Approximately three miles—that’s the distance between my home and Temple Israel in West Bloomfield, Michigan.
In February of this year, I sat in that house of worship twice to celebrate Bar Mitzvahs. One of them was my grandson’s thirteenth birthday. My children belong to that congregation. My grandchildren walk those hallways.
So when a Lebanese-American drove a truck into that building — a temple that houses an early childhood center filled with small children — this wasn’t some distant headline from across the country.
It was personal. It was less than three miles from my home.
Fortunately, a miracle occurred that day—no children were killed. Security stopped the attacker before the situation became even more catastrophic. But the question that lingers is unavoidable:
Why does a preschool inside a house of worship need armed security in America?
Let’s be clear about Israel. It is a democracy. Like any other nation, its policies are fair game for criticism; in fact, many Israelis criticize their own government loudly and passionately every day.
But attacking Jewish schools and synagogues in America or Europe is not criticism of Israel.
It is antisemitism. Pure and simple.
The people who carry out such attacks — whether white supremacists, radical extremists, or terrorist fanatics — often cloak their hatred in political language. But their targets tell the truth. They do not attack Israel or Israeli politicians.
These cowardly bigots attack Jewish children in lands far from Israel’s borders.
Jewish Children.
This attack on a Michigan Jewish temple did not occur in isolation. Across the United States and Europe, Jewish institutions are increasingly targeted—
Synagogues,
Schools,
Community centers,
Cemeteries.
A pattern Jews know all too well. For centuries, when societies become angry, unstable, or frightened, Jews somehow end up blamed for problems they had nothing to do with. History has played this script many times before.
And that’s why we carry a quiet awareness that many others never have to think about:
Hatred towards Jews never fully disappears. It waits for permission.
A couple of years ago, I wrote a novel titled The Anti-Semite Next Door.
The title reflects an uncomfortable truth. Antisemites are rarely cartoon villains. They don’t walk around announcing themselves. They live in our communities. They hold jobs. They sit beside us in classrooms and offices. And most of the time, they look like everyone else.
Until they don’t. Until rhetoric turns into vandalism—vandalism turns into violence— and violence turns into senseless tragedy.
One reason I began writing political commentary was to confront something that deeply troubled me. Bigoted rhetoric has crept into mainstream political discourse. When our leaders so casually flirt with white supremacists, minimize antisemitism, or wink at conspiracy theories about Jewish power or influence, this is not ugly politics as usual.
This is a government blessing to spew hate speech. You see, hate rarely begins with violence—it begins with words. And when words go unchallenged or are encouraged, they create an atmosphere where someone feels that he or she has permission to act and eventually decides to act.
Here’s a question worth asking:
When was the last time you heard of a Jewish extremist walking into a mosque or church looking to massacre the people inside?
Yet the reverse scenario — attacks on synagogues — has become tragically familiar.
Yesterday:
Pittsburgh.
Poway.
Colleyville.
Today:
West Bloomfield.
Many Jews are exhausted by the cycle. Outrage. Condemnation. Thoughts and prayers. Conciliation until the next attack.
And the next.
And the next.
The time has come for the conversation to shift from reaction to prevention.
There are no easy answers, but here are a few suggestions:
1. Our political leaders must stop normalizing hate.
Dog whistles and conspiracy rhetoric are not harmless political theater.
2. Schools must teach the history of antisemitism honestly.
Many young people simply do not understand where this hatred started or leads.
3. Communities must defend all houses of worship.
Today’s synagogue could be tomorrow’s mosque or church.
4. Honest dialogue must separate criticism of Israel’s government from hatred of Jews.
Blurring those lines only fuels the problem.
Antisemitism is often called “the oldest hatred.” But history also tells us something else:
When antisemitism rises, other forms of hate follow.
It is too often the first warning sign that society’s moral guardrails are starting to collapse.
The attack on Temple Israel did not happen in some distant land.
It happened less than three miles from my home—at a place where my children and grandchildren attend religious school and services. Where families celebrate simchas and holidays, perform mitzvahs, and socialize with neighbors.
Where my Family members go to worship—less than three miles from my home. Where we go to celebrate life’s most sacred moments.
Hatred that close to home should terrify every decent person — Jewish or not.
We can be better—we must be better. Let’s start today. Right now. Because if your politics lead you to attack a synagogue, your problem isn’t Israel, it’s Jews.
Mark M. Bello is an attorney and award-winning author of the Zachary Blake Legal Thriller Series, ripped-from-the-headlines, realistic fiction that speaks truth to power and champions the rights of citizens in our justice system. These novels are dedicated to the social justice movement. They educate, spark discussion, and inspire readers to action. One of these novels, Betrayal High, was written in response to school shootings. For more information, please visit www.markmbello.com.
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