By Mayer Wochyniak
The Jewish community has been called on again and again to rally for Israel. We have gathered outside city halls, campuses, consulates and synagogues. We have waved Israeli flags, sung Hatikvah, demanded the return of hostages, condemned Hamas, defended Israel’s right to exist and explained, over and over again, why Jews should not be murdered.
There is a place for pro-Israel rallies, hostage rallies, political advocacy and every other part of the work that has had to be done since the world lost its mind. But maybe it is time for something else too. Maybe it is time for a Jewish pride rally.
Not a rally built around the latest attack. Not a rally that exists only because someone vandalized a synagogue, threatened a school, screamed at Jewish students, blocked a Jewish event, or accused Jews of some new grotesque crime. A rally that says we are not only here to respond. We are here because we belong.
That has been missing. Too often, Jewish public life in Canada has become defensive. We are asked to explain Israel. We are asked to condemn things no other community is asked to condemn. We are asked to prove we are not responsible for every decision made by a government thousands of kilometres away. We are asked to reassure people that our grief is acceptable, our fear is reasonable and our presence in public spaces is not a provocation.
Enough.
Jewish life cannot only be lived in reaction to people who hate us. It cannot only be press conferences after vandalism, statements after campus incidents, community alerts after threats, and carefully worded appeals to politicians who somehow still need to be convinced that Jew hatred is a problem. That work is necessary, but it cannot be the whole story.
A Jewish pride rally would be different. It would have no Israeli flags or political speeches. It would not be about explaining ourselves to people who have already decided that they hate us. It would not be about begging politicians to notice what has been happening in this country. It would not be about standing there once again as defendants in a trial no one had the decency to announce.
It would be about us, about diversity in Judaism, about Jewish pride and Jewish community.
Jewish schools, Jewish families, Jewish students, Jewish seniors, Jewish history, Jewish music, Jewish books, Jewish food, Jewish languages and Jewish life. It would be about the people who built communities, opened businesses, taught children, treated patients, wrote books, served in uniform, volunteered, donated, argued, prayed, survived and kept going.
It would be about walking through the streets not as a community asking for permission, but as a community standing tall in the city they live in.
The problem today is not only anti-Israel activism. It is not only the ugly obsession with Israel that has taken over campuses, unions, school boards, city councils and parts of the media. The problem is that many Jews have been made to feel uncomfortable being visibly Jewish in their own country.
That is what has to change. A kippah is not a political statement. A Magen David is not a provocation. Hebrew is not a threat. A Jewish school is not a target. A synagogue is not a battlefield. A Jew walking down the street should not have to calculate whether it is safer to tuck in a necklace, remove a hat, avoid a neighbourhood, skip an event or stay quiet.
This is Canada and that should not be a radical demand. And yet, somehow, it has become one.
We have reached a point where Jewish children are growing up hearing more about security guards than celebration. They know which doors are locked at school. They know why police cars are parked outside shuls. They know that Jewish events need protection. They know adults are worried. They hear the conversations, even when adults think they do not.
They also need to see something else, they need to see Jews standing tall. Not angry for a day and then gone. Not hidden behind statements and meetings. Not always grieving. Not always explaining. Not always waiting for the next awful thing to happen before gathering again.
They need to see joy, strength, confidence and community.
A Jewish pride rally would not replace support for Israel; it would strengthen it. The connection to Israel does not come from a press release or a slogan. It comes from Jewish identity. It comes from knowing who we are, where we come from and why we are still here.
The people who hate Israel usually do not stop at Israel, we have seen that clearly enough. The mask always slips and the chants always move from policy to people. The protests move from government offices to Jewish neighbourhoods, the anger moves from the Middle East to Montreal, Toronto, Vancouver and every campus where Jewish students are told that their identity is the problem.
So yes, we must continue to defend Israel, but we also must defend Jewish dignity.
There is something powerful about a community saying we are not waiting for another attack to gather. We are not only showing up when we are wounded. We are not defined by the people who hate us.
We are Jews. Proudly, publicly and unapologetically.
Maybe that is exactly what this moment needs.
