A Safe Haven

A few weeks ago, a British television host stopped a young couple at the Western Wall in Jerusalem. They had just moved to Israel from the UK, pushing a stroller, smiling in the winter sun. When asked how it felt, their answer was simple: for the first time in years, they felt safe walking around. The interviewer called it surreal – safe in a place the world still calls a war zone. But for me, and for many Israelis, it is not surreal at all. It is clarifying. Safety is not about geography. It is about community, vigilance, and the hard lessons of history.

That clarity is now shaping policy. Israel’s Ministry of Aliyah and Integration has been told to prepare for a large wave of immigration. This is not a theoretical exercise. It is a real planning cycle, with drills, schedules, and responsibilities. Just last month, the ministry ran a comprehensive drill with the National Emergency Management Authority, simulating tens of thousands of immigrants arriving in a short span. They walked through every detail: airport reception, temporary housing, medical care, food, social support, and coordination between agencies. Senior officials did not call it hypothetical. They called it realistic. The trigger they had in mind was rising antisemitism and instability in countries with large Jewish communities, including the United States.

On December 10, the Minister of Aliyah and Integration summarized the drill at a ceremony honoring new immigrants who have made outsized contributions to Israel. An hour later, two terrorists opened fire at a Chanukah ceremony on Bondi Beach in Sydney. Fifteen Jews were murdered. Dozens wounded. It happened in a place many still reflexively describe as far away and safe. That reflex is now dangerously out of date.

Australia, like the United States, has long been seen as a safe haven for Jews. But recent events have shown that even the most open and tolerant societies are not immune to the spread of hatred. The numbers tell a story: Australia ranks low for Aliyah, with far fewer Jews moving to Israel than from countries in crisis. Russia, a country at war, sent nineteen thousand new immigrants in the same period. Australia’s numbers barely moved the needle. Whether the Bondi massacre will change this is anyone’s guess. I am skeptical, because two thousand years of Jewish experience point to a consistent pattern. We leave when the exit doors are already jammed. We whisper that things will calm down, that the government will protect us, that this time is different. But hoping for different outcomes without changing inputs is not strategy. It is magical thinking.

Some may ask: why would Jews ever consider leaving America? After all, the United States has been a beacon of freedom and opportunity for generations. American Jews have thrived here, contributing to every field, from science to business to the arts. The bonds between the Jewish community and the broader American society are deep and real. But history has taught us that even the strongest bonds can fray under pressure. Antisemitism is not just a relic of the past. It is a virus that mutates, adapts, and finds new hosts. It can come from the right or the left, from the fringes or the mainstream. It can be loud or it can be subtle. But it is always dangerous.

When a Jewish community is targeted, whether in Pittsburgh, Poway, Jersey City, or Sydney, the first response is always shock and grief. The second is a call for more protection: more patrols, more cameras, more vigilance. These are necessary steps. But they are not a long-term solution to a problem that is cultural, ideological, and spreading. No government on earth can guarantee the safety of Jews if the surrounding culture rewards those who erase them. Communities can buy time, but they cannot buy permanence.

This is not a criticism of America or any other country. It is not a rejection of the values that have made the United States a home for so many. It is simply an acknowledgment of reality. Israel was created for moments like this. If Israel had existed ninety years ago, the Holocaust would never have happened. That is not a slogan. It is a fact. Israel’s first duty is to protect Jews, wherever they are. That is what it was created to do.

Some worry that if American Jews leave, it will weaken the relationship between Israel and the United States. I do not believe that. The bond between our countries is built on shared values, mutual respect, and a deep commitment to democracy and freedom. That will not change. American Jews who move to Israel will remain a bridge between our peoples. They will bring with them the best of both worlds. The politics can adjust. Jewish safety cannot be outsourced.

Aliyah is not a slogan. It is logistics. It is Hebrew classes, housing, jobs, accreditation, and integration. Israel is preparing for this. The system is thinking ahead, not waiting for events to dictate the tempo. A Jew in New York or Los Angeles or Chicago who feels your gut tightening when he walks his children to school should not ignore that feeling. He should translate it into a plan. There are answers. There are programs. There is help.

Some will say that Israel is still at war, that rockets and sirens and uncertainty make a mockery of the word “safe.” I do not dismiss that. I live it. But resilience is not the absence of danger. It is the presence of meaning and the practice of preparedness. In Israel, Jews are surrounded by people who know why they are here. In Israel, a Jew will be a full participant in the story, not a distant donor to it.

This is not a slap in the face to America. It is a call to honesty, to responsibility, and to history. The comfort illusion is over. Israel is ready to do what it was created to do. The door is open. The bond between our countries will remain strong. But Israel’s first duty is to protect its people. That is not surreal. That is real, and it is waiting.

Good things,

Ari Sacher