With antisemitism in Berlin at a post-WWII high, Israeli expats explain why they stay
The police chief says Jews shouldn’t enter certain neighborhoods and some Muslim immigrants in the city can be hostile to Israel. But it still offers unbeatable perks, Israelis say
BERLIN, Germany — On one of the last days of the year, anti-Israel protesters in Berlin delivered a final boost to Germany’s annual antisemitism numbers, as 2024 easily overtook the record number of anti-Jewish incidents of the year before.
Images were shown on social media of Muslim immigrants at an anti-Israeli rally calling for the Jews to be killed, while an Israeli woman said she was attacked in the German capital on New Year’s Eve when she wore a coexistence badge depicting the Palestinian and Israeli flags.
In the first six months of 2024 alone, there were more antisemitic incidents in the German capital than in all of 2023. No fewer than 25 physical attacks against Jews were recorded in the first half of last year in Berlin, and Holocaust memorials were the target of property damage 21 times. More than seven out of 10 antisemitic incidents were related to Israel, according to RIAS, a federal German watchdog on antisemitism.
Berlin police chief Barbara Slowik caused a stir in November when she advised Jewish and gay inhabitants to be vigilant when traveling through neighborhoods with large Arab communities.
“Unfortunately, there are certain neighborhoods where there are mostly Arab people who also have sympathy for terrorist groups. Open antisemitism is expressed there against people of the Jewish faith and origin,” said Slowik.
Still, members of the Israeli expat community in Berlin remain positive about life in the German capital. Precise numbers are hard to come by, but estimates of Israelis living in Berlin range from 10,000 to about twice that.
Jonathan moved to Berlin almost 10 years ago when he was in his mid-40s. He has his own company that imports high-end baby products and his husband Chanan works for a large international fintech company. The couple has 18-month-old twins, a boy and a girl. Last year, they built their own house in a green area, 20 minutes from Berlin’s city center. Asked about the rising antisemitism in the city, Jonathan admitted he only reads about it on social media.
“Personally, I haven’t experienced it at all. The government, the police, and the laws protect against hate speech. The anti-Israel marches here are more controlled, more limited; they have boundaries,” he said.
“I see people from America posting on X about them. But then again, I don’t go to places like Neukölln or Kreuzberg anymore,” Jonathan said, referring to areas with large concentrations of immigrants from the Middle East.
Before October 7, Jonathan and Chanan used to go to the Sonnenallee, Neukölln’s main street, to get the best hummus.
“Probably nothing would happen if we went now. We are not outwardly Jewish. But if someone wants to kill me, that makes me uncomfortable,” said Jonathan sarcastically. “Our neighborhood is more German. The foreigners in our neighborhood are us. We have been welcomed very nicely by our German neighbors. No one has ever said anything about us being Israeli or Jewish. Here people say hello to each other in the street. It feels more like a small town.”
He added that he has friends calling from Israel saying, “Hey, I hear things are dangerous in Berlin,” and that he responds, “Seriously? You have rockets fired at you.”
“We live in a predominantly white neighborhood, we have German neighbors from across the street who come over when we light Hannukah candles. It’s all very friendly, as it should be,” he said.
The ‘alternative’ view from Kreuzberg
Things are somewhat different for Moscow-born Vicky, who came to Berlin by way of Bat Yam. She works as an artist in a tattoo parlor in Kreuzberg, one of the neighborhoods police chief Slowik warned Jews about. Walking through Kreuzberg, one is struck by the amount of graffiti on the walls of the often somewhat rundown apartment blocks. “Free Palestine” is a favorite theme, illustrated by Palestinian flags, as are “Stop the occupation” and “End genocide.”
Vicky, 28, moves in different circles than Jonathan. Her younger and more alternative German friends and colleagues are more outspokenly anti-Israel. Apart from work opportunities, one of the main reasons why Vicky and her husband moved to Berlin had nothing to do with politics or safety.
“I love Israel, but it’s impossibly hot after Moscow. It shouldn’t be in the Middle East, but somewhere a bit colder,” she said with a smile.
Vicky moved to Germany after the Hamas-led massacre on October 7, in which 1,200 people, mostly civilians, were slaughtered in southern Israel, while 251 were kidnapped to the Gaza Strip.
“I already knew what to expect. I just hoped I would have enough energy and patience to deal with anti-Israel sentiment,” she said.
Having two nationalities, the tattoo artist tells some people she is Israeli and others she is Russian.
“I can often tell which nationality people can or can’t deal with. If I’m in Neukölln, I never mention I’m from Israel. But most of my customers are okay with either. On the other hand, when we were looking for a place to live, I received a message from a potential landlord saying ‘Go back to Russia, I don’t want Jewish murderers here.’ He mixed up everything,” she said, adding that this was an isolated incident.
“A friend of mine in Israel wanted to move… and I recommended that she come to Germany,” Vicky added. “If they are sensitive they will suffer a bit with all the graffiti and the slogans, but the chances of actually meeting someone who will show hatred towards you are small.”
For now, Vicky and her husband have no plans to leave Berlin.
In Sonnenallee, the word on the street is in Arabic
The district of Neukölln, mentioned by both Jonathan and Vicky, lies to the south of Kreuzberg.
On the Sonnenallee, the lingua franca is Arabic, and native Germans are hard to spot. Many men don keffiyehs, and the majority of women wear headscarves. The wide shopping street is dominated by shops with names like Al Quds, the Arab name for Jerusalem, and Middle Eastern barber shops. A large part of the approximately 30,000-40,000 Palestinians in Berlin live in Neukölln. Their flags are everywhere in the shop windows, as are souvenirs referring to the Palestinians and Lebanon. The graffiti is unanimously anti-Israel.
Daniel, a 38-year-old from Tel Aviv, also mentioned Neukölln, but pointed out that the neighborhood he lives in, Wedding, is much quieter, even though it has a large Turkish population. Daniel, who works in hospitality, moved to Berlin in 2021.
“It’s like a calmer, less stressful version of Tel Aviv,” he said. “People move there from all over to find a little haven where they can be the best version of themselves, it’s the same in Berlin.”
Daniel admitted that in the weeks and months after October 7, he was afraid to look at messages on his phone in public out of fear that people would see they were in Hebrew as he did not want to attract attention.
However, the reactions at his workplace after the Hamas atrocities were the opposite of what we had feared.
“For my work, I wear a badge with flags depicting in which languages I can serve guests. After October 7, I asked to take it off, not out of fear, but because of the opposite. Guests — international and especially German — saw the Israeli flag and the level of solidarity and empathy they showed triggered too many emotions. It would literally ruin my shifts. That was very surprising and quite amazing,” he said.
Daniel added that some of his Israeli friends have announced that they would leave Germany if the far-right AfD wins the February 23 elections, despite the pro-Israel stance of the anti-immigrant party. He himself always has a return to Israel on his mind, not so much because of political reasons, but because Daniel’s family and friends live in the Jewish state.
“I can’t imagine living in any other city in Europe. If I move anywhere away from here it will be back to Israel,” he said, adding, “I know I live in a place where the majority still protects me. Besides, I can’t afford to go back to Tel Aviv, it’s too expensive. Migration is always an economic decision.”
