חיפוש

Jerusalem Pride March Continues, but the Community's Gone

Jerusalem's 2025 Pride March unfolds quietly — in a city where LGBTQ life has nearly disappeared since Shira Banki’s murder
A memorial corner for Shira Banki at her Jerusalem school, showing a photo, peace signs, and handwritten student notes commemorating her 2015 murder
A memorial corner for Shira Banki at her school, 2015 Photo by Liadmalone • CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikipedia

This Thursday, June 5, Jerusalem will once again hold its annual Pride March — a tightly controlled event, shielded by thousands of police officers and fenced-in barriers, moving along a short stretch from Liberty Bell Park to Independence Park. But beneath the surface, something deeper has shifted: the celebration continues, but the community it claims to represent is quietly fading

A March Without a Community

The Pride March in Jerusalem has become a yearly tradition — but for many in the city, it no longer reflects a living LGBTQ presence. Gone are the bars, the gathering spots, the sense of visibility. What remains is a symbolic walk, limited in route and reach, conducted under intense security and without real support from city leadership. Jerusalem Deputy Mayor Aryeh King has repeatedly voiced opposition to LGBTQ initiatives, and community spaces have been quietly shuttered or defunded

The Jerusalem Open House for Pride and Tolerance continues to run educational and support activities in the city — and deserves credit for doing so. But at times, it feels like the brave child holding a finger in the dam — trying to stop a flood no one else sees

Ten Years After Shira Banki’s Murder — the Silence Remains

Shira Banki was just 16 years old when she was stabbed by Yishai Schlissel, a Haredi extremist who had previously served time for a similar attack. The assault occurred during the 2015 Jerusalem Pride March. Shira died three days later. Her death sent shockwaves through Israeli society and was supposed to mark a turning point in LGBTQ rights and safety. But a decade later, the city feels quieter — and emptier

In a modest corner of a Jerusalem school hallway, students maintain a small tribute to her. A smiling photo, handwritten notes, and a rainbow peace sign hang beside the words: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” In a way, that quiet memorial speaks louder than the march itself

Jerusalem's Pride March may continue each year, but it feels less like a living celebration — and more like a fading memory. The community is not marching anymore. It is moving away