Experiencing Duality as a Jewish Student in Britain
Being a Jewish student in Britain today feels like straddling two worlds. Prepping for lectures, studying for exams, I navigate classrooms and library queues just like any other student. Yet, there’s this underlying anxiety—will I be targeted because of my faith or identity? Do I need to hide my Star of David or kippah? Is today the day when I need to protest outside?
University should be about learning and growth. Yet, for many Jewish students in the UK, it feels like a secondary concern amid the heavy reality of just being Jewish on campus.
My great-grandmother, Lily Evert, was just 20 when she arrived at Auschwitz. In one tragic day, her entire family—her mother, sister, youngest brother, and over 100 relatives—were brutally killed. Their memories reduced to ash, lost to history. That was in July 1944.
This Passover, we’re called to show strength, unity, and an unwavering commitment to protecting Jewish life.
She survived and found her way to England not just to live, but to thrive. Over the years, she built a loving family—10 grandchildren and 38 great-grandchildren. She believed that Britain would be a sanctuary for her family, a place where they could embrace their Jewish identity openly and without fear. A nation familiar with the lessons of its past.
She dedicated decades to visiting schools across Britain and, in her later years, utilized social media to warn young people about how the Holocaust didn’t start with violence—it began with words and small acts that shifted the societal atmosphere.
In her final months, before passing away in October 2024, she was filled with dread. It was heartbreaking for her to witness a country she trusted neglecting its fundamental responsibilities in the wake of such a monumental tragedy.
It’s understandable for her to feel alarmed, and, honestly, her warnings resonate more now than ever.
Confronting Anti-Semitism and Violence
British counter-terrorism units are currently investigating a surge in arson attacks targeting Jewish organizations, with multiple incidents occurring on most days. Not only have synagogues and charities been set ablaze, but there’s also a threat involving an Iranian-linked group planning to strike at the Israeli embassy.
This escalated only weeks after a Jewish charity’s ambulance was set on fire in Golders Green, a prominent Jewish neighborhood in the UK. Chief Rabbi Ephraim Mirvis noted that an alarming pattern of violence and intimidation against the Jewish community is intensifying.
Prime Minister Keir Starmer expressed shock at these developments, labeling the violence as “abhorrent.” But I can’t help but ask—how can he be surprised? If you support the notion of “Globalize the Intifada,” is it so unexpected when such sentiments take a global form?
And simply throwing money at the situation isn’t a viable remedy. We cannot escape the repercussions of this conflict just by barricading ourselves behind increasingly fortified walls.
This violence doesn’t just stem from arson—it’s rooted in a broader ideology. Until Britain decides to confront these underlying beliefs, no amount of policing will truly extinguish the flames.
Taking decisive action, such as banning the Iranian Revolutionary Guards who may be instigating these attacks, is crucial. They’re radicalizing youths across campuses, mosques, and community centers in ways that lead to this violence.
It all starts closer to home, on campuses like mine, where each week, masked protesters invade university spaces, chanting messages darker than mere political dissent. Jewish students often find themselves singled out, called “baby killers,” and jeered at simply for being Jewish. Many opt to stash away their Star of David necklaces and hesitate before sharing opinions in seminars. A Jewish professor faced a brutal verbal attack from masked demonstrators, who branded him a “war criminal” and even threatened violence against him—all for simply being Jewish and refusing to back down.
And the issues extend beyond just the students. Sometimes, the educators themselves are part of the problem. On my campus, outrageous accusations—like the medieval blood libel—were repeated as fact in what’s considered one of Britain’s elite universities.
OFF CAMPUS: An NHS doctor posted online about “gassing Jews” without facing serious repercussions. Jewish artists get quietly removed from exhibitions. Events celebrating Jewish culture are canceled without any clear explanation. Protests filled with hateful chants proceed without interruption from law enforcement.
Each event can seem isolated, but together, they reveal a growing normalization of dangerous anti-Jewish sentiment.
Over the past year, Britain has seen a shocking rise in violent anti-Semitic incidents—far worse on a per capita basis than anywhere else outside Israel, affecting approximately one in every 2,500 Jews. Jewish schools caution students against wearing visible symbols of their faith. Jewish teens have been assaulted on public transit, while institutions feel compelled to erect security fences and hire guards just to operate safely. It feels as if we’re under siege.
A Call to Acknowledge Reality
My great-grandmother dedicated her life to cautioning us that crises emerge from silence, from complacency. It starts with minor concessions. Institutions dance around uncomfortable truths, hesitant to confront the realities faced by targeted minorities.
Britain stands at a crossroads. Will we honor the lessons learned from history, or will we allow silence to permeate until it’s too late? My great-grandmother, Lily Evert, survived Auschwitz, but she never got to see Britain transform into the safe haven she once envisioned.
