OPINION:
Did I ever imagine that my family would become one of the faces of the worst antisemitic attacks in Australia’s history? No. Did I ever imagine that my father, Reuven Morrison, would be murdered in the largest terrorist attack this country has seen in decades? No.
Not even in my most anxious moments did I believe this was possible here. Not in Australia. Not in the country my family chose because it felt peaceful, safe and removed from the kind of hatred Jews had known elsewhere.
My father came to Australia when he was 14, after growing up marked as a Jew in the Soviet Union. As a child, he was singled out, bullied and made to feel that his identity was shameful. He came here believing Australia was different. He built a life grounded in family, faith, community and the belief that this country would not tolerate the hatred he had known.
When we buried him last month after he was killed on Bondi Beach while attending a Hanukkah celebration, I wept — not only because my father had been taken from me but also because the vision of safety and permanence in which his family had invested had been shattered so completely.
When my father stood up to the terrorists shooting Jews on Bondi Beach, he did so because that instinct lived in him. He threw a brick at them, unarmed, because he refused to die as a Jew with weak knees. That was the lesson he taught his grandchildren and me over and over again. He was clear-eyed that Jewish survival is not passive and that dignity matters.
He understood something many still refuse to accept: Antisemitism feeds on silence. It feeds on excuses. It feeds on the idea that words are harmless.
Since Oct. 7, 2023, I — like many other Jews in Australia and around the world — have watched with growing fear as antisemitism moved from the margins into the open. Fear almost feels too small a word for what unfolded. I watched protesters stand on the steps of the Sydney Opera House chanting, “F—- the Jews” and “Where’s the Jews?” What shocked me most was not only the hatred but also the absence of consequence.
I watched news of Jews being murdered outside Jewish events overseas. I watched protesters in my own city calling to “Globalize the intifada.” I felt the slow, sickening recognition that governments, including my own, were once again choosing to react too late. My father taught me that antisemitism is never an isolated incident. It’s never just words. History shows us the pattern clearly. Words become chants, chants become threats, and threats become violence. Eventually, Jews are murdered.
The question is not whether this could have been predicted, but rather whether it could have been stopped.
I don’t want any family to live the life my family is now forced to live. No one should send a loved one to the beach to celebrate Hanukkah and never see them come home.
I want zero tolerance for antisemitism. Stickers calling to “Globalize the intifada” are not political speech; they are threats with a history. Chants of “F—- the Jews” are not protests; they are declarations.
I want leaders to adopt and enforce the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance definition of antisemitism, not as symbolism but as a clear, workable standard. It defines antisemitism as a perception of Jews that may be expressed as hatred, provides real-world examples of how it appears today and clarifies that criticism of Israel is not antisemitic when it mirrors criticism of any other country, but it becomes so when it relies on double standards, collective blame or Nazi comparisons. Governments should not wait for bloodshed to draw that line.
My father believed that antisemitism, when confronted early, does not have to end in murder. His death is proof of what happens when it is allowed to grow unchecked.
• Sheina Gutnick is the daughter of Reuven Morrison, who was killed in the antisemitic terrorist attack in December at Sydney’s Bondi Beach after attempting to stop a gunman.
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