What Choice Do We Really Have? A Diaspora Jew From Canada and Australia Confronts Betrayal

I was born in Canada. I’ve lived in Australia for more than 30 years. I have always considered myself blessed to live in these two liberal democracies — places that once proudly upheld human rights, justice, and moral clarity. I believed, maybe naively, that as a Jew and a Zionist, I was safe here. That I belonged.

But over the past two years, something fundamental has broken. The moral compass I thought guided the nations I’ve called home has been shattered — and with it, the sense of security I once took for granted.

Australia — my home — has formally sanctioned two Israeli ministers, a move cloaked in diplomatic language but dripping with moral confusion. Our government draws false equivalencies between Israel, a sovereign democracy defending itself — and Hamas, a terrorist organization that burned babies alive, raped women, and dragged Holocaust survivors into captivity. It’s not just offensive — it’s betrayal. And, where is the public recognition that Israel is taking remarkable, unilateral steps that keep not just Israel, but the world, safer from Iran’s global nuclear intentions?

Canada, where I was raised, no longer feels like the Canada I knew. Jews are hounded on university campuses. Holocaust memorials are vandalized. Anti-Israel encampments fly swastikas with impunity. Protesters shout genocidal slogans and call it “free speech.” And through it all, governments and institutions equivocate, hedge, and hide.

To be a Jew in the Diaspora today is to be confronted, constantly, with a sense of isolation. The antisemitism we were told would “never again” return has not only returned — but is thriving. It’s bold. It’s loud. It’s mainstream.

We’re not imagining it. We’re living it.

We’re walking past graffiti accusing Jews of genocide. We’re watching Jewish students silenced by mob intimidation while university administrators look away. We’re seeing celebrities, influencers, and elected officials amplify the propaganda of those who openly call for Israel’s destruction. We’re standing at vigils for hostages and hearing the jeers of counter-protesters who deny October 7, 2023, even happened.

And the worst part? The silence.

The silence from those who once said they were our allies. The silence of political leaders too afraid to speak with moral clarity. The silence of institutions terrified of being labelled “controversial” for standing with Jews.

How did we get here?

How did it become controversial to say that Jews deserve safety? That Israel has a right to exist? That mass rape and child murder are not acts of resistance?

This isn’t about left or right. This is about right and wrong. And too many governments, too many media outlets, and too many public voices have lost the courage — or the will — to tell the difference.

As a Jew in the Diaspora, I’m tired. Tired of the doublespeak. Tired of the gaslighting. Tired of being told we’re imagining things. We’re not. We’re awake. And we know exactly what we’re seeing.

So what choice do we have?

To stay silent is to abandon our future. To apologize for our identity is to dishonor our past. And to give up on Israel — the one place where Jewish safety is not theoretical — is to betray everything we’ve learned from history.

We cannot outsource our safety. We cannot rely on others to defend us. We must stand up — clearly, unapologetically, and proudly.

This is why I do the work I do.  Because we need to educate. We need to empower. And we need to fight back — against hatred, against lies, and against the slow, steady erosion of truth.

What choice do we really have?

We choose to fight. Because the alternative is unthinkable.

Michael Gencher is Executive Director, StandWithUs Australia, a 24 year-old international education organisation that supports Israel and fights antisemitism.