Rabbi Daniel Rabin
Rabbi, Caulfield Hebrew Congregation
I was at Caulfield Shule, preparing for our family-friendly Simchat Torah hakafot. The room was set for celebration. Then Josh Frydenberg arrived a few minutes early with his wife and children, and there was a weight in his expression that immediately caught my attention. He asked to speak privately, and I’ll never forget his words: “Israel has been attacked.” My heart sank, but it was the next words that truly knocked the breath out of me – “Rabbi, this is different. They’ve broken through the borders. They’ve taken hostages.”
At that moment, everything stopped. The enormity didn’t sink in all at once. I couldn’t fully comprehend the horror he was describing. Yet there I stood, about to lead children in song and dance, trying to bring joy to a moment that now felt impossible. We pulled ourselves together as best we could, focusing on the children, but as the evening and next day unfolded and more devastating news reached us, it became harder to continue. Even as we danced, I felt the ache of knowing that something unspeakably dark had shattered our world.
Orli Zahava
President, Zionist Council of NSW
Tel Aviv Beach Hotel. Waking up to sirens and a voice booming through speakers at 6:29am, repeating in Hebrew, French, Arabic, Russian and English, “Emergency, emergency, leave now, go down to the basement levels,” was surreal. With my 16-year-old daughter and husband, we moved quickly to the stairwell that runs like a spine through the cylindrical Isrotel Tower. We were on the 20th floor, with sweeping views. Just before leaving the apartment, in a bleary panic, my daughter and I paused to glance outside. White plumes hung in mid-air, and strange white lines streaked through the sky.
Everything was moving so fast. As we made our way down the stairs, we passed people in varying stages of panic. I stopped briefly to speak with an older Israeli woman, who said to me in Hebrew, “They’re inside, the terrorists are inside.” I registered her words but kept moving, deciding not to tell my husband and daughter what I had just heard.
We finally reached the bottom, two floors below ground level. We ventured into the hotel’s bowels, through commercial kitchens and laundry rooms, where staff were working as though nothing was happening. Then we found a mostly empty staff dining room. The television was on, and a man was watching the news. We sat down at a table, trying to piece together what was happening. A young Ukrainian security guard came in to grab some food and ended up sitting with us. “Don’t worry,” he said, trying to reassure us. “Israel is strong. The IDF is strong. Israel will crush Hamas.”
Photo: AP/Yousef Masoud
Rabbi Shua Solomon
President, Rabbinical Council of NSW
Just as I was heading into shule to begin the Simchat Torah celebrations, someone said to me that there had been an attempted large terrorist attack in Israel. It was only about half way through the evening that the extent of what was happening began to filter through to those who observe Yom Tov and didn’t have regular access to news.
Throughout the night and the next day, although we kept on dancing, the joy was tinged with sadness and the upbeat melodies mixed with sad soulful tunes. Looking back, I wonder whether it was the right thing to keep dancing at all. Nothing really prepared us for the news as Yom Tov came out and we turned on our phones, despite the many stories we had heard in the 24 hours prior. Almost a year later it is still hard to imagine that this happened to the Jewish people during my lifetime.
Josh Burns MP
Federal Member for Macnamara
I was at home, sitting on the couch, and news started to trickle in that there had been a terrorist attack in Israel.
In Australia, we have all become so desensitised to what our Israeli family and friends go through, that I assumed it was another rocket attack. As more news started to come in, I knew what was happening was unimaginable.
And frankly, I wouldn’t have believed the extent of the damage if I didn’t go and see it with my own eyes. I travelled to Israel in December last year and saw the devastation of Kfar Aza and the surrounding towns and spoke to survivors of the Nova festival and heard firsthand about the absolutely shattering brutality of what Hamas did.
I know that it will take generations to overcome the destruction. It set the region and the world back. It should never be forgotten.
David Ossip
President, NSW Jewish Board of Deputies
I was sitting with a group of close friends at a friend’s house when the news started to trickle in. What began with alerts about an unusually large barrage of rockets being fired at southern Israel soon morphed into images of Hamas paragliders on social media.
By the time that reports started to emerge that Israeli communities had been infiltrated, conversation had come to a complete halt as the gravity of what was transpiring began to sink in.
Almost immediately, as the sun set and Simchat Torah came in, the work of the NSW JBD began to both support and secure the community at a time of acute distress and disorientation.
Rabbi Allison Conyer
Rabbi, Temple Beth Israel
After Shabbat lunch with my family, I collapsed for a Shabbos shloof. At 3pm, my phone rang – unusual for Shabbat. It was the shule president, who knew to call only in emergencies. Groggy, I answered. She said, “Something bad has happened in Israel. An attack. Should we cancel Simchat Torah?” Confused, I responded, “Absolutely not.”
I reached out to an Israeli friend in Melbourne. Panicked, she told me this was unlike any previous attack – terrorists had come by sea, land and air. I tried calling family and friends in Israel, but couldn’t get through. I went online. Images of terrorists parachuting into Israel. Sounds of gunshots and screaming.
Despite this horror, I was determined not to cancel Simchat Torah. I was determined not to let the terrorists impede our right or ability to celebrate our Judaism.
However, our community was in shock and grieving, so we compromised.
With reduced participation, we held services with just three hakafot instead of seven, acknowledging the dampening of our joy.
Then, we all went home, awaiting what was to come. Who knew that our world was to be forever changed that fateful day?
Ron Hoenig MP
NSW Minister for Local Government
The barbarity of the attack left me speechless. As the child of a Holocaust survivor, I was overwhelmed by the chilling realisation that this was the largest massacre of Jews since the extermination that claimed most of my family. A few years ago, I stood on the sand dunes in Kalevi-Liiva, Estonia. Under those sands lie the remains of my grandparents, who were shot naked into trenches alongside over 2000 other Jews. Flashbacks flooded my mind – of standing on those dunes, of my visits to Auschwitz, Theresienstadt, Jägala, where my mother was first imprisoned, and Dachau. The words “Never again” suddenly felt so hollow.
In my shock, I messaged my cousin in Israel to check if the family was safe. The barbaric acts of violence are utterly condemnable, leading to unimaginable loss and suffering.
But these attacks have also ignited a terrifying surge in antisemitism, a poison that tears at the fabric of our shared humanity. This hatred, which fuels violence against Jews everywhere, must be eradicated. We owe it to the memory of all those who were lost on October 7, to stand together and say, “Never again,” and this time, mean it.
Rabbi Jacqueline Ninio
Rabbi, Emanuel Synagogue
My father passed away between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. We had a few hours of shiva before Kol Nidrei and the shloshim ended a few days later, with the beginning of Succot. I was reeling from Dad’s sudden death and that the usual mourning periods were cut short by the festival calendar.
I felt that I had not had the chance to grieve and take time to mourn before Simchat Torah arrived. I attended services but stepped outside for the dancing, it was too overwhelming to be in a space of such celebration as I was mired in grief. As I waited alone, separated from the community, I heard the first whispers of something happening in Israel. At that moment, I had no idea of the magnitude, the horror of what was unfolding; I only knew that there was something happening on the Gaza border. I said a silent prayer while the music and dancing wafted through, not knowing that it was the last time for over a year, the community would dance without the darkness of the events ignited with the terror of that day, casting its shadow on everything and everybody.
Sam Parasol
Melbourne businessman, Glen Eira Councillor
I was at Caulfield Shule to celebrate Simchat Torah. I was approached by many congregants asking have you heard or do you know about Israel being attacked.
As it was Yom Tov the information was minimal. But this was no ordinary Simchat Torah.
I felt shock, emptiness, dismay and distress – I had no words. How could this be true or even real? Israel would not allow this! Israel’s IDF is supreme and I don’t believe it is possible that this is happening.
As the hours passed the news became real with images, pictures and stories. We called our family and friends and our feelings changed to fear and anger. Then to make it worse at the Sydney Opera House there were violent anti-Israel demonstrations.
Israel was attacked and our people who were stricken are suddenly the guilty ones and not the victims. On a personal note, our granddaughter Tara was close to the attacks in Jerusalem as she was on an Ohrsom program. Her parents were overcome with fear for her safety. They tried for a week to bring her home as did many other parents. But Tara had unfinished business. She came home for nine hours and that same night flew back to join the program in Europe just to complete it.
Alex Kats
Writer / Enthusiast / Contributor
Of all the Jewish festivals, Simchat Torah is my least favourite because I believe it has become corrupted by alcohol and misplaced merriment. It should be a celebration of the Torah, not an excuse for drunkenness. Nonetheless, I still always go to shule, but I usually choose a shule that limits the alcohol limits of its congregants on that day. And so it was on the evening of 7 October 2023 that I walked into a shule with no knowledge of anything that had taken place in Israel in the last few hours, having been out earlier in the day.
The first I heard of anything out of the ordinary at all, was before the celebrations were about to begin, the rabbi stood up and said that on behalf of the community, we needed to say extra Psalms and pray for our brethren in Israel.
Almost immediately there were murmurs throughout the room because like me, so many were in the dark about what was going on. So we said the Psalms and then for the next 15-20 minutes, I have no idea what actually happened during the service because I was engrossed in conversations about what was potentially going on. We heard that some Israelis had been killed and there were rumours that terrorists (were they Hamas or some other group?) had penetrated some areas in southern Israel, maybe around Gaza, but we knew little else. Eventually the celebrations for Simchat Torah began and whilst the rumours kept swirling, the joyous dancing progressed as normal. By the morning when I came back to another shule, the mood was sombre, much of the joy was gone and the alcohol was nowhere to be seen.
The service and the dancing associated with Simchat Torah still happened, but in a muted and almost soulless manner. By the next day, monuments around town were lit up in blue and white because much of the community understood the gravity what had happened, but even then we knew if wouldn’t be long before the tide turned, and so it was. This year, as we lead up to both October 7 and Simchat Torah, the mood will again be sombre and restrained, but also hopeful that one day this conflict will end so that the biggest question in the community will again be, how much alcohol should be consumed on Simchat Torah. In the meantime, it is a time for reflection and mourning.
AJN Reader:
My partner, Ronni, and I were, on Friday night 6th October at a dinner party at friends in Netanya. It was a glorious autumn night and reconnecting with Ronni’s friends from over 50 years, all of whom live in Israel. We then returned to our hotel, the Sheraton Tel Aviv for a peaceful and joyful night’s sleep. We woke up early Saturday morning 7th October, to a message from my relatives in Hadera who were coming to Tel Aviv to have breakfast with us. The message stated that breakfast will need to be put off as they had been advised to go to their shelters. Ronni and I turned on the TV ( Israel Channels 12 and 13) at around 7am to the shocking sight of white pick-up trucks loaded with armed Hamas fighters and watched in horror, live, as they shot at passing motorists and anyone in their vicinity and then proceeded to walk around the beautiful gardened and flowered streets of Sderot and other areas blowing up gates and entering properties, all the while filming, shooting and shouting their slogans ( they profess to love God but they are really God haters). As you can imagine, these are images indelibly tattooed into my minds and recur frequently in my dreams, as if it were happening now. As an aside, October 7th is my daughter’s birthday, so I was looking to not only meet up with my Israeli family, but to connect with my daughter in Sydney. A double celebration that day should have been.
AJN Reader:
On October 7th last year, I was the General Manager for the ARK Centre and I was on the way to prepare for Simchat Torah when a friend called me to tell me that Israel had been invaded and how 100’s was being murdered and taken hostage. It was beyond belief, and I could not comprehend the enormity of the tragedy which was unfolding. I stood in the kitchen preparing for what was meant to be a celebration listening to Noa Tishby with tears in my eyes.
AJN Reader, Beau:
The pain I felt on October 7 is indigestible and I still can’t find the words so describe it. I was with my family at the time and playing with my little cousins when my phone started blowing up with notifications from tzofar (a missile alert app) and immediately I ran and told my parents in shock, at this time we weren’t in any intense battles so it was unusual. It kept on going and going and going and I was talking with my friends in Israel and they were telling me how missiles were falling everywhere and my friends school was even hit in Ashkelon. terrified and stressed I had no clue what was happening, I had to go to work so I thought I could take my mind off it, on the way to work I see a notification saying “terrorists have infiltrated into the Gaza envelope, reports of soldiers and civilians being taken into Gaza are under review” my heart dropped. I worked that whole night in pain and I even cried, im not the type to cry and especially not at work. I was constantly checking the news and seeing photos of Israeli civilians at gun point and being dragged into Gaza is something no one should have to see. I was only 15 when I saw these photos. I still can’t believe it and my heart breaks for everyone. I’m praying for better days and for an Israeli victory. על ישראל חי וביחד ננצח
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