Forget 'Never Again'. We need Vigilant Judaism, and we need it now.

As if we needed another painful reminder like Sunday’s horrifying terror attack near Sydney, the era of relying on outside protection for Diaspora Jews is over.

photo: Chris Hearn/Unsplash

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On October 7, 2023, Israel was the most dangerous place to be a Jew, perhaps since Nazi Germany’s attempted takeover of Europe.

The Jewish state, fortunately, has rebounded, but our Diaspora continues to feel the effects — not because of the Israel–Hamas war or because of “Israel’s actions in Gaza,” but because it has always been fashionable to intimidate, bully, harass, torment, and even kill Jews.

After the Holocaust, many Jews in the Diaspora thought the worst was behind us. And of course, the Holocaust was an all-time Jewish low. But we were illusioned into thinking that “never again” meant something other than what it actually means. It does not mean that the outside world will never again seek to harm us. It means that Jews will no longer stand by as we are persecuted in any form.

Zionists (now Israelis) understood this beginning in the 1800s, long before the Holocaust. Many in the Diaspora did not. Many still do not.

Every week, the writing on the wall becomes more obvious: Too many Diaspora Jews are not mentally, emotionally, or physically up to date on what the moment requires. Sunday’s antisemitic attack at a Jewish gathering in Sydney that killed at least 11 people was just the latest entry in an ever-growing encyclopedia of warnings. These are not isolated incidents; they are the emerging norms. Jews would be wise to wake up to them. No amount of wishful thinking, moral appeals, or optimism will make them disappear.

Even communal leaders who have spent decades believing in institutional protection are beginning to acknowledge this reality. Lynda Ben-Menashe, president of the National Council of Jewish Women Australia, said after Sunday’s attack:

“I’m horrified and devastated that this happened, but not shocked. Over the past two years, antisemitism has been rising by the month, and the government has not listened to our pleas. When there is no visible consequence to incitement, violence always ensues.”¹

And this is precisely the deeper point that many Diaspora Jews still miss: Antisemitism has not been “rising.” It has always been there — before the Holocaust, after the Holocaust, because of the Holocaust, and often disguised as “lessons learned” from it. Countries that pride themselves on tolerance once housed enormous populations of Holocaust survivors. (Ironically, Australia once housed the largest population of Holocaust survivors.) That did not inoculate them against Jew-hatred; it merely changed the language through which it expressed itself.

This is why so many Jews today appear genuinely stunned by recent events. They are desperate to locate a new cause, a triggering incident, something external to antisemitism itself. Some blame the Israel–Hamas war. Others go further and make the absurd mistake of blaming Israel altogether. This narrative is not accidental; it is exactly what our enemies want Jews to believe: that Jewish safety is conditional, revocable, and dependent on Jewish behavior — especially Jewish power.

If antisemitism can be framed as a response to Israel, then Jew-hatred becomes rationalized, even justified. Jews are transformed from perennial targets into culpable actors. The mob is no longer antisemitic; it is merely “reacting.” This logic absolves societies of responsibility and returns Jews to the most dangerous position of all: believing that if only we behaved differently, the hatred would subside. History could not be clearer on how catastrophically wrong this belief is.

The second major mistake is the persistent instinct of Diaspora Jews to look to governments to solve antisemitism, as if Jews could ever effectively outsource their safety. Appeals to politicians, police, and institutions are understandable, but they are also revealing: They expose a lingering belief that Jewish security is best guaranteed by others.

Modern Zionism emerged, in large part, because this belief failed again and again across continents and centuries. The Jewish state exists because no external authority reliably protects Jews. When governments and institutions do offer protection, it is welcomed and appreciated — but it is a cherry on top, not the foundation. Jewish safety, continuity, and dignity cannot depend on the goodwill of outsiders; they are responsibilities that only Jews can claim for ourselves.

At the same time, it is neither realistic nor desirable to expect all or even most Diaspora Jews to move to Israel. Jews live full, rooted, meaningful lives across the world, bound by family, profession, language, and culture. The solution, therefore, cannot be mass relocation; it must be a transformation of mindset.

This is where “Vigilant Judaism” comes into play. Vigilant Judaism is not paranoia or panic. It is not extremism, nor is it abandoning our morality. It is clarity and resolve. It is the rejection of Jewish passivity as a moral virtue. It is the understanding that Jewish life has always required alertness, preparedness, and collective responsibility. It is the recognition that survival demands proactive measures, vigilance paired with purpose, and refusal to outsource moral or physical responsibility for the Jewish people.

Vigilant Judaism is readiness without apology, moral clarity about enemies and threats, and the refusal to accept symbolic gestures as a substitute for real protection. It is not about turning every Jew into a soldier or abandoning civic life; it is about raising the baseline of awareness, action, and responsibility.

Historically, Vigilant Judaism is not a new or radical concept. Jewish communities have survived through centuries of hostility because they understood this principle intuitively. In medieval Europe, organized self-defense, communal coordination, and clandestine protection were not optional; they were essential for life. Jewish militias, ghetto resistance movements, and pre-state organizations such as Hashomer (The Guardian) and Haganah (The Defense) existed because Jewish survival demanded action when no one else would intervene.

Israel, in practice, is the most advanced expression of Vigilant Judaism today. Not because Israelis are inherently more violent and aggressive, or stronger and wiser, but because the stakes forced the lesson upon them. Threats are taken seriously, deterrence is understood as necessary, and self-defense is integrated into daily life. Jewish safety and security are treated as an obligation, not a philosophical question.

In Israel, Jewish safety and security are not treated as abstract moral questions or theoretical ideals; they are responsibilities that every individual and every institution is expected to uphold. From schools and synagogues to public spaces and neighborhoods, protection is systemic and proactive, rooted in the understanding that Jewish continuity depends on our own vigilance.

Israelis do not wait for outsiders to intervene, nor do they rely on hope alone; every measure of foresight, every act of preparation, and every decision to defend oneself is considered part of the broader covenant of survival. In this way, Israel exemplifies the principle that true Vigilant Judaism is not reactive; it is a conscious, deliberate, and ongoing commitment to anticipate danger, act preemptively, and safeguard Jewish life at all times.

Of course, Israelis are not bulletproof in this regard; many of us fell asleep at the wheel leading up to October 7th, but the lesson has been painfully clear, and the response demonstrates that when survival is on the line, vigilance becomes instinct, responsibility is non-negotiable, and the cost of inattention is measured in lives.

Yet, for quite a few Diaspora Jews and Jewish communities, this lesson has been hard to internalize. Many resist vigilance because it threatens social acceptance, because it exposes vulnerability, or because passivity has been moralized as a virtue. Fear of being seen as aggressive, overreactive, or separatist has often outweighed the imperative to act.

Communities tend to rely on performative measures — symbolic security, social media condemnations, interfaith panels, vigils — that signal awareness, but do not provide protection. Security theater and moral posturing, while comforting at times, cannot substitute for preparedness and self-responsibility. The very behaviors that feel safe (trusting outsiders, appealing to governments, depending on institutional sympathy) have repeatedly proven inadequate.

This past weekend, a home in California adorned with Hanukkah decorations was targeted in a drive-by shooting. Twenty bullets were fired into the house. In response, the local Jewish Federation issued a statement urging the community “to remain vigilant” — a phrase that begs the question: Vigilant how, exactly? Should Jews hide their Hanukkah decorations, lower their visibility, and retreat from public Jewish life?

Even if Diaspora Jews live in communities where most neighbors are friendly and welcoming, this does not eliminate the ongoing threats. Hostile actors exist far beyond the immediate environment, and some states and networks actively seek to exploit vulnerabilities in the West to target Jews. Countries like Iran and Qatar, and organizations like the Muslim Brotherhood, Al-Qaeda, and its affiliates (among others) have invested in ideological and operational campaigns designed to activate lone actors or coordinated cells, spreading propaganda, incitement, and even instructions for violence.

(After Sunday’s terror attack near Sydney, Israeli authorities began investigating whether foreign actors were involved, such as Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas, and Pakistani-based Lashkar-e-Taiba, which is connected to Al-Qaeda.)

These threats do not respect borders or polite communities, and they do not wait for public warning signs to appear before acting. The illusion of safety created by friendly neighbors or tolerant societies can lull communities into complacency, leaving them unprepared when danger arrives. Vigilant Judaism teaches that Jewish security cannot rely on the goodwill of others, however well-intentioned, because the forces arrayed against us are determined, patient, and global in scope. Awareness of these broader networks, combined with proactive preparation at every level — personal, communal, and institutional — is essential for the survival and flourishing of Jews in the Diaspora.

On a positive note, Vigilant Judaism asks Diaspora Jews to internalize the principles that make Israel strong, without requiring relocation. It calls for communities to treat security as infrastructure, for leaders to speak honestly about threats, for coordination to replace atomization, and for parents to instill confidence and clarity rather than fragility.

Vigilance is not fear; it is love for Jewish life, a commitment to continuity, and moral courage in the face of existential threats. It is understanding that “never again” was never a promise from the world; it remains a promise from Jews to ourselves. To live fully Jewish in the modern world is to be alert, prepared, and proactive, not reactive, naive, or deferential.

Vigilant Judaism is not only a mindset; it demands practical action. Jewish communities can strengthen their security by hiring trained Jewish and Israeli personnel, conducting regular security audits, installing surveillance and controlled access systems, and organizing volunteer neighborhood watch programs in coordination with professional teams.

Education and awareness are equally critical. Every Jewish child (and even adults) should be taught proper self-defense, alongside training in situational awareness and safe responses during emergencies. Preparedness must also be tangible; communities should develop clear emergency response plans, maintain communication channels for rapid alerts, and stock essential emergency supplies.

Yet proactivity extends beyond physical security: Jewish life and identity must be nurtured through education, cultural engagement, and communal rituals, creating resilience that threats cannot erode. Teaching younger generations the lessons of history empowers them to take ownership of their own safety and the continuity of the Jewish People.

Unfortunately, many young Jews (including my younger self) have been raised in fragile environments that emphasize comfort and passivity over resilience and vigilance, leaving us ill-prepared to confront the harsh realities that have always surrounded Jewish life.

October 7th shattered illusions among most Israelis about Gaza and the Palestinians, and virulent antisemitism (often obscured as “anti-Zionism”) across the Diaspora are reminders that Jewish security is never automatic. Vigilant Judaism transforms that reality into a guiding principle: Jews will act for themselves, protect themselves, and organize themselves. It is the recognition that Jewish survival has always been conditional on Jewish action, and that passivity, hope, or appeals to outsiders are insufficient.

The price of continuity is vigilance, the duty of community, and the courage to live fully Jewish in a world that has never guaranteed our safety. “Never again” is not a slogan; it is a mandate, and it demands action, clarity, and an unwavering commitment to the life, safety, and flourishing of every Jew.

To be sure, Vigilant Judaism is not a modern concept at all; it is deeply rooted in core Jewish principles about responsibility, realism, and the obligation to preserve life. The Torah does not sanctify passivity; it sanctifies responsibility. Jewish life is sacred, and precisely because it is sacred, Jews are commanded to protect it. Neglecting one’s own safety is not piety; it is a violation of responsibility. Vigilance, therefore, is not fear-driven; it is mitzvah-driven.

The Torah also rejects the idea that faith means ignoring danger. When Jacob prepares to meet Esau, whom he fears may attack him, he does not rely on prayer alone. He prays, prepares strategically, and takes defensive measures. The rabbis later emphasize this as a model for Jewish behavior: Trust in God and act responsibly in the world. This balance, faith paired with preparation, is a Torah archetype of Vigilant Judaism.

Jewish law goes even further. The Torah commands that if a danger exists, it must be addressed before harm occurs. The Torah is also unsentimental about human nature. It does not assume that the world is benevolent or that threats will disappear if ignored. “If someone comes to kill you, rise early and defend yourself” (Sanhedrin 72a) is not a call to aggression, but a recognition of reality: Jewish life cannot be preserved by denial. The Torah insists on moral clarity in the face of danger. Protecting life is not optional, and waiting for others to intervene is not a virtue.

Even the Exodus narrative reflects Vigilant Judaism. The Israelites do not wait passively for redemption; they prepare, organize, and act when the moment comes. Freedom is not bestowed upon those who sleep through history; it is claimed by those who are ready to move. Jewish redemption, both physical and spiritual, consistently requires awareness, readiness, and courage.

Accordingly, Vigilant Judaism is not a departure from Jewish values; it is their fulfillment. Judaism asks us to cherish life enough to protect it, to trust God without abandoning responsibility, and to face reality without illusions.

May the memory of those who were murdered in Sunday’s terrorist attack near Sydney be a blessing, and may God comfort the mourners among them.

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1. “‘Horrified, not shocked’: Australian Jews blame Bondi attack on ongoing ‘incitement’.” Times of Israel.