By Jessica Levy
The events of 7 October have profoundly altered the lives of young Jewish women around the world. That day, when Hamas launched its brutal and unprecedented attack on Israeli civilians, marked a turning point in how many of us perceive our safety, our communities and our identity.
As a young Jewish woman currently on a gap year in Israel, I have experienced a dramatic shift in my sense of security and belonging.
In London, where I was until this January, I felt an unfamiliar sense of alienation. Walking through familiar streets, taking public transport, or simply going about daily life now carried a sense of vulnerability. It is a sentiment echoed by young Jewish women across the globe. Conversations that once flowed freely are now marked by hesitation, as I and many of my peers fear the repercussions of openly expressing our Jewish identity or our connection to Israel. The fear is not just theoretical; reports of antisemitic incidents have surged, and many of us have personally experienced hostility, ranging from microaggressions to outright threats and even physical attacks. We don’t wear our Star of David necklaces. We were told not to walk to school in our uniform which has Jewish symbols. It simply doesn’t feel safe to be a Jewish woman in the streets of London anymore.
Paradoxically, many young Jewish women, including myself, now perceive Israel – a country in an active conflict – as safer than our home countries. When non-Jewish friends questioned my decision to spend time in Israel during my gap year despite the continuing war, I struggled to explain how it felt like a refuge and safe haven. The reality is that, while Israel faces external threats, the solidarity and resilience of its people provide a unique sense of security that is often missing in diaspora communities, where antisemitism has grown more overt and unchallenged.
Yet amid these challenges, there have been powerful moments of unity and empowerment. The recent release of Karina Ariev, Daniella Gilboa, Naama Levy and Liri Albag, the four teenage girls held hostage by Hamas who are the same age as myself and many of my friends on my gap year programme, was a deeply emotional event for many young Jewish women. Their stories of resilience and survival resonated with us on a profound level, serving as a reminder of both the horrors of 7 October and the unbreakable spirit of our people. Being in Israel at the time of their release was an experience like no other. The sense of relief and triumph upon their return was palpable, and in that moment, our collective strength felt undeniable.
I also felt this sense of resilience at the Labour Friends of Israel annual lunch last December, where I had the privilege of hearing from British-Israel citizen Mandy Damari, whose daughter, Emily, was taken hostage from her home on Kibbutz Kfar Aza on 7 October. Mandy is a true inspiration. Her words were a testament to the power of perseverance and solidarity in the face of adversity. She spoke not only of the immediate crisis but of the long-term fight for justice, equality, and recognition – values that resonate deeply with young Jewish women navigating this new and unsettling reality. Seeing Emily’s return after hearing her story was an unparalleled feeling of relief and happiness.
Mandy exemplifies the role that many female family members of hostages have been forced to undertake in the months after 7 October. The incredible way they have dealt with these unwelcomed roles highlights the powerful effect of maternal figures and the unshakeable strength of women. Figures such as Rachel Goldberg-Polin, whose son, Hersh, was murdered by Hamas, and Sharone Lifschitz, whose father, Oded, was killed by the terrorists, are a real testament to women around the world. They have been amazing advocates – not just demonstrating the power and strength of Jewish women and mothers, but women and mothers everywhere.
However, this period has also been marked by profound disappointment. Speaking to many of my peers from the UK to Australia and Argentina, we have felt a deep sense of betrayal by feminist organisations that remained silent in the wake of the sexual violence committed against Israeli women on 7 October. The brutal rapes and assaults carried out by Hamas terrorists were documented, yet the global feminist movement largely failed to acknowledge, let alone condemn, these atrocities. Their silence was deafening, and the trending hashtag “Me Too Unless You’re a Jew” encapsulated the painful double standard that so many of us have experienced.
This realisation has been a turning point for many young Jewish women. We have learned that we cannot always rely on external movements to advocate for us, and, as a result, we have become more vocal and proactive in standing up for ourselves and our community. One of the young women on my gap year programme explained to me that she felt a responsibility that she hadn’t previously to become a social media activist, doing the job of those that she followed that haven’t spoken up at the most important times. Social media has become a battleground for truth, where young Jewish women are taking it upon themselves to challenge misinformation, call out hypocrisy and share their lived experiences.
As young Jewish women, we refuse to be defined by fear. Instead, we are choosing to stand strong, speak out and reaffirm our place in the global conversation. We are more than just witnesses to history – we are active participants in shaping our future, ensuring that our voices are heard, and our stories are told. The challenges we face are great, but so, too, is our resolve.
Jessica Levy worked as an events and communications assistant at Labour Friends of Israel. She is now participating in a gap year programme in Israel
