In Those Days and In This Time: The Miracle of Hanukkah, Israel’s Responsibility, and Jewish Anxiety Around the World

This evening we will light the Hanukkah candles and recite, as we always do: “Who performed miracles for our ancestors in those days, at this time.”

An ancient blessing, a familiar text, yet it feels as though it has never carried such immediate, contemporary meaning.

This morning, on my way to work, almost simultaneously, two events took place on opposite ends of the globe.

In Australia, a horrific terror attack targeted a Jewish community seeking to celebrate Hanukkah. Initial reports speak of more than ten people murdered, for one reason alone: they wanted to light candles and live as Jews.

Emergency personnel respond to a mass shooting at a Hanukkah celebration at Bondi Beach, Sydney, Australia, December 14, 2025.
Emergency personnel respond to a mass shooting at a Hanukkah celebration at Bondi Beach, Sydney, Australia, December 14, 2025. (credit: The Jerusalem Post)

Terror attack stopped in the Hebron area

At that very same time, a terror attack was thwarted by paratroopers in the Hebron area.

Two events. Two worlds. One story.

In those days, Jews were targets, attacked, murdered, humiliated, simply for being Jewish.

And at this time, supposedly, something was meant to be different.

We have a Jewish state.

We have sovereignty.

We have an army, security forces, and intelligence services meant to protect not only our physical lives, but the very existence of the greatest miracle of the modern Jewish era: the State of Israel.

Yet from within this strength arises a painful and troubling question:

Is the State of Israel fulfilling its mission toward the Jewish people as a whole, or has it narrowed that mission to the borders of the Green Line and the blue ID card (the Israeli national identity card held by all Israeli citizens, Jews and Arabs alike)?

The role of Israel’s government is not only to protect its citizens. That is a basic prerequisite.
But the nation state of the Jewish people bears a broader responsibility: a moral, historical, and national responsibility for the safety of Jews everywhere.

Yes, this is a complex task, legally, diplomatically, and security-wise.

Yes, not every country is willing or able to accept Israeli involvement.

But no one can, and no one may, abdicate this responsibility.

Last week I visited the United States. I met far too many Jews who speak in whispers, who look over their shoulders before acknowledging they are Jewish, who remove symbols, who hide their identity.
Many of them repeated the same sentence, again and again:

“What the last two years feel like reminds us of the 1930s.”

The recent New York mayoral race, the public discourse, the universities, the protests, and the indifference of large parts of the political and media establishment have left many Jews with a deep sense of abandonment.

Not a political debate. Not a criticism of Israel.

But a real threat to the very legitimacy of being Jewish in the public sphere.

Family members of mine in England report an extreme sense of insecurity as well.

Not an isolated incident, not a fleeting headline, but a daily reality of fear, anxiety, and a fundamental question:

Is our future here?

And here Hanukkah returns, not as a nostalgic holiday, but as a warning.

The miracle of Hanukkah was not only a military victory, but the Jewish refusal to disappear, assimilate, or apologize for its existence.

In this time, the role of the State of Israel is not only to be a refuge, but a compass.

A clear, sharp, unapologetic voice that fights antisemitism on every front: diplomatic, legal, educational, and media.

A voice that tells Jews around the world: You are not alone.

And a voice that tells the world: Harming Jews, anywhere, is crossing a red line.

If in those days we were a defenseless minority, in this time we must not allow ourselves to be a sovereign people without responsibility.

This is the true miracle of Hanukkah for our generation.

And the question is whether we will prove worthy of it.

The writer is the CEO of Anu – Museum of the Jewish People.