I was in eighth grade the first time I noticed security guards at my synagogue. Despite the new guards, I didn’t think much of it. Growing up, I understood that my existence as a Jew could put me at risk. While studying abroad in Israel, every tiyul (field trip) we were accompanied by security and the campus entrance was guarded. This constant presence of protection has become normal for me, but it also shows how little acceptance there is for diverse communities around the world.
Pogroms—organized attacks against a particular ethnic group—had been believed to be left in antisemitism’s past, but in November of 2024, masked crowds shouted slurs and threw objects at Jewish football fans during a match between Maccabi Tel Aviv and Ajax. Such attacks force the Jewish community to evaluate their safety within the diaspora, and a wake up call to the world that anti-semitism is not a problem of the past. Proving that while some may think of the security guards in synagogues as “overkill” or “extreme”, their presence is necessary to ensure safety.
On Yom Kippur this year, the holiest day of the Jewish calendar, a synagogue in Manchester became the site of an attack. Forcing congregants to flee for their lives, and the event left the local Jewish community shaken and hyper-aware of the danger surrounding them. Both incidents, though years apart and in different countries, show a chilling pattern: antisemitism remains active and violent, even in societies that publicly condemn it.
The European Agency for Fundamental Rights reported in 2024 that 96% of Jews in Europe had faced antisemitism online or in person. Antisemitic incidents in the EU have risen more than 400% since 2023. These numbers prove why security guards, checkpoints, and alerts are necessary—but also serve asa sign of an enduring, systemic problem.
Living with these necessary protections is not something I take lightly. While I personally have never been scared to go to shul, I remind myself that many are—my safety in my place of faith is not normal. No person, of any religion, should feel scared to go somewhere because of their faith.
While often bleak, these precautions also represent perseverance and resilience. Communities have continued to gather in celebration and in protest. Despite the need for security, Jewish ruach (spirit) and neshama (soul) persist. Survival has become our normal. Walking into a synagogue or attending a field trip abroad under security is a reality that few children from other backgrounds or faiths understand.
The rise of antisemitism is part of a larger global pattern of intolerance against minority and religious groups. As the world continues to struggle with protecting human rights and promoting inclusion, these attacks remind us how urgent that mission is. Until societies truly confront prejudice, security measures will remain an unfortunate fixture of daily life for Jewish communities everywhere.