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Talk about a dubious distinction for a big city with world-class aspirations. I’m increasingly asked by people both in Canada and abroad about Toronto’s antisemitism problem. Indeed, at conferences I attended in New York and Ottawa earlier this month, many delegates, Jews and non-Jews alike, commiserated with me over this deplorable situation.

What has happened to my Toronto where I and my fellow Jews, due to our Jewish identity, now live with a sense of trepidation we’ve never known in our beloved city? What I feel and hear from other Jews, including some who survived the horrors of the Holocaust, is that Toronto is no longer the carefree place it once was for the Jewish community. I write this just ahead of this weekend’s local Al-Quds Day rally, the annual hate fest whose virulent anti-Israel malice targets the world’s only Jewish state.

By now, many residents have — or should have — a sense of the gravity of antisemitism today in Toronto. Media coverage of the numerous attacks, expressions of indignation from Jewish leaders, and police hate crime statistics all paint an ominous picture: antisemitism, which was already rising before the Oct. 7, 2023 Hamas atrocities in Israel, has surged dramatically since then, with no end in sight.

According to the Toronto Police Service, hate crimes targeting Jews rose by 75 per cent from October 2023 to October 2024. Despite constituting 3.6 per cent of Toronto’s population, Jews were the target of 46 per cent of all hate crimes during that period. Quantifying the problem with data is one thing; experiencing real-life antisemitism is something else altogether.

What does antisemitism — a catch-all for the many forms of Jew-hate — look like in today’s Toronto? It doesn’t look good for this city, whose motto is “Diversity is our strength.”

It would already be bad enough if antisemitism was confined to vile graffiti and snide, discriminatory rhetoric, both of which abound. Sadly, the problem is much larger and more sinister than that.

If antisemitism has long existed in Toronto, the reality now is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced since moving here as a teenager 40 years ago. Same goes for most Jews, even those who’ve lived their entire lives in this city since the end of the Second World War.

To be sure, antisemitism hurts, exacting both a physical and psychological toll on the Jewish community. Since Oct. 7, 2023, acts of Jew-hate in Toronto and their visible effects have been many and far-ranging in their variety. They include shootings of Jewish schools, vandalism of synagogues, arson attacks on Jewish businesses, abuse of Jewish students and teachers in schools, incitement against Jews at public protests, widespread graffiti, antisemitic catcalls on campuses, to say nothing of what goes unreported.

The impact is visible in the extensive safety measures the Jewish community must take for protection. These include stringent security protocols in place at Jewish schools, synagogues and community centres. Recognizing the danger, police have responded, deploying mobile command units in predominantly Jewish neighbourhoods.

Amid the increased threat and heightened worries, Jews have changed public aspects of their daily lives. These include Jews wearing baseball caps to conceal a yarmulke or removing a Star of David necklace or mezuzah from the front doors of their homes. Parents worry about sending their children to Jewish schools and institutions out of concern of future attacks.

The psychological fallout is cumulative. It affects one’s sense of belonging to the community at large. It triggers echoes of disturbing chapters of history. Jews know only too well, for example, that in Nazi Germany the Holocaust began with hateful words which turned into acts of “mischief,” which led to discriminatory laws and actions targeting Jewish citizens while most people looked the other way.

What Jews are now facing in Toronto shouldn’t be happening in this city. Not in 2025. Jews shouldn’t be living in fear, compelled to hide their identity for their safety. Lamentably, much to its own detriment, Toronto has changed when it comes to antisemitism. For this corrosive, downward spiral to end requires a commitment from non-Jews. How long are Jews supposed to wait? How long can we wait?

Read in Toronto Star

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