‘I bought a baseball cap to hide my kippah’: Jews observe first Shabbat after Golders Green attack

I bought a baseball cap to hide – For the first time in his life, Derek has chosen to hide his Jewish skullcap, or kippah, when venturing out in public. “I went shopping yesterday and bought a baseball cap,” he explains, revealing his decision to obscure his religious headgear. Derek, who resides in Edgware, a suburb of north London, opted for the cap not out of necessity but to shield himself from potential harassment. “I never wear a baseball cap,” he adds, “but I felt that going on the underground as a religious Jew this week was too risky.” This Shabbat, the sacred weekly observance of the Jewish people, has taken on a new layer of caution for Derek and countless others in Britain.

Shabbat Rituals Amid Fears

Each Friday night, Jews around the world gather to welcome the Sabbath, a time of rest and spiritual reflection. Traditionally, families light candles, share a meal, and recite prayers, creating a comforting rhythm of faith and community. Yet this week’s Shabbat feels distinct for many. While the rituals remain unchanged—candles lit, synagogues filled with worshippers—the atmosphere is charged with anxiety. Derek, like others, acknowledges that the act of attending synagogue will now carry an additional weight. “The silence is deafening,” he says, describing the overwhelming sense of vulnerability that has settled over Jewish communities since the recent attack in Golders Green.

“Unsurprisingly, this week we are going to have even more security. My synagogue is like a prison. And it’s a small synagogue.”

Derek’s experience is echoed by others in the community, who describe the familiar routine as suddenly fraught with tension. The attack on Wednesday in Golders Green, declared a terrorist incident by police, has left an indelible mark. Two men sustained serious injuries during the assault, which sparked a wave of fear and introspection. The community now grapples with the reality that their traditions, once taken for granted, may now require adjustments to ensure safety.

Personal Decisions in a Changing Landscape

Adam Wagner, a respected human rights lawyer, has also been weighing his choices. For years, he has followed the same Shabbat preparation: visiting a kosher bakery to purchase a braided loaf of bread, known as challah. But this time, the thought of stepping into a Jewish site in Golders Green has filled him with dread. “In the back of my mind, I’m thinking how to keep myself from being stabbed in the queue,” he admits. Wagner’s hesitation extends to his personal appearance, as he considers whether to wear his kippah on the way to synagogue. His child has even urged him to make a promise to avoid it, though Wagner remains conflicted. “I still haven’t decided,” he says, “but I would prefer to wear it.”

Despite the fear, Wagner is determined to attend synagogue. “I will be spending this Shabbat as I spend most—behind high walls, with volunteers in stab vests, car-ramming barriers, and professional security guards,” he notes. The experience, though altered, is still a cornerstone of his faith. “It’s not the same as other places of worship,” he says, “but it’s where I feel most connected to my heritage.”

Community Wounds and the Struggle for Normalcy

Jonathan Romain, the former rabbi of Maidenhead synagogue in Berkshire, has taken on a new role in the wake of the Golders Green attack. Now, he spends his Shabbat mornings standing outside the synagogue, guarding the entrance. “After many years of leading services inside, I now repay the debt I’ve owed to others,” he says. “I was on last Saturday, and I’ll be thinking of them this Saturday.” His presence reflects a broader shift: Jewish communities are doubling down on security measures, yet the sense of unease persists. “I shall be worrying about copycat attacks,” Romain adds, “to the one in Golders Green. I hope these new random street attacks will not suddenly multiply.”

For Ben, a lawyer from north London, the attack has prompted a life-altering decision. “In an ideal world, we would take our baby to shul,” he says, referring to the synagogue. “But ever since the Yom Kippur attack last year at Manchester’s Heaton Park synagogue, we have been very, very scared about taking him.” The trauma of that incident, combined with the Golders Green attack, has forced Ben and his wife to reconsider their future. “On the day of the stabbings, we decided we had enough of antisemitism in the UK,” he shares. “Seeing the violence unfold in our own neighborhood has made us choose to move to Israel.”

“My own personal experience, combined with what happened in Manchester last year, means that we are staying away. That saddens me massively and showed that our way of life has been hugely affected and trampled on as a result of these threats.”

The psychological toll of the attacks is evident in the way Jews approach their rituals. For some, the fear of being targeted has led to a retreat from public spaces. “We have gone to synagogue less because of our baby and our need to protect him,” Ben explains. The once-familiar routines of candle lighting, communal prayer, and family gatherings now feel like acts of defiance. Yet, even in the face of uncertainty, many continue to observe Shabbat, a testament to their resilience.

The Golders Green attack is part of a larger pattern of antisemitism that has been escalating in recent months. From arson incidents on ambulances to targeted violence in Jewish communities, the sense of threat has grown. The attack in Golders Green, which occurred on Wednesday, has intensified these concerns, prompting a reassessment of daily practices and a shift in how Jews perceive their place in society. While the specific details of the attack—such as the assailant’s intent and the victims’ identities—are still being uncovered, its impact is already felt in the way people navigate their faith.

For Derek, Adam Wagner, and Ben, the question of safety has become intertwined with their spiritual observance. The act of covering a kippah, once a simple expression of identity, now symbolizes a deeper layer of protection. The community’s silence, both in the streets and within synagogues, is a stark reminder of the challenges they face. Yet, as they continue to mark Shabbat, they do so with a renewed sense of purpose, determined to hold onto their traditions even in the shadow of fear.

The Golders Green incident has not only altered the way Jews perform their rituals but also highlighted the broader implications of antisemitism in the UK. As the community prepares for another Shabbat, the balance between faith and safety remains precarious. For now, the kippah is hidden, the synagogue is guarded, and the hope persists that the spirit of Shabbat—its peace, its connection, its tradition—can endure despite the threats.