Dan Elkayam was a young French engineer from Le Bourget, in Seine-Saint-Denis, today almost devoid of Jews. On the first night of Hanukkah, like many young Jews far from home, he went to forge a bond with his people during the lighting of the Hanukkah menorah. As bullets began to fly, Dan rushed to shield a little girl with his own body and died under the terrorists’ gunfire.
Holocaust survivor Alex Kleytman was killed while protecting his wife Larisa. Both Alex and Larisa survived the Holocaust as children: Alex had to endure “terrible conditions” in Siberia. Years of malnutrition and cramped conditions left Kleytman partially disabled.
Boris and Sofia Gurman tried to stop the terrorist as he exited his vehicle before the massacre at Bondi Beach. After minutes of struggle, the second terrorist killed them both. They gave their lives to save others.
Reuven Morrison fled the Soviet Union from antisemitic persecution to build a free life. He arrived in Australia, convinced it was different-believing he was safe. But he was murdered while trying to stop one of the jihadists by throwing whatever he had in his hand.
Eli Schlanger was a central figure in local Jewish life. Born in London, this rabbi studied in France and the United States, receiving ordination in New York. After moving to Australia following his marriage, he was the father of five children, the youngest born two months ago. He had spoken out publicly against antisemitism, urging Jews not to hide their identity and governments to do their part.
Matilda Britvan was ten years old-the youngest victim of the massacre. She was a student at the Harmony Russian School in Sydney. She was killed while eating cake.
These are some of Bondi Beach victims.
The slogan “They love life and we love death” emerges as a necromantic invocation echoing the depths of a nihilism disguised as faith. Attributed variously to figures such as Bin Laden or Nasrallah, this slogan is not mere belligerent rhetoric but an ontological manifesto. It is a declaration of war not only against the West or Israel, but against the very essence of human existence.
This slogan stands in stark contrast to the biographies of the Jewish victims of the Bondi Beach attack, who know that, in this world, mere survival is already an unforgivable sin for those who dream of their disappearance.
Not all men are brothers. Not all foreigners are guests: many are invaders who see the West as dar al-harb, a land of war.
With each of the Jewish victims and their families I have learned to break and share bread as with a neighbor who is my equal. Neighbors in the deepest sense: they share our fundamental values, bearers of that civilization that produced Bach, the cathedrals, Einstein and democracy as well as ethics.
With their murderers and the millions of accomplices among us I want no contact. One does not break bread with those who break lives. I do not want them here. The former do not want to integrate, but to dominate and destroy. The latter do not seek shared bread, but howl at the blood that has been spilled.