On October 24, 2025, a Russian missile struck the central synagogue in the city of Kherson in southeastern Ukraine. Although it did not explode, the missile completely destroyed the building; the synagogue’s rabbi survived miraculously, having left the building just seconds before the strike. The same synagogue was also attacked on October 9, when a Russian cluster shell hit one of its walls. On October 22, during a routine air raid on Kyiv, Ukraine’s capital, a Russian drone hit a synagogue in the Podil neighborhood, causing extensive damage. In August this year, the day after Tisha B’Av, a Russian “Shahed” drone struck the historic synagogue in the city of Odesa in southern Ukraine.
The frequency of attacks on synagogues raises doubts about their accidental nature, especially in light of the claims by the Russian authorities that their army uses advanced and “smart” missiles and drones. Despite Russian statements that its military operations target only strategic and military objectives, Russian bombardments of Ukraine’s hinterland have severely damaged the country’s civilian infrastructure—with the clear intent of making Ukraine uninhabitable. Houses of worship can thus be seen as “quality targets,” whose destruction undermines the fabric of civilian life. Three and a half years since the invasion, the brutality and cynicism of Russia’s conduct of the war no longer surprise anyone.
Russia’s President Putin has little reason to feel sympathy toward Ukrainian Jewry. The Jewish identity of Ukraine’s leader, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, infuriates the Russian leadership, which is trying to convince the world that Ukraine is ruled by a “neo-Nazi regime.” Putin and his ministers employ blatantly antisemitic rhetoric toward Zelenskyy, combining distortions of the Holocaust with anti-Western conspiracy theories. While the Russian president accuses “ethnic Jews” of persecuting the Russian Orthodox Church in Ukraine, his foreign minister, Sergey Lavrov, has philosophized about the “Jewish roots” of both Hitler and Zelenskyy. Yet the Kremlin’s anger is not directed only at Zelenskyy. The leaders of Ukraine’s Jewish community have publicly supported the country’s sovereignty and its struggle against Russia. Rabbi Moshe Asman, Ukraine’s chief rabbi and Chabad emissary, harshly condemned the Russian invasion. Asman’s son, a soldier in the Ukrainian army, fell in battle. It is no coincidence that a senior adviser to Russia’s Security Council lashed out at the Chabad movement in Ukraine, calling it a “sect that controls the country.”
Whether the strikes on synagogues are deliberate or coincidental, Russia has not issued any apology. Equally troubling is the world’s response—or rather, its absence. Although most of the damaged synagogues belong to the Chabad movement, Russia’s Chief Rabbi, Berel Lazar, who is a close ally of Putin, has remained silent. International Jewish organizations and Western governments have not condemned the attacks. Likewise, the United States, which mediates between Russia and Ukraine to end the war, has not voiced any protest. Israel, too, has remained silent.
The international community’s silence underscores the normalization of the war in Ukraine. This silence also erodes the moral foundation underpinning the global struggle against antisemitism. Beyond its moral dimension, the fight against antisemitism carries a distinct strategic importance. This is true regarding the rampant antisemitism in Western Europe and is equally relevant to Russia’s repeated bombings of synagogues in Ukraine. It is crucial not to allow this phenomenon to become normalized.
On October 24, 2025, a Russian missile struck the central synagogue in the city of Kherson in southeastern Ukraine. Although it did not explode, the missile completely destroyed the building; the synagogue’s rabbi survived miraculously, having left the building just seconds before the strike. The same synagogue was also attacked on October 9, when a Russian cluster shell hit one of its walls. On October 22, during a routine air raid on Kyiv, Ukraine’s capital, a Russian drone hit a synagogue in the Podil neighborhood, causing extensive damage. In August this year, the day after Tisha B’Av, a Russian “Shahed” drone struck the historic synagogue in the city of Odesa in southern Ukraine.
The frequency of attacks on synagogues raises doubts about their accidental nature, especially in light of the claims by the Russian authorities that their army uses advanced and “smart” missiles and drones. Despite Russian statements that its military operations target only strategic and military objectives, Russian bombardments of Ukraine’s hinterland have severely damaged the country’s civilian infrastructure—with the clear intent of making Ukraine uninhabitable. Houses of worship can thus be seen as “quality targets,” whose destruction undermines the fabric of civilian life. Three and a half years since the invasion, the brutality and cynicism of Russia’s conduct of the war no longer surprise anyone.
Russia’s President Putin has little reason to feel sympathy toward Ukrainian Jewry. The Jewish identity of Ukraine’s leader, Volodymyr Zelenskyy, infuriates the Russian leadership, which is trying to convince the world that Ukraine is ruled by a “neo-Nazi regime.” Putin and his ministers employ blatantly antisemitic rhetoric toward Zelenskyy, combining distortions of the Holocaust with anti-Western conspiracy theories. While the Russian president accuses “ethnic Jews” of persecuting the Russian Orthodox Church in Ukraine, his foreign minister, Sergey Lavrov, has philosophized about the “Jewish roots” of both Hitler and Zelenskyy. Yet the Kremlin’s anger is not directed only at Zelenskyy. The leaders of Ukraine’s Jewish community have publicly supported the country’s sovereignty and its struggle against Russia. Rabbi Moshe Asman, Ukraine’s chief rabbi and Chabad emissary, harshly condemned the Russian invasion. Asman’s son, a soldier in the Ukrainian army, fell in battle. It is no coincidence that a senior adviser to Russia’s Security Council lashed out at the Chabad movement in Ukraine, calling it a “sect that controls the country.”
Whether the strikes on synagogues are deliberate or coincidental, Russia has not issued any apology. Equally troubling is the world’s response—or rather, its absence. Although most of the damaged synagogues belong to the Chabad movement, Russia’s Chief Rabbi, Berel Lazar, who is a close ally of Putin, has remained silent. International Jewish organizations and Western governments have not condemned the attacks. Likewise, the United States, which mediates between Russia and Ukraine to end the war, has not voiced any protest. Israel, too, has remained silent.
The international community’s silence underscores the normalization of the war in Ukraine. This silence also erodes the moral foundation underpinning the global struggle against antisemitism. Beyond its moral dimension, the fight against antisemitism carries a distinct strategic importance. This is true regarding the rampant antisemitism in Western Europe and is equally relevant to Russia’s repeated bombings of synagogues in Ukraine. It is crucial not to allow this phenomenon to become normalized.