Together, we can and will prevail

Solidarity. Strength. Stewardship. These are not abstract slogans—they are lived virtues, forged in fire and refined in fear. A friend of mine—an Israeli father—recently shared a haunting image: his young children in a safe room as rockets rained down on Tel Aviv. Earlier, he had quietly ushered them there with a smile—his soul steeled by necessity, his courage masked by calm. That moment wasn’t just about survival. It was moral leadership under fire.

These scenes may not be isolated. They may be previews of a far darker future—one in which our own children in Western democracies face similar threats if we continue to look away. Imagine if those explosions had carried chemical or nuclear warheads. First fired at Israel. Then at other nations across the Middle East, Europe, or beyond. A genocide—not the imagined one falsely screamed by zealots about Gaza, but a real one. A strike at the heart of the West: free markets, rule of law, women’s rights, pluralism—and the bitter irony of a society that platforms and tolerates those who seek its destruction.

The horror is unspeakable—and may have been realised but for pre-emptive actions taken, consistent with Article 51 of the UN Charter, which affirms every nation’s inherent right of self-defence.

We live in momentous times. As Lenin observed, “There are decades where nothing happens, and there are weeks where decades happen.” This is one of those weeks.

But I don’t want to dwell on geopolitics or meta-trends. The cogs of history are always turning. Instead, I want to focus on individuals—on Israelis I feel a deep kinship with: Jews, Druze, Muslims, and Christians I met while living in Israel from 2019 to 2021. They are in my thoughts—they are my brothers and sisters in their time of need.

They are not merely surviving. They are stewarding a civilisation—rooted in ancient faith and modern vitality. They shelter not just themselves, but values the West once held dear: family, responsibility, discipline, pluralism, truth. If we fail to defend those values in Israel, we risk losing them everywhere.

I’ve been reflecting on Tikkun Olam. Not in the soft, performative tone favoured by celebrity activists, but in the real, faithful work of building, protecting, and persevering. While Greta Thunberg performs outrage for the cameras, others are quietly leading by example. There are leaders in every Israeli town, in every diaspora community, guiding families, supporting neighbours, standing for truth. They are the moral backbone of our time.

C.S. Lewis once wrote, “Hardships often prepare ordinary people for an extraordinary destiny.” And history reminds us: “Hard times create strong men, strong men create good times, good times create weak men, and weak men create hard times.” We appear to be entering hard times again. But I believe the strength, leadership, and moral courage required to meet this moment will rise—even from the innocent eyes staring back into their parents’ camera from a mamad.

To our Jewish Australian community: now is the time for your light to shine. You carry the strength of the Maccabees in your DNA. And together with right-minded non-Jews who stand beside you, we carry the Anzac spirit—a legacy of moral grit, mateship, and honour in the face of adversity. Just as our grandparents rose to the challenges of their time, we too must rise, in ways future generations will look back on with pride.

Now is the time to act—to make things better. Wear your Magen David with pride. Speak with your non-Jewish friends—not to lecture, but to connect. Share your story. Let them see the beauty of Jewish life—not through argument, but through candles, songs, stories, and warm bread. Each week, invite someone different—especially non-Jewish friends—to your Friday night table. Let them witness the strength, warmth, and grace of your tradition.

Once, I got so far ahead of my soldiers during a leadership challenge that when I turned around—no one was there. I had outrun my own team. And I wonder if that’s not also a metaphor for what has happened across Western civilisation. Jewish communities have preserved traditions and moral disciplines for millennia. In my judgment, this—together with faith—is the source of your strength and success. It’s no accident that Jews have risen to the apex of music, the arts, medicine, law, business, and innovation. Meanwhile, much of the wider West—once grounded in the wisdom of Jerusalem, Athens, and Rome—has forgotten. We can help them remember. One conversation, one Shabbat meal at a time. From drops come ripples. From ripples, waves. Where institutions like the ABC and the UN have failed us, community and human connection will recover us.

Let us be lights in this world. Let us be proud of who we are. Let us lead with courage, not retreat in fear. Let us rebuild bridges—across faiths, communities, and generations. Because this isn’t just Israel’s struggle. It’s a struggle for truth. For goodness. For the soul of the West.

As rockets fall, we rise.

As sirens wail, we speak.

As others equivocate, we stand.

Together, we can and will prevail! יחד ננצח

Michael Scott CSC is the CEO and Founder of the 2023 Foundation, a charity focused on combating antisemitism. The views expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not reflect the positions of the Australian Defence Force or the Commonwealth Government of Australia.