It’s only in the past few months that I’ve realised just how many Jewish friends I have. Of course, while I obviously know which of them are more fervent than others (the ones who openly discuss the Jewish experience), it’s only since the barbarity of October 7 that I’ve come to realise there are far more of them than I thought. Some I didn’t realise were Jewish at all, friends who are not demonstrative, or who have never espoused their faith in any way that would be noticeable or meaningful. But basically, I know a lot of Jews.
I first wrote about the antisemitism in London a few weeks after the first ceasefire march in London, where for the first time since my teens, I felt what it might be like to be scared, if I were Jewish, that is, which I’m not. But since then, things in our city have got a lot worse. Many of my Jewish friends live in north London, and for a few weeks after the October 7 atrocities I was bombarded with offers of articles written by people who had experienced a sudden rush of antisemitism, whether physically, psychologically, or via social media (the ultimate passive aggressive platform). We published some of them. But the atmosphere in London is even worse now, as it is all over the country.
