UIA x Eitan Chitayat: I’m That Hopeful Jew
'After weeks of protest footage, videos of emaciated hostages, and stories of our students being harassed, this night brought something back to life'
Last week, more than 650 people walked into the UIA, AJF, ZFA and ZV “I’m That Jew” event with Eitan Chitayat feeling exhausted, raw and burdened by a week that had felt particularly heavy for our community. By the end of the night, they left with something many hadn’t expected to find. Hope.
Eitan was brought to Australia by the Lewis Family Foundation after Phil Lewis met him on the beach in Tel Aviv in March this year and was captivated by his message. In return, Eitan brought energy. He brought conviction. Most importantly, he brought practical clarity and pride. As one attendee put it, “He reminded us who we are, and why that is worth fighting to preserve.”
The conversation was moderated by Zara Cooper, also known as Clammy Fraud. Her online presence has made her a key voice against digital antisemitism. Where Eitan represents the extroverted, hopeful, passionate face of modern Jewish advocacy, Zara brings the sharp, unrelenting, no-nonsense voice of the online frontlines. Her questions were precise and poignant. “How do we say, ‘I’m that Zionist Jew’ with pride? How do we reclaim that word? How do we help people understand that antisemitism and anti-Zionism are not different things?”
Eitan and Zara didn’t shy away from the complexity. Instead, they gave it language. Eitan explained that when we let others define Zionism for us, the fight becomes harder. The first step is knowing our own story, then telling it over and over with pride.
Eitan, not one to sit still or preach from a lectern, was on his feet engaging with the audience most of the night. He asked people to stand and declare what kind of Jew they are. One person said they’re the “proud Zionist Jew”. Another, “I’m a mensch, trying to show kindness to the world, Jew.”
A woman working in a deeply leftist space stood up and shared that she wears her Magen David to work every day and speaks proudly about being Jewish even when it’s uncomfortable. Others stood to represent spiritual Jews, cultural Jews, and even non-Jews. Allies who were there in solidarity. Indeed, when Eitan asked the non-Jews to stand, the room erupted into a standing ovation, thanking them for showing up for us.
This wasn’t just another Jewish community event. It was a reckoning with where we are and a call to arms for where we need to go. “We’ve lost the narrative battle, not the war,” Eitan said. “And now that we are awake and aware, we are the smartest, most resourceful, most creative, most impactful people on the planet. If we have our resolve and conviction, we can move mountains. But we need to remember that the cavalry isn’t coming and no one else is going to do it for us.”
This was the message that sat at the core of the night. Stop waiting for others. Don’t wait for Jewish organisations. Don’t wait for the State. Don’t wait for your parents or grandparents. Don’t wait for the government. The responsibility to defend, represent and reclaim our story rests with each of us. “I’m not here to tell you to be the same Jew,” he said. “We don’t need uniformity. We need unity.”
Throughout the night, Eitan emphasised the urgent need to invest in telling our own story. The Jewish story. The Zionist story. The story of who we are and what we stand for. “We have not done a good job with narrative. We haven’t invested in it properly, especially Zionism. Most of us don’t even know how to tell that story. But it’s not your fault. Maybe it’s all of ours. So first, be aware. Second, ask: what do we do now?”
His answer? Start small. Start somewhere. Wear the “I’m That Jew” t-shirt to work, or better yet, as Ashley Lewis stood up and explained he had done -“wear it to the MCG and on the train ride home.” Stand tall in Jewish spaces. And louder still in spaces that make you feel small. “Be the purveyors of truth. The narrative has been hijacked. But we can take it back. And we’ve just begun.”
That’s the spirit people left with. A sense of beginning. After weeks of protest footage, videos of emaciated hostages, and stories of our students being harassed, this night brought something back to life. It offered the reassurance that we can still build, still tell our story, still carry our identity forward. Not quietly. Not cautiously. But courageously.
That’s what “I’m That Jew” meant by the end of the night. Not just a campaign. A call. A choice. A belief in who we are and who we can still be. I’m that hopeful Jew. And I know I’m not the only one.
Justine Pearl is a freelance writer, creative, crafter and proud Zionist, currently writing for the people of Israel via UIA.
comments