Hanukkah in Berlin: Some advised the rabbi to leave the country

Jewish Festival of Lights - Hanukkah in Berlin: Some advised the rabbi to leave the country - not with Jeremy Borovitz!

"The time for hiding is over," says the man who wants to shed light on this dark Germany in the winter of 2023. He is standing in the foyer of Berlin-Neukölln's town hall on Monday evening, wearing a kippah in defiant bright orange.

The kippah is the sign of his triumph.

Rabbi Jeremy Brorovitz during his speech at the Hanukkah celebration in Berlin-Neukölln town hall.

Jeremy Borovitz lives in Neukölln. There are easier places for a rabbi. And yet he has never wanted to move away since he came here from New York five years ago. He always wore his kippah proudly on the streets of the neighborhood and put up with being insulted, harassed and sometimes even spat at. No matter what had happened the day before, Jeremy Borovitz walked out of his front door the next morning with a kippah on his head.

No more kippahs on the street

Until October 7. A Jewish friend who runs a security company came by with a worried expression and a security vest. He told me about the Hamas terror attack, about the dead and the abducted. Meanwhile, a Palestinian network was handing out sweets on Sonnenallee, just a hundred meters from her apartment, to celebrate the murders. No more kippahs on the street. No more Hebrew on the subway, the friend implored.

Nights of riots followed, in which anti-Semitism roared through the streets of Neukölln more openly and hatefully than anywhere else in Germany. There were also days when what must have been simmering subliminally for a long time poured out. In the first month after the Hamas terror attack, the Rias network's reporting offices recorded almost 1,000 anti-Semitic incidents nationwide. In Berlin alone there were 282.

Jeremy Brorovitz and his wife hid their Jewishness. They could feel the fear gripping the Jews in Berlin. Jews from all over the world wrote to him and urged him to leave the country.

Fear is not a good companion

"But we soon realized that fear is not a good companion," says Borovitz. "That's why I'm standing here now. I no longer want to deny what I believe in." That evening, district mayor Martin Hikel (SPD) invited people to the Hanukkah celebration in the town hall. He had declared: "We will not allow the anti-Semitism of a few to inhibit the joy of life and the hope of many. We want to set an example: for togetherness, for diversity, for Jewish life and against all anti-Semitism."

Hanukkah celebration at the town hall in Berlin-Neukölln, here on the balcony.

Nevertheless, the demonstration had to take place under increased police protection. But as the festive community gathers in front of the town hall to witness the lighting of the candles of the eight-branched Hanukkah candelabrum, people clap loudly, defiantly and with relief. About the fact that normality, or at least a variant of it, is still possible in Germany, if only people don't allow themselves to be unsettled; if only they come together.

And Jeremy Borovitz, he hugs and hugs and puts his thumbs up, welcoming people back inside the town hall to celebrate the Jewish Festival of Lights. Then he gives a speech, it becomes very quiet: "I am standing here not only as a rabbi, but also as a Jew from Neukölln. I came to Germany with my family five years ago. I store in the same store as the people here, my children play in the same playgrounds as all the children here. As a New Yorker, I always thought I was familiar with the multi-cultural life here. But as a Jew with a kippah, it's sometimes difficult in Neukölln. And the last few months have been particularly difficult. People from all over the world write to me saying it's not safe for Jews in Neukölln. I understand the fear. But we are here today. Neukölln residents. Jews and Jews. Christians and Christians. Muslims and Muslims. Israelis and Israelis, Palestinians and Palestinians. We say: We will not allow the world to write our history. The darkness is everywhere, it frightens us. But on Hanukkah we see the light again. And the light in Neukölln is particularly bright. The light comes from the organizations that make our neighborhood better, the light comes from all of you here. This is the time to do our best. So, let's bring a little more light into our neighborhood!"

Many Muslims condemn the hatred of Jews

After the speech, Seyran Ates, the Berlin lawyer and founder of the liberal Ibn Rushd Goethe Mosque in Moabit, hugs him. "It is important for me to be here because I want to show that there are many Muslims who condemn hatred of Jews. We are here alongside the Jewish communities," she says.

Hutifa Al-Mashhadany has also come. He runs one of the largest secular language schools for Arabic in Berlin with over 800 students. "We don't want this violence here in Germany. We don't want hatred on the streets. No Hamas, no terrorists," he says. He has initiated a declaration by 36 Arab associations condemning the terrorist organization. On his cell phone, he shows photos from one of his Arabic classes. Jewish and Muslim children learn together there, they can be seen happily together on excursions and in the classroom.

Meanwhile, Jeremy Borovitz dances with children to klezmer music, donuts and kosher mulled wine are served and for a few brief moments everything seems relaxed and easy in Neukölln.

Does he feel safe here again?

Borovitz thinks a little. "Not as safe as I was on October 6. But I'm not going to hide anymore."