Arsen Ostrovsky lay in a hospital bed, wounded but resolute. Just hours before, he’d been celebrating Hanukkah at Bondi Beach when terror struck, leaving a trail of devastation and claiming fifteen lives. Yet, even amidst his pain, he refused to surrender to the darkness.
A friend, Tom Gross, shared that Arsen was “shattered and exhausted, but defiant.” He’d sent a powerful image to those close to him – a photograph of himself lighting a Hanukkah candle, hospital robes and all, a beacon of hope from his bedside. His message was simple, yet profound: “Light will overcome darkness!”
Arsen also extended his thoughts and prayers for the full recovery of everyone injured in the Bondi massacre. The attack had ripped through a joyous celebration, transforming a moment of light into one of unimaginable horror.
As a correspondent for The Jerusalem Post, Arsen had recently returned to his native Australia with his family, including his wife and young daughters. He’d taken a new position with the Australia/Israel & Jewish Affairs Council, a role he felt deeply committed to. Their move, just two weeks prior, was meant to mark a new chapter.
“What I saw yesterday was pure evil, just an absolute bloodbath,” he recounted, the images searing into his memory. “Bodies strewn everywhere. It was like reliving October 7 all over.” The council’s work, he explained, centered on combating the alarming surge of antisemitism that had been escalating for the past two years.
He questioned how such an atrocity could occur in Australia, a nation he believed to be safe. Arsen passionately argued that unchecked hatred, excused or even mainstreamed, inevitably leads to violence. He called for urgent leadership, beyond empty condemnations and unfulfilled promises.
Amidst the horror, Arsen also found solace in the extraordinary courage of ordinary Australians. He spoke of countless individuals who risked their own safety to help, offering comfort and support in the immediate aftermath. This, he insisted, was the true spirit of Australia.
Dionne Taylor, the AIJAC’s communication manager, echoed Arsen’s earlier warnings, questioning how many tragedies it would take for the world – and Australia – to truly awaken to the dangers of unchecked hate. She asked, with a heavy heart, “What will it take for our politicians to wake up?”
Justin Amler, a policy analyst at the council, emphasized the profound significance of continuing to observe Hanukkah. “The Jewish community is hurting right now,” he acknowledged, “But lighting that first candle…is an act of defiance and solidarity.” It was a powerful statement: their identity would not be erased, but proudly celebrated, even in the face of darkness.
The attack targeted families, children, and grandchildren who had gathered to celebrate the festival of lights. Fifteen lives were stolen, leaving an indelible scar on the Australian Jewish community and the nation as a whole. It was a day that would forever be etched in their collective memory.
