When I was a boy, there was an armed attack on the Moscow synagogue where my family lived. In the early years after the collapse of the Soviet Union, my mother wouldn't let me leave the house wearing a yarmulke for fear that I would become the target of a “dirty Jew” slur, or worse. It was.
As the son of Moscow's chief rabbi, I personally felt the impact of security concerns on communal life. Centuries of persecution, expulsion, pogroms, and mass murder have left Jews around the world with a quiet expectation of anti-Semitism, a sense that hatred is an inevitable part of life. History taught my ancestors that reality meant being enslaved, denied rights and citizenship, and marched to the gas chambers.
But I was told that this is not the case everywhere. That there is a place where everyone is free and protected. A place where Jews can proudly walk the streets without looking over their shoulders in fear. We all thought of America as a shining city on a hill, a place where Jews lived in peace, prosperity, and, more importantly, freedom from fear.
When I moved to America and after I became a rabbi I tasted freedom on Manhattan's Upper East Side, but it was short-lived.
For my community, the promise of American freedom is Rise of anti-Semitism In the last few years. Less than a week after the horrific Hamas terrorist attack on October 7, hostile and angry demonstrators in Times Square celebrated the killing of Israelis and threatened violence against American Jews. I did it.
In the months that followed, worshipers carrying prayer shawls were spat at on the Upper East Side. A young man was beaten at a Hunter College congregation just two blocks from our synagogue. And young parents had to lock themselves inside with their children as mobs shouted anti-Semitic threats outside their Park Avenue windows.
Today, freedom from fear is no longer a collective guarantee for all New Yorkers. For urban Jews, staying safe from violence and anti-Semitism has become a personal responsibility of each individual.
This led to some difficult decisions. Do we allocate synagogue resources to fund teen holiday programs or hire another security guard to prevent shootings in our places of worship? How much more do we charge for Shabbat dinner to cover security? Do you need it? How much? anti-semitism tax Is attending synagogue guaranteed?
These are difficult questions to answer. My congregation pays for an armed security guard every Sabbath and invests heavily in keeping our community safe. Most communities add a security fee to your membership dues. But you don't have to. New Yorkers and Americans don't have to pay for or buy peace of mind.
I thought I had left behind in Russia the fear and pain of being a vulnerable Jew. But like my mother back in Moscow, I caught my breath as I watched the congregation enter the synagogue, surrounded by gun-wielding NYPD officers. That horrible sucking of air is the least American sound I know.
But there is still much we can do to help New York City and cities across the country fulfill the promise of freedom. We must insist on restoring the values that make us who we are: preserving our freedom and solidarity. We must address anti-Semitism and demand policies that help protect our communities from hate, including increased federal funding.security fundsTo protect religious facilities from terrorism and violence. In 2024, more than half of all requests were left unfunded, leaving the financial burden of security on individual Jewish communities.
Senate Majority Leader Chuck Schumer (New York) also took immediate action. Anti-Semitism Awareness Act To the Senate chamber. 17 Jews organization We called for the passage of this bill that clearly and precisely defines anti-Semitism. Deborah Lipstadt, the U.S. special envoy for monitoring and combating anti-Semitism; called definition “One of the most basic means by which we must fight” hatred of Jews.
I'm optimistic as we continue to move forward. We see people participating in elections who have never voted in previous elections. We're seeing people who previously voted only at the top of the ballot learning about candidates for district attorney, state legislature, school board, and other local offices. I see a generation of young Jews willing to fight to ensure that America fulfills its promise to not only survive, but thrive.
We need America's united spirit to fight hate and ensure that no one faces danger alone. When we embrace unity and shared responsibility, we strengthen the very vision of America I was raised to admire: freedom, justice, and security for all. Together, let's protect that vision and keep the city on the hill shining brightly.
Rabbi Benjamin Goldschmidt grew up in Russia, where his father was the chief rabbi of Moscow. He is the founding rabbi of Altnoy Synagogue on the Upper East Side.
