antisemitism. It made them resilient by narrowing the gap between reality and their expectations.

I had a similar insight several years ago when speaking to an Argentinian Jew. At the time, their government and police were deeply antisemitic. Argentina in the 1990s experienced horrific acts of anti-Jewish violence.

The Argentinian Jew I met explained that the events were shocking but not unexpected. It was that understanding that made them a resilient community, more capable of surviving in a harsh environment.

An important role of the Royal Commission is to ensure that our expectations of Australia – which have remained remarkably positive and stable for the last eight decades – remain current.

I think it is wonderful that the Commissioner received over 14,000 submissions clearly articulating where and how those expectations have been undermined in recent times. We must also continue to pressure government and the community to do better.

Nevertheless, I believe we as Jews should hedge our bets. We should hold our expectations about Australia a little more lightly. The goal is neither pessimism nor panic. We have reason to give Australia the chance to rediscover its safe and welcoming past.

However, we need to be aware that this may never happen. Our capacity to absorb future trauma may depend on it.

Jason Rose is a Jewish dad living in Melbourne.