Raisin company heir Bruce Lion arrested for terror threats after alleged antisemitic harassment of Pacific Palisades rabbi

Los Angeles police arrested Bruce Lion, the 64-year-old heir to a major California raisin company, after he allegedly waged a months-long campaign of antisemitic harassment against a rabbi and his congregation in Pacific Palisades, a campaign that culminated in terror threats serious enough to land Lion in jail on $50,000 bail.

The Los Angeles County Sheriff's Department confirmed Lion was charged with making terror threats. LAPD said officers responded to the area just before midnight Friday and took Lion into custody, the New York Post reported.

The arrest caps a disturbing pattern. Rabbi Zushe Cunin, who leads the Chabad of Pacific Palisades, told the Post that Lion's conduct began after Lion purchased the mansion next door to his chabad for $5.275 million in March. Since then, Cunin said, Lion interrupted worship services, screamed antisemitic and racist slurs in front of children, and repeatedly harassed members of the congregation from his balcony.

Videos and a profanity-laced tirade

The Post obtained several videos that it says show Lion harassing Cunin from the balcony of his Pacific Palisades mansion. In one recorded exchange, Lion directed a stream of profanity and antisemitic bile at the rabbi:

"I ain't going nowhere Jew boy, lose some f---ing weight. Go f---ing work. Do something for a change. Your fake f---ing gospel don't mean s---. You're f---ing done. You kill Jesus, you're going to f---ing hell. Do you understand?"

Cunin described the experience in stark terms.

"It was horrific. I've never experienced it, especially in front of kids. Little children. In this country, to have to see this kind of hatred and antisemitism is just unacceptable."

Lion also allegedly told Cunin, "Iran is coming to get you. You should move out." Cunin called those remarks "really crazy stuff."

The day before his arrest, the Post spoke to Lion at his mansion. Lion did not deny the hostility. He said he played Christian devotional music "loud as I can" to annoy his Jewish neighbors and explained his motive plainly: "I want them to know they're going to hell, and it makes me happy." He called his neighbors "gross pigs" and accused the chabad of "hiding bodies."

Lion also acknowledged a "run-in" with the rabbi, claiming it happened "because he was being belligerent." He then shifted blame to others at the chabad: "It's not him, he's a good guy. It's his guys that live with him."

A long record of criminal conduct

This was not Bruce Lion's first arrest. Not his second. Not even close. His criminal history stretches back years and spans multiple California counties.

In 2019, Lion served jail time after being convicted of making criminal threats and possessing a firearm despite a court order barring him from owning one. That case arose from a domestic violence restraining order violation. Authorities said he possessed a gun and made threats, a combination that should have set off every alarm in the system.

In 2023, Lion was arrested in Monterey County for allegedly throwing rocks at cars, blocking a highway with debris, and assaulting construction workers. He was booked on charges including assault, false imprisonment, vandalism, and assault with a deadly weapon other than a firearm. That same year, Fresno police arrested him again after he allegedly violated a domestic violence protective order at the home of his ex-wife. That arrest came just one day after officers responded to another domestic violence-related incident at the same address but did not take Lion into custody.

The Post reported it could not confirm the outcome of the 2023 cases. That gap matters. If charges were dropped or reduced, it would help explain how a man with this record ended up free to move into a $5.3 million mansion and terrorize a rabbi's family and congregation.

The broader question of whether the justice system adequately handles repeat offenders, especially those with histories of threats and domestic violence, connects to ongoing federal efforts to address domestic extremism and violent threats at every level.

The family business and a federal labor action

Lion is a scion of Lion Raisins, a Fresno County-based fruit company that touts "five generations of greatness" and "120 years of growing experience and expertise." The company employed an estimated 400 people and generated more than $71 million in revenue in 2024.

But the company's public image took a hit in January, when the Department of Labor named Bruce Lion while ordering Lion Raisins to pay back wages and penalties. The federal investigation determined the company neglected to transport workers in a safe vehicle following a deadly crash.

That action paints a picture of a man whose recklessness extends beyond his personal life. Workers died. The federal government stepped in. And yet Lion continued operating with apparent impunity, buying a multimillion-dollar home and, according to Cunin, immediately making life miserable for his neighbors.

Accountability failures of this kind are not unique to one agency or jurisdiction. Readers may recall recent controversies involving DHS officials that raised similar questions about whether the people entrusted with public safety are themselves held to any standard.

A community responds

City Councilwoman Traci Parks, whose district covers the Palisades, condemned Lion's alleged conduct in a statement:

"The hate and harassment directed at a rabbi and members of his congregation in Pacific Palisades is reprehensible and deeply disturbing. We appreciate LAPD taking these concerns seriously and acting swiftly to protect our community. Let me be clear: hate has no home in Pacific Palisades, in Council District 11, or anywhere in the City of Los Angeles."

Parks deserves credit for speaking clearly. But Cunin said he and others had repeatedly complained to police before the Friday arrest. The question that hangs over this case is why it took so long. A man with a documented history of criminal threats, firearms violations, domestic violence, and assault was allegedly screaming antisemitic slurs at children attending worship services, and it required months of complaints before anyone acted.

That delay fits a familiar pattern in California, where fights over law enforcement funding and priorities have left communities wondering whether the system is designed to protect them or to protect offenders from consequences.

What remains unanswered

Several questions remain open. The exact statutory charge filed against Lion has not been specified beyond "making terror threats." The outcome of his 2023 cases in Monterey County and Fresno is unconfirmed. Whether any protective orders were issued in connection with the Pacific Palisades incidents is unclear.

It is also unknown whether Lion's Friday night phone calls to Cunin, which the rabbi described as repeated middle-of-the-night calls followed by a profanity-laced tirade, constituted the specific conduct that triggered the terror threat charge, or whether the charge rests on other statements or actions.

What is clear is the pattern. Criminal threats in 2019. Jail time. Assault and weapons charges in 2023. Another domestic violence arrest in 2023. A federal labor action naming him personally in January. And now, terror threat charges after months of alleged antisemitic harassment directed at a rabbi, his congregation, and their children.

Cases like this test whether the system can protect ordinary people from those who repeatedly demonstrate they are willing to threaten and harm others. The same principle applies whether the threat comes from a suspect strapping explosives to hostages or a wealthy neighbor screaming slurs from a balcony.

Lion is now in custody on $50,000 bail. For Rabbi Cunin, his congregation, and the children who had to hear what no child should, the system finally moved. The question is whether it will follow through, or whether Bruce Lion will once again walk away and find someone new to terrorize.

A justice system that lets a man cycle through threat after threat, arrest after arrest, and still land in a $5 million mansion next to a synagogue has some explaining to do.