The murder of Chabad Rabbi Eli Schlanger at a public Hanukkah gathering on Bondi Beach raises urgent questions about whether Jews can safely be visible in public spaces. Recent U.S. surveys — including a 2024 poll of nearly 130,000 Americans and the Yale Youth Poll — show rising antisemitic sentiment concentrated among younger cohorts, with age now a stronger predictor than ideology. The essay argues that minority visibility is a test of democratic norms: when visibility becomes dangerous, the social compact is fraying, and the responsibility for safety lies with the majority, not the minority alone.
Can Jews Be Openly Jewish in Public? The Bondi Beach Killings and What They Reveal About Belonging
In a short video circulated last year and pinned to the social feed of Chabad Rabbi Eli Schlanger of Sydney, filmed during Hanukkah, Schlanger steps out of his home smiling and declares: "Here's the best response to combat antisemitism!" As the song "Just a Little Bit of Light" plays, he lifts a large menorah from his car, secures it on the roof, lights it, and dances beside it in the street. The clip captures joy, confidence, and a belief that those who face prejudice can display their full identity in public. Months later, at a Hanukkah gathering on Bondi Beach, Schlanger was murdered along with other Jewish worshippers while publicly celebrating the holiday.
Schlanger's video and his killing force a broader question that reaches beyond the Jewish community: who can bring their full identity into civic life, and what does that reveal about the society in which we live?
Visibility as an Index of Belonging
For religious, ethnic, and racial minorities, public visibility is more than expression; it is an index of belonging. Being able to appear in shared civic spaces as oneself signals confidence that neighbors view that identity as legitimate, acceptable, and safe. When visibility becomes dangerous, the threat is not only to the minority; it indicates that the social compact is fraying.
Alarming Trends Among Young Americans
This is not an abstract concern for Americans. Recent surveys — including a 2024 poll of nearly 130,000 Americans and the Yale Youth Poll — show rising hostility toward Jews concentrated among younger cohorts. In the large 2024 survey, roughly one-quarter of voters under 25 reported an "unfavorable opinion" of Jewish people, and the Yale Youth Poll found that younger respondents were far more likely to say Jews have "too much power" or exert a "negative impact" on the country. Across multiple polls, age — rather than political ideology — now appears as the strongest predictor of anti-Jewish sentiment.
These findings are not limited to fringe extremists; they describe the generation that will shape campuses, media, technology, politics, and public norms in the coming decades. By default, that cohort will heavily influence whether Jewish people feel safe being visibly Jewish in public spaces.
Two Approaches to Public Religious Life
Jews have long debated the relationship between visibility and safety. In 1978 Rabbi Joseph Glaser, a Reform leader, argued that Jewish rituals were best kept on private property and that public spaces should remain religiously neutral to protect minorities from majoritarian pressure. The Chabad movement, under Rabbi Menachem Mendel Schneerson, took the opposite position: public religious expression strengthens both Jewish identity and a pluralistic society. A menorah in a public square, they argued, demonstrates that the country belongs to everyone.
These were not merely theological disagreements but competing judgments about a democracy's capacity to embrace difference.
What Failed—and What Must Be Rebuilt
No single argument guarantees safety; safety depends on society's commitments. When Jews can gather openly, sing, and celebrate without fear, it signals that democratic commitments to equality, pluralism, and mutual care are functioning. When they cannot, the consequence extends beyond one community.
Schlanger believed he could answer hatred with light; his belief did not fail him — society failed him. That failure raises urgent civic questions: Who is allowed to feel safe while visible? Whose identities are treated as ordinary in public life? Which communities must weigh the act of being themselves against the risk of harm?
Prejudice is not destiny. It is shaped by social norms, institutions, education, and political leadership. If belonging in public can erode, it can also be rebuilt — through confronting hatred directly, strengthening democratic norms, and ensuring the majority accepts responsibility for protecting minority visibility.
A healthy democracy should not force minorities to calculate whether they can appear as themselves in shared spaces without risking safety or life. The burden of ensuring safety should not rest solely on the vulnerable; it belongs to all of us. Schlanger's final message remains clear: people flourish when they can stand fully as themselves. His murder forces societies to choose whether they will affirm that possibility or deny it.
