It’s not often that an organisation hits a milestone as significant as its 30th anniversary and barely notices. But the Community Security Trust (CST), which has been tirelessly protecting the UK’s Jewish community for three decades, is not making much of its birthday.
“We just keep doing the work we’ve always done,” says chief executive Mark Gardner, belying the magnitude of the task undertaken by his team.
The CST’s story began in 1994 when it evolved from the Community Security Organisation into its current charitable structure, guided by three weighty words: community, security and trust. These principles, says Gardner, are the north star for everything they do. “If we stick to our name and give people what they need, we can’t go wrong.”
Over the past 30 years, the CST has logged more than 30,000 reports of antisemitic incidents, hostile behaviour, and suspicious activity. It has grown into an operation with over 2,000 volunteers, 100 staff members, and a track record of safeguarding more than 10,000 Jewish events nationwide. Through its Security Enhancement Project, the charity has invested £19 million in bolstering physical security at Jewish buildings across the UK.
This work extends beyond bricks and mortar. Each year, full-time student security coordinators visit 70 university campuses, helping students to protect themselves and their peers. In their training courses, numbers have leapt from 40 people per course to an average of 150, while women’s self-defense courses have also grown.
The CST traces its roots back to the Jewish response to the Battle of Cable Street in 1936, when London’s East End blocked Oswald Mosley’s fascist Blackshirts. That defiance led to the formation of the 43 Group and later the 62 Group, anti-fascist organisations that inspired generations of Jewish activism.
By the 1970s, groups including the Jewish Aid Committee of Britain (Jacob), the Association of Jewish Ex-Servicemen and Women (Ajex), and others had begun working to formalise community defence. In 1986, the Community Security Organisation unified those efforts, paving the way for the CST as we know it today.
It remains firmly focused on the task at hand. Its national control centre operates 24/7, connecting more than 400 Jewish sites. “We’re as cross-communal as we can be,” Gardner explains, “and we try to provide equal service to every part of the Jewish community.”
Its challenges are increasingly digital; social media offers tools for reporting antisemitism and spreading it. Gardner describes it as “hatred in the palm of your hand,” with a psychological impact that’s difficult to overstate.
Their team works to monitor threats and their vigilance has led to numerous arrests and convictions. The threat of terrorism, Gardner notes, has shifted dramatically. “Where it used to be state-sponsored and operated in small cells, now it can be a Nazi-sympathising teenager in their bedroom. Our job is to find them before they act.”
One of the most profound changes Gardner has witnessed is the way antisemitism is now addressed openly. As a student in Scotland in the 1980s, he saw violent antisemitism on campus but recalls it being ignored by communal bodies and the media alike. “We didn’t even tell our parents, let alone the JC.” Now, he notes, "It would be deeply flawed to state that the Jewish establishment doesn’t care about antisemitism.”
Today, the CST’s work is regularly covered by communal and national newspapers, but Gardner is quick to point out that publicity is never the goal. “The best work is done behind closed doors,” he insists. “In a 24-hour media age, everyone’s scrambling for attention, but publicity can get in the way of the job.”
But the CST has reasons to celebrate. Its research has helped expose and exclude extremists from the UK, and its support was instrumental in high-profile legal battles, including Holocaust denier David Irving’s failed libel case against historian Deborah Lipstadt, and securing the convictions of far-right agitator Nick Griffin, as well as Islamist preacher Sheikh Abdullah el-Faisal.
After October 7, the CST saw a sharp rise in antisemitic incidents, reflecting the long-standing connection between events in the Middle East and Jewish safety in the diaspora.
For Gardner, this is a grim but familiar pattern, but he notes that anti-Israel demonstrations are less aggressive than in previous eras. “In the early 2000s, anti-Israel demonstrations were much more violent,” he says, though the risks remain significant. Gardner stresses the importance of balancing vigilance with calm. While he notes that people telling him they will move to Israel because of antisemitism is a troubling phenomenon, he takes a long view.
“It’s essential we don’t deal in fear-mongering. We need to be reliable and resolute. If people need a proper warning, we will give them one. But when people ask whether they should leave the country or hide their Jewishness, it’s not for us to tell them how to feel.”
While Gardner hopes that one day CST won’t need to do their important work, he is pragmatic about the challenges ahead: “Antisemitism is not going to disappear magically in our lifetimes. Our job is to keep the community as safe as possible, no matter the circumstances.”
As CST enters its fourth decade, Gardner remains as committed as ever, “We will continue our mission to protect the community. It’s community, security and trust that drive everything we do.” And for a community that continues to rely on the CST’s support, that’s certainly comforting to hear.