Why We Proudly Stood with Israel in Brighton
After a week in which British Jews have felt even more isolated than ever, we joined activists in Brighton to take a bold and public stand with Israel. Read accounts from marchers on why they marched, and check out the videos, and social media coverage.

This week the media almost unanimously claimed that images of seriously ill Gazan children were proof of starvation, whilst world leaders appeased the architects of October 7th with the promise of a state from which to conduct even more acts of terror. Closer to home, performers were excluded from the upcoming Edinburgh Fringe festival and trans rights campaigners were excluded from a pride march.
In other words, it was a week in which it felt to many British Jews as if the world was turning its back on the only Jewish state, and its fight for survival.
All of which made it crucial that this weekend, Jews and their allies were as visible as possible in public life, and on the streets.
On Sunday, activists from Stop the Hate and Our Fight took the train south to join with campaign groups Sussex Friends of Israel and Jewish and Proud, to be as bold, proud, and loud as possible on the streets of Brighton.
Below we capture some of the flavour of the day with videos, news reports, social media—including an X post that has over 2m views and climbing—and most importantly, personal reports from AJ Tragen, Emanuela Spadoni, Margarita and Anika, on why they felt compelled to join the march.
Please share this with your friends and family, so that they know that even in these dark times there are allies who will continue to fight. And encourage them to subscribe to our newsletter and social media accounts.
Follow our work by subscribing to our newsletter and support us by making a donation.
A Personal Act of Resilience and Identity
AJ Tragen writes that she was marching for our shared values of freedom of expression:
On Sunday I went to Brighton to fly the Israeli flag—not as a political statement, but as a deeply personal and communal act of remembrance, resilience, and identity.
My purpose was to raise awareness for the hostages still being held—innocent people whose stories have faded from headlines but not from our hearts. They deserve to be remembered and fought for.

I also came to celebrate survival—the survival of so many who lived through the horrors of October 7th and its aftermath, not only physically but mentally and emotionally. That day left deep wounds. And yet, we continue—grieving, healing, and remaining proud of who we are.
Flying the Israeli flag is my way of expressing that pride. It is a statement of freedom of speech, of Jewish identity, and of our right to exist and be seen. It should not be controversial to say that we are strong, proud Jews who refuse to be silent—especially in the face of rising anti-Semitism.
Brighton should be the right place to do this. If it truly stands for diversity, inclusion, and freedom of expression, these values must apply to everyone—including Jews.
Supporting Israel’s right to exist does not mean endorsing every action of its government, just as supporting any country’s existence doesn’t mean agreeing with all of its politics. But we do stand for the right of the Jewish people to have a homeland and to live in safety and dignity.
Inspired by a Non-Jewish Zionist
Emanuela Spadoni writes of how she has been inspired to stand with Israel by her non-Jewish grandfather's experience in Auschwitz:
I was born in Italy and I live in the UK. I'm not Jewish. My Italian grandfather was a non-Jewish prisoner of war in Auschwitz for nearly a year; he spoke of nothing else so I began learning about the Shoah when I was seven years old.
He was a fervent Zionist, although I don't think he knew there was a word for his unshakeable belief that the Jewish people are entitled to their own homeland in which to live in peace, safety and prosperity. Every time war was waged against Israel, he was incredulous. He always maintained (and I agree) that nothing can wash away the crimes of the Holocaust, but he used to say that if he had been asked to give his land to a Jewish family in reparation, he would have said yes with no hesitation—despite the fact that, as a farmer, he possessed nothing else.
The horror and the depravity of anti-Semitism that he witnessed in Auschwitz became for him the needle of humanity's moral compass. Primo Levi so eloquently described that same feeling in his testimony Se Questo È Un Uomo (If This Is A Man).

To this date, I am still looking for an answer to the question that puzzled my grandfather: what kind of mentality says no (and continues to do so) to the people who have suffered the most heinous crimes committed by mankind and are searching for a tiny piece of land, their home, where they can find shelter and reckoning and a chance to build life again?
I still don't have the words to describe such a mentality but I know what it looks like. It looks like the almost completely naked and mutilated body of a defenceless young woman, Shani Louk, being abused amongst cheers and jubilation. It is the same mentality.
I joined the march in Brighton with both the British and the Italian flags, in solidarity with the many flags of Israel.
As a woman, I joined the march for Shani, for all the other victims of the massacre of October 7th, 2023, in Israel, for the victims deliberately murdered while being held captive, and for myself.
I joined to remind the city of Brighton of the 50 people still held hostage. Some of them are dead, some of them are seriously injured and ill, they are held in tunnels underground, tortured and starved; the only value their captors place on their lives is the ability to use them to bargain.
I joined to share the streets of Brighton with friends, especially Jewish friends who have growing and impossible demands put upon them: to disagree with Israel's policies, to condemn Israel, to boycott their homeland, to disown Zionism, to hide their beliefs, to erode their identity, and to accept that their existence becomes conditional upon this.
This cannot be and won't be allowed to happen.
Sooner or later, anyone with a stake in the society we live in will be called to make a choice. Anyone with a historical perspective and with critical thinking should make it sooner rather than later. They must choose not to be silent or silenced.
Allowing the mentality that leads to anti-Semitism and violent propaganda against the only Jewish state to remain unnamed and unchecked is a grave danger to our society as a whole and to us all. How we respond and how we oppose it defines who we are and who we become.
The march in Brighton showed who we are.
Never Again
Margarita's parents' experience in Mandate Palestine—and her watching of Fiddler on the Roof as a young child—instilled in Margarita a lifelong commitment to the future of Israel:
Many moving stories reminded me of my parents during the War
My dad was stationed in Mandate Palestine which was what was on his army papers. We were Greeks from Constantinople, which is where I am from, and which fell under the British Army.
My parents got married very young. My mom was told my dad had been killed and she named my brother after him. But a few months later a neighbour who returned due to injury told my mom that he had seen my dad working in POW camp.
My mom left my brother with her mom, joined the army and went to "Israel" and found my dad through the authorities there.
They told me they were baptised in the Jordan River and received a military wedding too, so that they could stay together during war.
Their story could be a war time movie!

Later in 1964 all Greeks were exiled from Constantinople by the Turks. I was 4. The family went to Athens but there were no jobs due to an influx of Greek exiles, so in 1966 the family went to Johannesburg—which is why I am Greek with a South African accent.
Growing up, I recall many stories of Sharia law that my family had endured in Turkey. And seeing the film "Fiddler on the roof" when I was still very young further encouraged me support Israel. My parents called me their "Jewish child".
I wish I had questioned my parents more about their fascinating lives.
I support Israel because I am Christian and their G-d is my G-d.
I march for Israel because there are only 16 million Jewish people in the world, and their ancestral homeland is The Promised Land.
I march for redemption of what the world allowed to happen in the past.
I will Never Again allow Jewish people to be persecuted, so on my watch I will do whatever I humanly can to prevent it.
This is why I marched on Sunday.
When Jewish people thank me, I always say it is Jewish people who are fighting jihadists to keep me safe. It is Jewish sons, daughters, fathers, cousins who are dying. The thanks and the gratitude are from us non-Jews to Israel and the Jewish people.
Challenging Dangerous and Malicious Lies
Anika was moved to stand with Israel after seeing the glee with which her radical friends greeted the pogroms of October 7th:
I’m 24, and I’m a non-Jewish woman living near London. As a teenager, I was surrounded by extreme left-wingers and unfortunately I went along with the crowd and supported the pro-Palestine movement, for which I am now deeply regretful. However, when I woke up on the morning of October 7th, 2023 and saw my so-called friends justifying or even celebrating the horrific attack perpetrated by Hamas, I felt my entire worldview shatter in an instant.
The horrendous footage from that day made it clear that the pro-Palestine propaganda I had been fed all my life was a dangerous and malicious lie. I immediately started reading history books to learn the truth about the conflict, and once I fully understood where these anti-Semitic lies come from and how deeply rooted they are in our society, I knew I had to do my part to stand up against them.
Over the past two years, I have been called a fascist and a genocidal psychopath by people I once considered my closest friends, but this has only made me more determined to stand up for what I believe.
So many young people in this country have been radicalised into supporting Islamist terrorists who want to destroy not only Israel, but also Britain and every other western nation, and I find it incredibly sad and disturbing to witness. By participating in pro-Israel activities whenever possible—including the march in Brighton on Sunday—I hope to raise awareness of the truth among other members of my generation, and to show the extremist mob that they cannot silence or intimidate us.
Read
Hundreds join Brighton march demanding action on antisemitism and hostage return (in the Jewish News)

Proud to march for Israel through the streets of Brighton! ❤️🇮🇱 with Jewish & Proud / @StopTheHate_UK / @OurFightUk pic.twitter.com/Y5r2ONsBY3
— Sussex Friends of Israel (@SussexFOI) July 27, 2025
In Brighton, to show solidarity with Israel.
— OurFightUk (@OurFightUk) July 27, 2025
When they try to drive Zionists from public life, we must get louder and prouder. pic.twitter.com/qo2sEEDImp