The Bondi Bridge: Why an Australian Tragedy Demands a Global Response

Sydney is my second home. I got married there 25 years ago, and I have maintained deep business and family ties to the community ever since. But on a late December day, just before Sabbath, I wasn’t there for business. I stood at the Bondi Pavilion—steps away from the grass where the Hanukkah massacre occurred—to bridge a gap of thousands of miles with a simple stack of paper. I was there to deliver cards from children at nearly a dozen Los Angeles schools, two more from New York and the Bnai Brith Girls Dvash Chapter of Northridge.

This wasn’t just a delivery; it was a defiance of the silence that often follows such horrors. When I met with Rabbi Ulman at the Chabad of Bondi—a man who tragically lost both his son-in-law and his “right-hand” rabbi in the attack—I presented more than just letters. I handed him $500 raised by an eight-year-old girl in LA who emptied her tzedakah, charity, box, alongside a piece of art from her six-year-old sister. These small gestures carry the weight of a Jewish diaspora that refuses to look away.

A Global Shadow of Fear

Why should a reader in Los Angeles or New York care about a tragedy on a beach in Australia? Because the Bondi massacre wasn’t an isolated incident; it was a local eruption of a global fever, a culmination of the hatred of Jewish people, from children to the elderly. Since the day of that cowardly act against Jews lighting Hannukkah candles at one of Australia’s most iconic beaches, a chilling shadow has stretched across Jewish communities worldwide. From London to Los Angeles, the sense of “safe haven” has been shattered.

Parents are now forced to have “the talk” with their children about why their schools need armed guards and why they might need to hide their Star of David necklace in public. This collective trauma creates a sense of powerlessness that can be paralyzing. When a community as vibrant and integrated as Sydney’s can be targeted in such a barbaric fashion, it sends a message to every Jew in the diaspora: You are not as safe as you think. This is a conversation I have had with my dual US Australian teenage children, the grandchildren of Auschwitz survivors,  who live in Los Angeles and also grew up on Bondi Beach, the most beloved and carefree place in the world for them prior to December 14, 2025.

From Trauma to Agency

In the face of rising global antisemitism, our children feel this vulnerability most acutely. They hear the hushed, worried tones of their parents and see the increased security at their schools and synagogues. My goal with this initiative—supported by The Brigade, a network of entertainment leaders dedicated to confronting antisemitism through storytelling—was to replace that fear with agency.

I wanted these kids to know they have a voice. By writing to the injured survivors and families of victims in Bondi, they weren’t just “processing” a tragedy; they were participating in the ancient Jewish tradition of Areivut—the idea that all Jews are responsible for one another. The fact that the Sydney Jewish Museum is now archiving some of these letters proves that these “small gestures” are, in fact, historical markers of our resilience.

A Call for Accountability

We must be clear-eyed about why this happened. The Bondi massacre was facilitated by systemic failures in the Australian government and police. Their inability to recognize and neutralize the threat before it reached the Pavilion is a cautionary tale for every Western democracy.

We cannot afford to wait for the next tragedy to demand better. We need genuine engagement from leadership to protect Jewish life, not just in Sydney, but everywhere the diaspora calls home. This effort was a small window of action before the holiday break, but its purpose is eternal: to ensure that when the darkness of antisemitism rises, the response from the global community is louder, brighter, and completely unbreakable.