Iran’s shadow in Australia’s antisemitism debate  

As Australia’s Royal Commission into Antisemitism and Social Cohesion begins its work, a series of public mourning notices issued by numerous Shi’a Islamic centres in Australia following the death of Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, has added a sharp new edge to an already tense national conversation.

The Commission, established in January 2026 and chaired by former High Court Justice Virginia Bell, was tasked with examining rising antisemitism and threats to social cohesion. This follows the massacre of innocent Australian Jews at Bondi Beach in December 2025. It arrives at a time when antisemitic incidents remain at historically elevated levels.

The Executive Council of Australian Jewry (ECAJ) recorded 1,654 anti-Jewish incidents in the 12 months to September 2025. This represents a roughly 20 per cent decline from the extraordinary spike of 2,062 incidents the year prior. Yet the broader historical comparison is far more sobering. The 2024–25 figure remains approximately 384 per cent higher than the pre-October 2023 ten-year annual average of 342 incidents. That means antisemitic activity is still running at nearly five times its long-term norm.

Against that backdrop, several Australian-based Shi’a institutions publicly announced commemorative gatherings after Khamenei’s reported death in U.S.–Israeli strikes over the past week.

In Sydney, Masjid Arrahman in Kingsgrove circulated an obituary-style notice inviting attendance at gatherings honouring what it described as the “pure soul” of Khamenei. The notice also referenced “martyrs” killed during what it characterised as “American–Israeli aggression”.

Nearby, Husaineyat Sayeda Zainab in Banksia advertised multi-day commemorations, while the Flagbearer Foundation in Arncliffe promoted consecutive evenings of remembrance. In Melbourne’s west, the Elzahra community group issued similar invitations.

The language used in several of these notices is reverential, theological, and explicitly references geopolitical conflict. It has drawn attention well beyond the communities directly involved. As a proud Australian Jew and staunch Zionist, I see the framing of the death of Iran’s long-serving Supreme Leader through martyrdom rhetoric as inevitably carrying inflammatory political implications. This is especially true given the regime’s documented record of repression and hostility towards Israel.

That tension is amplified by findings in the most recent ECAJ report. The report states that Australian security agencies confirmed a link between the Iranian regime, via the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC), and major antisemitic arson attacks in Australia in 2024. In that context, public expressions of solidarity with Iran’s leadership, even if framed religiously, are being interpreted by Jewish community members like myself as more than distant geopolitical commentary.

The political response in Canberra over the past week found a predictable reaction from the Australian Greens, led by Senator Larissa Waters. She focused squarely on condemning the military strike itself. Waters said: “The Greens condemn these illegal, abhorrent and unilateral attacks. Australians do not want to be dragged into another US-Israeli war.” She added: “Australia’s support of Trump and Netanyahu’s illegal attack last night was disgraceful. We cannot bomb our way to peace.”

In a climate of heightened sensitivity, such statements by Larissa Waters are adding fuel to the fire of a political debate already saturated with anxiety about antisemitism, extremism and foreign influence.

For Australian Jews, this convergence of events creates a uniquely complex terrain to navigate.

On one hand, many in the Jewish community view Khamenei’s leadership as synonymous with a regime that has called for Israel’s destruction, funded armed proxies targeting Jewish civilians, and, according to Australian reporting, been linked to antisemitic criminal activity domestically. On the other hand, public mourning gatherings in Australia are being defended by organisers as religious observances rooted in Shi’a tradition rather than explicit political endorsements. I see this as a thinly veiled platform to further criticise Israel and call for Australians to “globalise the Intifada”.

Layered onto that is a polarised political environment in which anti-war rhetoric, foreign policy debates, and diaspora identities intersect in unpredictable ways. The result is not a simple story of opposing camps, but a dense and emotionally charged national moment. Expressions of grief in one community are interpreted as ideological alignment by another. Political denunciations of military action are heard by some as moral consistency, and by others as insufficiently attuned to the security fears of Jewish Australians.

As the Royal Commission gathers evidence and tests the boundaries between free expression, foreign alignment, and hate, this episode illustrates the difficulty of drawing clean lines. In an era where overseas conflicts are instantly absorbed into Australia’s domestic discourse, symbols carry weight far beyond their immediate setting. For Australian Jews, the landscape is therefore not defined by a single event but by the cumulative effect of rising incident data, geopolitical reverberations, and the knowledge that narratives formed abroad can reshape the social climate at home.

In the meantime, Australia finds itself needing to balance principles of pluralism and freedom with a pressing need for security and cohesion. For many Jewish Australians, that balance feels more delicate than it has in decades. My prayers are with the most pro-Jewish US president of my lifetime, Donald Trump, as he attempts to rid the world of the most dangerous and evil regime in the history of the world in Iran.