Overcoming Darkness: The Power of Jewish Resilience in the Face of Terror

“I do not know what to say. A very close friend of mine, an emissary of the Lubavitcher Rebbe in Sydney, was murdered this evening. Just last week he picked me up from the airport. My cousin’s daughter was also injured in the attack. The only thing I can think of is what the Rebbe taught us: we must not surrender to terror. A small amount of light dispels much darkness, and we will ignite a great deal of light.”

These shaking words were sent by Rabbi Dudu Lieder, a Chabad emissary in Melbourne, to members of his community just hours after the horrific terror attack in Sydney that shocked Australia. Fifteen people were murdered and dozens injured during a “Chanukah by the Sea” event organized by the local Chabad House.

Shortly afterward, a second message followed, no less determined: “Thank you all for the encouragement. We are distributing menorahs and candles to everyone. Send me your address, and within the hour young men will arrive with menorahs, candles, and sufganiyot. You will see that the light will drive away the darkness.”

In many ways, this is the story of Australia’s Jewish community in a single snapshot. These are days of profound shock and paralyzing fear as antisemitism once again raises its head. And yet there is a clear and unwavering refusal to allow Jewish light to fade. This year, Rabbi Lieder testifies, their activity not only did not diminish, it reached record levels. “We came with sufganiyot and menorahs to virtually every home,” he says. “We are in great pain, but we know that this is the only way to overcome darkness. There is no other path.”

The Final Ride

For Rabbi Lieder, the Sydney attack was not only a national tragedy but a deeply personal one. Just a week earlier, on the nineteenth of Kislev, the New Year of Chassidut, he had been invited to Sydney to take part in a chassidic gathering. The person who organized the event, picked him up from the airport, and accompanied him throughout the visit was Rabbi Eli Schlanger, of blessed memory, the emissary murdered in the attack.

“I landed in Sydney and Rabbi Schlanger came to pick me up,” Rabbi Lieder recalls, describing their final drive together. “We traveled for half an hour, and he excitedly told me how he had managed to help a Jewish prisoner gain his release, and how he helped him put on tefillin. He was a man entirely devoted to action, with a unique energy of kindness. His greatest pleasure was doing good for others.”

Also present at that gathering was Reuven Morrison, a sixty two year old Jew of Russian origin. Reuven had no connection to Torah or mitzvot until he encountered Chabad in Sydney, where he underwent circumcision at an advanced age. Later, he had a daughter and lived to see her marry and build a family.

“I met Reuven at the gathering,” Rabbi Lieder recalls, his voice trembling. “After years of not knowing what Judaism even was, he became a well known man of charity and kindness in the community. It is chilling to realize that he was the one who found himself at the scene of the attack, and that he courageously chased the terrorist. In the videos, you can see him throwing an object toward the attacker until he himself was wounded.”

Rabbi Lieder falls silent for a moment. It is clear how difficult it is for him to speak. “The community is in shock,” he finally says. “It is a combination of frustration, anxiety, and anger. There is also a deep sense of helplessness. What strengthens us are the conversations about Rabbi Schlanger and the other holy victims. The more we speak about him, the stronger we become, because Rabbi Schlanger had such a unique approach to his mission. He always tried to go deeper and to strengthen as many people as possible. He had tremendous inner strength, and that strength is what sustains us now in these painful and turbulent days.”

Continuing to Illuminate

Speaking about the Melbourne community, where he himself serves as an emissary, Rabbi Lieder explains: “Melbourne is a calm and peaceful city. Most people who choose to live here do so in search of tranquility. As a result, they have more time to look inward, to ask questions, and to take advantage of opportunities to receive answers and connect more deeply to Judaism.

“The Chabad House we run here has been active for twenty two years. We organize social events, Torah classes, workshops, and activities around the clock. Every Shabbat we host large communal meals, and we provide a broad response to both the spiritual and practical needs of the Jewish community. Each year on Hanukkah we distribute large quantities of sufganiyot and menorahs and hold ceremonies throughout the area.”

This year as well, he says, they prepared an impressive range of Chanukah activities for all ages, for residents and Jewish visitors alike. “But the attack struck on the very first night, and the feeling was terrible. Immediately afterward, people were afraid to light Hanukkah candles in their windows. They were also afraid to attend events we organized, and there was a pervasive sense of fear and helplessness. But we did not give up for a moment. We went to people’s homes with sufganiyot and menorahs to celebrate Chanukah and bring joy and light. We also sent special emissaries to the mountain regions, a considerable drive away, and we did not cancel a single event, including the central lighting. We are here to support everyone and to say clearly: we are here, and nothing will break us.”

Do you feel the recent rise in antisemitism?

“All of us in Australia feel it,” Rabbi Lieder responds. “Especially over the past two years since Simchat Torah, there have been repeated incidents, including synagogue arson, damage to Jewish property, many demonstrations, and other painful events. We have not personally experienced direct attacks, but incidents are happening constantly, and from our perspective the warning signs were clearly visible."