‘I’d feel safer in Israel’: ME conflict affecting mental health in Australia

“Honestly? I know it’s a war zone, but I’d feel safer in Israel than in Melbourne,” says a participant in Jewish Care Victoria’s new community consultation report.

The report’s findings offer a sobering insight into the myriad of mental health challenges facing the community, broadly organised into two themes: trauma-based impacts and identity-based impacts. While the trauma-based impacts include acute feelings of grief, mental ill-health, and rising antisemitism, the identity-based impacts include questions of identity, relationship conflicts and concerns for the future.

“The biggest takeaway was that it reaffirmed how diverse this experience has been, that each person has experienced this so differently,” says Cassandra Barrett, Community Education and Partnerships Manager at Jewish Care. “But what's common to everybody is pain. What drives that, and the form it takes, varies.”

“Maybe the pain is ‘my adult child hasn't spoken to me in a year, because they want me to disavow Israel’. Or maybe the pain is, ‘my kids are in the IDF, and I'm terrified’. Or maybe the pain is ‘the growing antisemitism makes me feel like I don't belong in Australia anymore’.”

Funded by the South-Eastern Melbourne Primary Health Network, the report is part of a Commonwealth Government initiative to support the mental health of the Victorian Jewish community in the wake of October 7.

Representatives from Jewish community organisations and settings participated in consultations from May to July, with a particular focus on young people and first responders. For Barrett, it was important to include a broad range of perspectives, including those that might not be represented by mainstream community representatives.

“I tried to get a good cross-section of younger people and grassroots organisations, formal Jewish leadership of peak bodies, and then different individuals who might hold a stance that is a more marginalised one,” she says.

“So, someone who might identify as non-Zionist, or for whom they've historically been part of the Left, that kind of thing. I tried to [also include] formal organisations, individual representatives, some focus groups of young people, and youth movements.”

Two main questions were put to participants during consultations. Firstly, to describe the impact on mental health and wellbeing, both personal and communal, and within settings such as university, work, and family life. Secondly, to offer their thoughts on what activities and resources might help support mental health, and whether there are any literacy gaps or barriers in delivering them.

Compiling dozens of direct quotes from those consultations, the report is a confronting depiction of the community’s mental health crisis. Discussing the trauma-based impact of acute grief, one participant states: “My cousin was taken into Gaza. We still don’t have his body, don’t know what happened to him. How are we supposed to grieve or move forward?”

Another participant encapsulates the traumatic impact of a widespread, interconnected grief: “In such a small community it’s impossible not to be affected. Everyone knows someone [who has been directly impacted or killed].”

Beyond the immediate trauma of the October 7 terrorist attack, participants also detailed the impact of rising antisemitism within Melbourne, with one saying: “We were in Israel recently and felt much more settled there. Yes, having to run to shelters is awful, and there are lots of other challenges too – but at least you don’t feel alone there.

“You aren’t afraid of your fellow citizens like you are here; you’re not in the minority, you’re not the “other”. My friends living in Israel say the same thing – ‘I’ve seen what’s happening in Melbourne, it must be so hard for you’ - they actually feel sorry for us.”

Meanwhile, the identity-based impacts show diverse, often divergent, reactions to the situation within the Jewish community. While some participants felt shunned bythe community for criticising Israel’s government or the war in Gaza, others felt alienated from the wider Australian community for taking a pro-Israel stance. Several participants too, felt stranded in the middle, forced to compromise parts of their identity, or abandoned by all sides.

“I’m too left for the Jewish community, too ‘Zionist’ for my non-Jewish friends. I’m stranded in the middle,” says one participant. “I feel like no one speaks for me. Politically I feel homeless. It is so painfully lonely.”

Another participant details the ostracism of Jewish people within the LGBTQI community: “I’m a ‘northside Jew’. LGBTQI settings were previously my safe place, but not anymore – it’s palpable, I’m not welcome there. I feel like I’ve had to choose between being queer and being Jewish. It’s a complete headfuck, these two inextricable parts of myself. And it’s so lonely.”

Some participants described feelings of othering or disconnection within Australian society, paired with anger and a sense of abandonment by the government:

“[October 7] has fundamentally changed my view of who I am; of what it means to be a Jewish Australian. I, and so many others, feel deeply and irretrievably betrayed – by our leadership, by our institutions, by fellow citizens. So many that we thought were allies have fallen away. I don’t believe there is a place for me in this country anymore.”

However, many participants also described feelings of a strengthened or renewed connection with the Jewish community, which had brought a positive impact, despite the situation.

“I feel so much more connected to the community. I’ve been going to so many more events, activities than I normally would, observing chagim (holidays) more. It’s been nice to reconnect with this part of myself,” says one participant.

“The lines between us seem so meaningless now. Progressive, Orthodox – we’re all Jews,” says another.

This sentiment is one that has given Barrett hope while working on the report. “What I found inspiring through all this was that a lot of participants, especially those that might have represented particular parts of the community, [said] that the lines between us feel quite meaningless now,” she says.

Looking to the future, Barrett and the team at Jewish Care has already started offering various forms of support to community members and organisations. The work has included assisting youth movements with tackling questions about Israel, providing youth mental health first aid for Community Service Group responders, and training around mental health and halacha for the rabbis and rebbetzins of the Rabbinical Council of Victoria.

Both the work and the report reflect a community that, while facing an unprecedented crisis, is also coming together. “There's such a deeply communal experience that I think for many people has been distressing, of course, but also galvanising,” says Barrett. There's been a renewed connection with identity, with Jewish practice, whatever that looks like for someone.”

“I think it's shown the best of our community in lots of ways, in a really hard time.”