The War of Light and Darkness

There are moments in history—often tragic—when one event becomes emblematic of a long chain of preceding and forthcoming events. Such a moment occurred on the first day of Hanukkah at Bondi Beach in Sydney, Australia, where an act of pure evil extinguished the light of a public Hanukkah menorah lighting meant to bring warmth and hope. This premeditated act of mass murder will become emblematic of the wave of antisemitism sweeping the world—the war of darkness vs. light. In the midst of pain and sorrow, my only hope is that this evil act, which brought darkness upon Australia and Jewish communities around the world, will also bring moral clarity to the confused—be they Western intellectual elites, political leaders, or bystanders—who passively enable antisemitism by failing to condemn it.

Hanukkah has been celebrated by Jewish people around the world for two millennia in commemoration of the victory of an oppressed Jewish community in Judea over the mighty Seleucid Greek Empire. The Maccabees, a small group of brave Jews—the indigenous people of Judea—rose against Seleucid armies and, against all odds, achieved victory and a measure of independence. This military miracle was amplified by another miracle—the menorah in the rededicated Temple in Jerusalem burned for eight days on a single-day supply of olive oil.

Leo Tolstoy wrote that Jews invented freedom. But freedom did not come easily. And it did not last long. Jews were conquered once again and sent into exile, where Jewish people have been the subject of pogroms, blood libels, the Inquisition, the Holocaust, and relentless, ubiquitous antisemitism. And when Holocaust survivors finally returned to their ancestral homeland—the land of King David and the prophet Isaiah, the land of two Holy Temples that once stood in Jerusalem, where only the Western Wall of the last Temple remains—they were branded “colonialists.” Nevertheless, every year, Jews lit their Hanukkah menorahs as an act of defiance, an act of hope. And thus, Hanukkah became a symbol of hope and freedom; and the light of the menorahs shining into the night became the symbol of light dispelling darkness.

This year, the sacred light of Hanukkah—meant to be a beacon of joy, hope, and faith—was tragically overshadowed by the bloodshed of innocents. The light was drowned in blood. As Jews across the world prepare to kindle their menorahs and bring light into the public square, the menorah cups were filled with olive oil mixed with tears. This premeditated act of mass murder has made one thing chillingly clear: we are confronting a war between light and darkness. In Sydney, Australia, the forces of evil sought to extinguish the light of life. The sun set too soon on countless innocent souls.

For months, as anti-Israel demonstrations swept across university campuses and city streets across the world, Jewish leaders sounded the alarm: this was not merely “criticism of Israel,” but a growing wave of open antisemitism. Slogans like “From the river to the sea Palestine will be free” are heard by many Jews as demands for judenrein—a future in which the Jewish state, and Jews themselves, have no place. Calls for a “global intifada” are, at best, reckless incitement; at worst, they are a license to hunt Jews everywhere in the world. Too often, those warnings were dismissed, minimized, or explained away.

This massacre striped away pretense and political deflection. The victims were not targeted because of borders or policy. They were targeted only because they were Jews. This is what “global intifada” looks like—to hunt Jews wherever they are—the calculated killing of children, rabbis, and ordinary people who gathered simply to celebrate a holiday and spread a message of light. Incredibly, this antisemitic rhetoric is too often tolerated—or even normalized—in polite society, from lecture halls to city streets. Extremists take it as a license for an open season on Jews.

This was not spontaneous. It was planned, methodical, and carried out in cold blood. The perpetrators embraced their own deaths, driven by a nihilistic, extremist Islamist ideology that glorifies martyrdom and sanctifies mass murder—seeking not justice, but maximum Jewish casualties.

In the Book of Deuteronomy, Moses sets before the Jewish people a foundational choice: “I have put before you life and death, blessing and curse. Choose life.” Judaism is a religion of life. In stark contrast, Islamist extremism—a totalitarian political ideology that weaponizes religion—elevates death into a virtue and murder into a sacrament.

We, Jews, fight darkness with light. When terrorists make bombs, we make vaccines to fight diseases; when killers plan mass murders, researchers in Israel work on drugs to cure cancer; when the forces of evil want to bring death and darkness, we light Hanukkah candles and spread the light. We choose life!

For anyone still confused—or determined to remain willfully naïve—this massacre leaves no doubt. This is a war between good and evil, between light and darkness, between life and death. The time to choose is now.

Many world leaders—kings, presidents, and heads of state—were quick to condemn this heinous act. Yet silence prevails elsewhere. Where are the strong, unambiguous voices of Arab leaders, of Muslim religious authorities, and of local community leaders who can most credibly delegitimize this ideology? Few of them condemned the attacks, but most did not. Many Muslims reject antisemitism and terror—their voices are needed now, loudly and publicly. Silence is not neutral. Silence can be read as indifference or even acquiescence—and indifference, in the face of evil, emboldens the next killer.

Terror does not occur in a vacuum. It is cultivated in a permissive climate of incitement and inaction. The soil is made fertile when: governments make ritual condemnations of Israel their loudest and most consistent priority; mass media repeats terrorist propaganda and euphemisms as though they were neutral facts; police and public officials ignore open calls for violence—especially calls framed as “intifada,” “resistance,” or “by any means necessary”; ideologues in universities and public institutions inflame mobs, intimidate Jewish students, and launder hate as moral virtue.

Worse still, in the aftermath of the initial massacre in Israel on October 7, 2023—the worst massacre against Jews since the Holocaust, when innocents were slaughtered, raped, and burned alive by Hamas—some leaders responded not with indignation, not with moral clarity, but with symbolic “rewards,” to terrorists, such as recognizing Palestinian statehood while terror still rules Gaza and openly vows more October 7-style massacares. Extremists interpret this as vindication. This chorus pours fuel on the fire of antisemitism.

Many well-meaning liberals in the West refuse to face a hard truth: the Islamist forces driving this violence are not pursuing peaceful coexistence. They are not seeking compromise. They are not fighting to “liberate” Gaza—Israel withdrew from Gaza in 2005. And they are not simply advancing statehood aspirations, as complex and contested as those are. The agenda of Islamist extremism is chillingly clear: to kill Jews wherever they are, to target “infidels” wherever they can, and to spread their totalitarian vision through intimidation and terror. In its most extreme formulations, it aspires to global rule under a worldwide caliphate and Sharia law. Their recent “successes” suggest they are making progress—unless the free world finds the courage to say no.

Hanukkah, however, is not about politics. It is about spreading light of freedom, faith, hope, dignity, and life itself. And although the menorah’s glow in Sydney—and the beautiful light of innocent souls—was violently snuffed out, ultimately, light prevails.

We are taught: “A little light dispels much darkness.” This is our mandate.

I appeal to Gentiles and to Muslims, to people of all races, religions, and walks of life: spread the light, choose life!