Hatred has no faith
Acts of terror are often wrongly linked to religion, when in fact they stem from extremist ideology and systematic indoctrination. The attack on a Hanukkah celebration in Sydney is not about faith but about how hatred corrupts belief systems and turns them into weapons against innocent people. Recognizing this distinction is crucial if we want to fight antisemitism without giving in to dangerous ideas and generalizations.
The deadly attack on the Hanukkah celebration in Sydney this weekend — carried out by a father and son against innocent civilians — serves as a painful reminder that extremism, not religion, is the true enemy of peace. As Jewish families gathered by the sea to celebrate light, tradition, and survival, hatred once again arrived armed, calculated, and merciless.
The tragedy stirred a deeply personal memory for me. In 2003, while preparing to move to the United States, I was taking English classes to pass the TOEFL and compiling my university transcripts for assessment upon arrival. My English grammar teacher at the time was of Pakistani origin. During one class, a student — in what I found to be profoundly inappropriate — asked her about her religion. She calmly explained that she came from a Muslim family. The question continued, drifting into stereotypes about Pakistani culture, until the one we all sensed was coming was finally asked: “Why are Muslims terrorists?”
Her face reflected both patience and resolve. She responded clearly and with dignity: “Those who commit terrorist acts, like those of September 11, are extremists. Extremists are indoctrinated fanatics. The Muslim faith does not promote extermination or terror.”
That memory resurfaced vividly as news emerged from Sydney — especially when reports highlighted the bravery of a Muslim fruit vendor who risked his life to stop one of the shooters. I thought again of that medical student and English teacher, with the goal of returning to the US to revalidate her degree. She was compassionate, deeply human, and visibly hurt that acts of terror committed by extremists were used to unfairly judge millions of peaceful Muslims who want nothing more than safety and dignity for their communities.
She once invited me to her home, welcomed me generously, and taught me about her culture and folklore. She dressed modestly and carried herself with humility, determined to help her students understand that equating Islam with terrorism was not only wrong but also dangerous. In many ways, her quiet courage mirrors that of the Muslim merchant in Sidney — proof that humanity often stands in direct opposition to hate.
What is most disturbing is how deeply rooted this hatred remains, and how younger generations increasingly fail to apply critical thinking when confronted with violent narratives. The Jewish families celebrating Hanukkah that day were experiencing a rare moment of relief and joy — a fragile sense of peace that had slowly returned after October 7. Yet once again, extremist hatred invaded their lives.
This was not spontaneous violence; it was premeditated, deliberate, and fueled by ideology. Terrorist groups are never at peace; their worldview relies on hatred and the systematic dehumanization of anyone who does not conform to their beliefs. Those who justify the killing of Jews anywhere in the world must confront the moral bankruptcy of their reasoning. No ideology excuses the murder of families celebrating their faith.
The father and son responsible for this attack serve as a clear example of how indoctrination stifles peace. Ignorance fuels antisemitism, and extremists manipulate poor reasoning to spread it further. This cycle is not driven by religion, but by the refusal to think critically and compassionately.
My heart is with our Jewish community of Australia, with Jews everywhere, and also with Muslims who seek peace and coexistence in a world increasingly shaped by fear. May the souls of those who lost their lives at sea rest in peace — tragically taken while celebrating their traditions, which should never be targets of hate. Their memory stands as a solemn reminder of what is lost when extremism is allowed to take hold of humanity.
