When Passion Turns Dangerous: A Crown Heights Wake-Up Call

A disturbing episode shook the Crown Heights community this past Thursday night, April 24, when a woman was violently attacked outside the Chabad-Lubavitch headquarters during a protest-filled visit by Israeli National Security Minister Itamar Ben-Gvir.

The woman, a local resident in her 30s, had stepped out after hearing police helicopters overhead. As she neared 770 Eastern Parkway, she covered her face with a scarf to avoid being recorded amidst the chaos. That action, however, led to her being misidentified by a group of men as a protester affiliated with the anti-Israel demonstrations nearby.

Footage from the scene shows the woman being surrounded and physically assaulted. Witnesses confirmed she was spat upon, shoved, kicked, and cursed at. But perhaps most damning of all: For over two minutes, a lone NYPD officer had to walk her through the crowd to safety — while the mob continued to jeer and threaten. Not one person stepped forward to protect her. We must be ashamed. This was not a moment of confusion; it was a failure of conscience.

The attack occurred amid heightened tensions as demonstrators from the anti-Zionist group “Within Our Lifetime” staged a protest outside the Lubavitch headquarters. Supporters of Minister Ben-Gvir gathered in response, resulting in a volatile confrontation. NYPD officers maintained a heavy presence throughout the evening.

Mayor Eric Adams condemned the violence, calling the assault “despicable” and pledging full accountability. The NYPD Hate Crimes Task Force is leading the investigation. As of publication, one arrest had been made and several summonses issued.

Rabbi Motti Seligson, a spokesperson for Chabad-Lubavitch, issued a clear statement: “This behavior is entirely unacceptable and in direct contradiction to Torah values. No cause, no protest, no ideology justifies what occurred.”

As I reflect on the images from that night, I cannot help but think of Meron. We saw what happened when a crowd lost control — the consequences were catastrophic. That tragedy was not born of hatred, and yet its wounds remain fresh. How much more painful when chaos is self-inflicted, when fury blinds judgment, and when innocent people are harmed. Our communities cannot afford to treat mob behavior as an unfortunate side effect of passion. It is not passion. It is collapse — of restraint, of dignity, of the very identity we are meant to uphold.

The events that unfolded in Crown Heights weren’t just frightening — they were a tragic distortion of what it means to stand for am Yisrael and Eretz Yisrael. In moments of tension, it is tempting to equate outrage with righteousness. But the Torah tells us otherwise. The Netziv, in his commentary on Parshat Pinchas, teaches that zeal without clear divine sanction is often nothing more than personal anger disguised as holy fervor. True kanaus, he writes, must be rooted in humility and pure lishmah; otherwise, it becomes a force of destruction, not sanctity.

What happened that night was not kanaus. It was chaos. And when passion overtakes principle, we risk turning a moment of defense into a chilul Hashem.

Further unrest followed days later, as anti-Israel demonstrators marched again through Crown Heights protesting the woman’s assault. The NYPD remained on high alert, and additional arrests were made.

This painful incident highlights a deeper concern. We are a people defined not only by Torah knowledge but by derech eretz. As Chazal teach, derech eretz kadmah laTorah — decency and self-restraint must precede true Torah greatness. Without that foundation, we lose more than just our moral standing; we lose the privilege of carrying Hashem’s name before the world.

Moreover, kol Yisrael areivim zeh bazeh — all Jews are responsible for one another. When even a few act without dignity, the shame and consequences ripple across the entire community. Our enemies do not distinguish. And neither, ultimately, does HaKadosh Baruch Hu.

As Shavuot approaches, the message could not be clearer. Torah is not merely what we study; it is the life we live — in public, in private, and in moments of pressure. Kabbalat HaTorah demands more than words — it demands actions that reflect the values we claim to uphold.

The dignity of Torah is measured not in shouting, but in self-control. Not in fury, but in seichel. True strength is found not when we react with anger, but when we rise with dignity — as loyal ambassadors of am HaTorah.

By Shabsie Saphirstein