Rosh Hashanah Under Guard: When France Measures Antisemitism in Ministerial Telegrams
Interior Minister Laurent Nuñez has ordered prefects to tighten security around synagogues ahead of the Tishrei holidays. The reflex has become so routine it speaks volumes: in France, the Jewish calendar is now a security calendar — and no one seems surprised anymore.
In a few days, the Jews of France will enter the month of Tishrei: Rosh Hashanah from Friday, September 11 to Sunday, September 13, Yom Kippur on the 20th, Sukkot starting on the 25th. And as happens every year now, the arrival of the new year comes with an administrative document: a telegram from the Interior Minister, dated August 31, instructing prefects and law enforcement to "heighten their vigilance" around Jewish places of worship. In it, Laurent Nuñez notes that the terrorist threat "continues to weigh on our country," aggravated by "the persistence of tensions on the international stage."
The figures cited by the minister himself give the measure of the problem. In 2025, 1,320 antisemitic acts were recorded by the national territorial intelligence directorate. In the first half of 2026, the count stands at 532 — down 18%, with a spike in March "linked to the deterioration of the situation in the Middle East." One might be tempted to read that as good news. That would be a misreading.
Because the two data points that really matter lie elsewhere. First, the proportion: antisemitic acts account for half of all anti-religious incidents in France — 53% in 2025, 47% in the first half of 2026 — while Jews make up less than 1% of the population. Second, the nature of the acts: most are "attacks on persons," and that share is growing — 67% in 2025, 73% in the first half of 2026. In other words, even as the volume drops, the violence is concentrating on bodies. Fewer graffiti, more assaults. A "decline" that hits harder is not a lull: it's a mutation.
It's also worth noting what the telegram admits without saying it: the "spike observed in March, linked to the deterioration of the situation in the Middle East." The French state acknowledges in black and white that France's Jews serve as the emotional adjustment variable for a conflict unfolding 3,000 kilometers away. Every tremor over there is paid for here — by schoolchildren, worshippers, identifiable passersby. That is the very definition of imported antisemitism — the kind a portion of public debate stubbornly insists on downplaying.
And this is where the telegram — a protective and necessary gesture, one that deserves credit, especially a week after the arrest of three men who were plotting a violent attack against the Jewish community — inadvertently reveals an anomaly that has become the norm. No other religious community in France sees its holidays announced by security circulars. The Hebrew calendar is the only one the Interior Ministry knows by heart. Rosh Hashanah, Kippur, Sukkot: all dates of "heightened vigilance."
So the real question for the year 5787 now beginning is not whether the synagogues will be protected — they will be. It is how long a democracy can consider it normal for Jewish prayer to require an escort. The day a minister no longer needs to send this telegram, France will have won. Until then, every telegram is both a shield and an admission of failure.