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Prize winners tour Canada

Filmmakers Aleeza Chanowitz, above, and Prague Benbenisty will be in Vancouver for the Sir Jack Lyons Charitable Trust Film Prize and to help the Jerusalem Foundation celebrate its 50th anniversary. (photo from Vancouver Jewish Film Centre)

Two up-and-coming Israeli filmmakers are bringing their films – and themselves – to Vancouver this month.

The Sir Jack Lyons Charitable Trust Film Prize event, being presented on May 16 at the Rothstein Theatre by the Jerusalem Foundation of Canada with the Vancouver Jewish Film Centre and Chutzpah!PLUS, will feature a screening retrospective and the 2016 winning films, followed by a question-and-answer period with the Jerusalem filmmakers, Aleeza Chanowitz (Mushkie) and Prague Benbenisty (Blessed).

The Lyons Prize is awarded annually to two students from Jerusalem film schools. There is a monetary component to the prize and the jury-selected students are also invited to present their films at the Israeli Film Festival in Montreal and other festivals in Canada. “By traveling to Canada and being introduced to established film industry professionals,” reads the prize material, “the award winners are given an important stepping stone in their creative and professional development.”

photo - Prague Benbenisty — Prague Benbenisty *(photo from Vancouver Jewish Film Centre)*

Chanowitz and Benbenisty have presented their films in Jerusalem, and Chanowitz’s Mushkie premièred at this year’s Berlin Film Festival. They started their time in Canada in Montreal, and also presented their work in Toronto. During their stay in Vancouver, the filmmakers will tour Emily Carr University’s 3-D film-capture and virtual reality projects, as well as visit studios.

“I’ve had a couple of face-to-face meetings, a ton of phone calls and emails with Nomi Yeshua since mid-November 2015,” said VJFC executive director Robert Albanese about planning the event. Yeshua, who grew up in Vancouver and made aliyah about 25 years ago, heads the Canada Desk of the Jerusalem Foundation. The May 16 event will also celebrate the foundation’s 50th anniversary.

“Nomi had the plan to bring the winning filmmakers to Canada and I was totally on board to make this happen,” said Albanese.

As for Chutzpah!PLUS, Mary-Louise Albert, who runs the annual Jewish performing arts festival, and Albanese have been running a cooperative series of films for the past two years, so she, too, was on board to co-present, he said.

“We’re looking forward to engaging the whole community, especially young adults,” said Albanese. There is no charge to attend the event. At the reception, Yeshua will make a brief introduction, and then attendees will move into the Rothstein.

“I’ll be making a selection of past year’s winning short films and screening those,” said Albanese, “then bringing up this year’s winners to the stage and, after some brief words, screening both of their films and bringing them back up to the stage for a talkback.”

Both Chanowitz and Benbenisty began their studies at the Sam Spiegel Film and Television School in 2012, and wrote and directed their respective films in their third year of study. Chanowitz, who was born in Brooklyn, made aliyah a couple of months after receiving her bachelor’s degree; Benbenisty was born in Tel Aviv. Their films are very different, in part because of their differing geographies.

Chanowitz’s Mushkie, which runs just over 12-and-a-half minutes, is a day (or two) in the life of two recent olim (immigrants) from the United States, best friends Mushkie and Sari. Chanowitz plays the title character, who is secretly exploring life outside of the boundaries of her religious upbringing, and gets into a little trouble while doing so. Chanowitz’s sense of humor shows not only in the film, but in the credits, where she thanks, among many others, her parents, who, she writes, “… I hope will continue to support me, but never see my work.” Given Mushkie’s sexual explicitness, the sentiment is understandable.

Benbenisty’s 15-minute Blessed offers viewers a glimpse into Sephardi – specifically Moroccan – culture in Israel. While in the biblical story, it is the younger Jacob who steals older brother Esau’s blessing from their father, in Blessed, it is the older, overlooked and unmarried sister, Zohara, who steals – at least initially – from her soon-to-be married younger sister the blessing that is given to all brides before their wedding day. The blessing gives Zohara the ability to see the love that has always been around her, and changes not only her relationship with her sister, but herself.

And there is more to this short film. In attempting to catch Zohara’s attentions, a shy but determined suitor recites to her a poem, “Zohra Al Fassiya,” by Erez Biton. Al Fassiya (1905-1994) was a well-known and popular Jewish Moroccan singer who, when she had to leave her home country, emigrated to Israel in 1962. She fell into anonymity and represents the negation of Sephardi culture by the Ashkenazi majority in Israel until recent years. That Blessed’s Zohara hears and is affected by this poem adds significant meaning to this short film.

The Sir Jack Lyons Charitable Trust Film Prize event starts at 7 p.m. on May 16 in the Zack Gallery.

Helping those at risk

Shai Lazer, chief executive officer of Youth Futures, an organization that aids Israel’s at-risk youth. (photo from Shai Lazer)

Earlier this year, Shai Lazer, chief executive officer of Youth Futures – a program supported by the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver’s annual campaign, among others – visited Vancouver.

A leader in the Israeli youth-outreach movement, Lazer describes himself modestly.

“I am 36 years old, married with three kids, living in Modiin,” he told the Independent. “My hobbies are reading, traveling around the country and sports. My military service was very meaningful, as was studying in university at the Mandel Institute.”

Lazer’s modesty is deceiving, as he presides over a national organization with outposts in 36 Israeli communities.

Youth Futures endeavors to help vulnerable children, their families and their communities cope with the painful and/or challenging aspects of their daily lives. Started in 2006, Youth Futures works with all demographics of Israeli society, including every manner of Jew, Arab, Bedouin and Druze. Working with more than 12,000 people throughout Israel, Youth Futures designates around 300 professional “mentors” to facilitate the majority of the organization’s outreach. Ultimately, Youth Futures’ mission is “to give every at-risk child in Israel’s geographic and social peripheries the confidence, opportunities and skills to realize their inherent potential.”

photo - Shai Lazer, right, with Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver chief executive officer Ezra Shanken — Shai Lazer, right, with Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver chief executive officer Ezra Shanken. *(photo from JFGV)*

But, as Lazer explained, the organization is continually expanding. On his mid-March visit to Vancouver, he spoke with his Canadian counterparts about the direction in which Youth Futures and similar organizations are heading.

“I was received incredibly well,” said Lazer. “I felt there was a real and honest dialogue about what’s currently happening in the field, future endeavors, and meaningful conversation in private and in groups. All in all, the main feeling was that of partnerships.”

Lazer is no stranger to partnerships. Under his direction, Youth Futures’ Kiryat Shmona branch currently benefits from Vancouver (22%), the Jewish Agency (35%), the Ministry of Education (38%) and the local municipality (5%) in partnerships and investment. The organization has grown dramatically since Lazer became director of the program in 2008, and even more since he became CEO. One of his achievements has been securing more government financial backing.

Lazer became a part of Youth Futures when he was in university.

“The program was just started while I was in the second year of my studies in Mandel Institute,” he said. “I was approached to join the staff. I remember thinking that it was an interesting educational concept, and was drawn to the newness – the opportunity to create something new and redefining our approach to helping at-risk children.”

Youth Futures uniquely uses the model of having a mentor reach out to the youth and families in their national outposts. Lazer believes that the idea of the mentor is the key to the success of the organization.

“I define a professional mentor by their ability to learn,” he said. “To be able to stop, have some personal reflection and increase their learning curve – that and passion. Youth Futures chooses this model because it’s the only thing that works.”

Youth Futures has the statistics to show its effectiveness. For example, 78% of the youth showed increased self-confidence and ability to cope and 74% showed improved social skills; its alumni have a negligible school drop-out rate and 84% of them have shown the higher motivation required to qualify for more elite army units or to perform civil service. Lazer maintains that such positive numbers are directly because of Youth Futures’ role in these children’s lives.

“I think it’s because someone believed in them,” he said. “When someone believes in you, your confidence grows and you want to become part of the community. It gives you a sense of responsibility over the world you live in.”

Lazer is adamant that his organization’s model could be used in other countries to help at-risk children and the families and societies that surround them. And Youth Futures is actively looking to expand into North America.

Building on his organization’s momentum, and the foundation of 10 years of solid community outreach, Lazer believes the next decade for Youth Futures will be busy and successful.

“Ten years from now, Youth Futures is still here, constantly expanding to more communities and to new populations – early childhood and high school,” he predicted. “We’re currently in the midst of planning the celebrations of 10 years of Youth Futures and launching the next decade. We’re working on a ‘journey book,’ which will include interviews and showcase all different localities, a film, a big national event to celebrate with our participants and their families, a professional seminar, a reception to be held at the General Assembly of the Jewish Federations of North America in November, and many more. We’re also launching two new initiatives, expanding into intervention with early childhood parents, as well as starting an organization to help our alumni. It’s an exciting time and we’re looking forward to many new things coming our way.”

Jonathan Dick is a freelance writer living in Toronto. His writing has appeared in the Canadian Jewish News, and various other publications in Canada and the United States.

Making your own cheeses

Once a full-time organic farmer, David Asher offers workshops through his Black Sheep School of Cheesemaking. He has also recently published his own book, The Art of Natural Cheesemaking. (photo by Kelly Brown)

Have you ever wanted your own cheese cave? If not, David Asher might convince you to crave one.

Based on British Columbia’s Gulf Islands, the former full-time organic farmer is the author of the recently published The Art of Natural Cheesemaking: Using Traditional, Non-Industrial Methods and Raw Ingredients to Make the World’s Best Cheeses (Chelsea Green). His book covers all the details one needs to know to make a variety of cheeses at home – and, yes, creating a “cave” to age it. Step-by-step recipes include paneer, cheddar, feta, blue cheeses, gouda, and about a dozen others.

“It’s as easy to make cheese at home as it is to make good bread at home,” he said.

For the past seven years, Asher has been offering workshops through his Black Sheep School of Cheesemaking to teach others the “lost” art of creating their own natural cheeses without unnecessary additives. But he wasn’t always a cheese fan – in fact, for most of his life, just the opposite.

“We weren’t a cheese-eating family. We only ate that stack of kosher cheese slices stuck together without plastic wrapping in a slab. I suffered through really terrible cheese as a child,” he said.

Like his favorite food, though, his taste has ripened with age.

As a young boy, he was introduced to “Italian immigrants’ guerrilla gardens” by Montreal’s railroad tracks, where he would relish plucking carrots and harvesting kale. Eventually, he created his own garden and, by his 20s, he was volunteering at community farms.

It was during an organic farming apprenticeship, traveling around visiting other farms, that he met a home cheesemaker, who was “making some inspiring rounds of moldy goat’s cheese” in her home with milk from her very own goats.

“She made this alchemy happen,” he said. “To make this beautiful cheese … without any specialized tools or equipment, I thought, ‘I can do this.’”

On a mission, Asher consulted the go-to cheesemaking guidebooks to find out how to start creating, but he was not inspired by the recipes or by the techniques suggested. Part of the problem, he said, was that the recipes called for freeze-dried packaged cultures.

“I didn’t want to have to purchase these culture starter packages to make my cheese, because I knew that traditional cheesemakers didn’t use these,” he said. “I knew there had to be a better way, but there weren’t really any resources.… There were no references as to how traditional cheesemakers grew their white rinds, their camembert, almost as if that information had been lost.” Truly, he was “feta” up with the lack of “gouda” details.

Through trial and error, he explored and learned natural methods used long ago, for want of a mentor. And then, much like a wheel of provolone, things came full circle.

“After years of experimenting, I felt confident with my techniques. I then decided that I’d write a book,” he said, adding that it also serves as a resource for his students.

Asked if he thought any decent commercially made cheese can be found in mainstream supermarkets, he responded with a deep sigh. “You don’t want me to answer that,” he said. “Call me when you’re ready to make your own.”

For those wanting to make their own, there are three cheesemaking seminars this month: with the Clever Crow Sea Salt Co. in Black Creek May 7-8, with Linnaea Farm on Cortes Island May 14-15 and in Chilliwack at the Valley Permaculture Guild on May 28-29. For more information, visit theblacksheepschool.com.

Dave Gordon is a Toronto-based freelance writer whose work has appeared in more than a hundred publications around the world. He is the managing editor of landmarkreport.com.

EcoPeace crosses borders

EcoPeace Middle East is an Israeli-Jordanian-Palestinian organization dedicated to environmental peace building, primarily through water diplomacy. (photo from EcoPeace Middle East)

EcoPeace was created by Gidon Bromberg some 22 years ago after he made the connection between ecology and the lack of cooperation between the region’s various authorities regarding water issues.

At the time, he was studying for a master’s in environmental law in Washington, D.C. When he returned to Israel, he organized the very first gathering of Israeli, Palestinian, Jordanian and Egyptian environmentalists. On the second day of the meeting, in December 1994, an agreement was struck to create EcoPeace Middle East.

Bromberg has been working together with Jordanian Munqeth Mehyar since then and Palestinian Nader Khateeb since 2001 to create an Israeli-Jordanian-Palestinian organization dedicated to environmental peace building, primarily through water diplomacy, and to the advancement – through both top-down advocacy and community-led grassroots work – of cross-border cooperation concerning shared water resources, pollution issues and sustainable development issues. Half of their programming is bottom-up community work through the Good Water Neighbors (GWN) project, now into its 15th year of operation.

“The second half of our work is advocacy aimed at influencing the Israeli, Palestinian and Jordanian governments, as well as at garnering support from the international community in advancing dialogue and cooperation between them,” Bromberg told the Independent.

photo - The three co-directors of EcoPeace Middle East at the Jordan River. From left to right: Gidon Bromberg (Israel), Munqeth Mehyar (Jordan) and Nader Khateeb (Palestine) — The three co-directors of EcoPeace Middle East at the Jordan River. From left to right: Gidon Bromberg (Israel), Munqeth Mehyar (Jordan) and Nader Khateeb (Palestine). *(photo from EcoPeace via commons.wikimedia.org)*

The underlying assumption behind their efforts on all fronts is that regional cooperation is in each party’s best self-interest. “As altruism is not a common feature of foreign policy, particularly not in the midst of conflict, speaking to the self-interest of each side enables us to create political will for cooperation that ultimately serves the region as a whole,” said Bromberg.

Over the years, EcoPeace’s major areas of work have been focused on the rehabilitation of the Jordan River; a regional plan for sustainable development in the Jordan Valley; water and the peace process; Gaza’s water, sanitation and energy crisis; the water-energy nexus in the region; and the Red Sea-Dead Sea conduit.

Since its establishment, EcoPeace Middle East has seen many periods of extreme hostility and bloodshed in the region but, in the midst of that, has been able to make headway.

“Joint work of Israelis, Palestinians and Jordanians through EcoPeace’s programs has brought the leveraging of more than half a billion U.S. dollars in recent years for water supply and sanitation solutions in the GWN communities, all with a strong cross-border effect, i.e. removal of sewage from shared resources,” said Bromberg. “EcoPeace has also been able to convene Israeli, Palestinian and Jordanian government representatives together and generate dialogue between them around issues such as the Jordan River, at a time when no such meetings were taking place.”

At the community level, EcoPeace holds many cross-border youth gatherings every year, wherein kids not only learn about the interdependency of their and their neighbors’ water reality, but also about each other, in an effort to break down negative stereotypes.

One of the biggest achievements of EcoPeace in terms of bringing together people from the three countries has been the facilitation of relations between Jordan Valley mayors, who have rallied together to demand joint governmental cooperation toward rehabilitating the river.

“As far as positive ripple effects, very much due to our work, there is a growing realization amongst the various stakeholders, including decision makers, that regional sustainable development is crucial for geopolitical stability and for security in the region, for economic growth, public health and other aspects of life in the region,” said Bromberg.

EcoPeace’s notion of water as a political game changer in the region, for example, is slowly but surely becoming a part of the political discourse.

“The Jordan River is a good example of persistence that has recently started to pay off,” said Bromberg. “Ten years ago, when we were trying to convince the Israeli Water Authority (IWA) to release fresh water from the Sea of Galilee to the Jordan River, something which had then not happened for almost 60 years, one of the seniors raised his palm and said, ‘Gidon, when hair grows on this palm, that’s when fresh water will flow again from the Sea of Galilee to the Jordan River.’”

Nonetheless, by mid-2013, following years of advocacy by EcoPeace and others, the IWA released nine million cubic metres (mcm) of water into the river, committing to raise this volume to 30 mcm in the near future. This is only a drop in the bucket, however. Based on research commissioned for the project, the estimate is that 400 mcm overall is required to rehabilitate the river – and not all from the Sea of Galilee, which is in Israeli territory, but also from Jordan and Syria.

This is a very important first step, said Bromberg, who is certain of EcoPeace’s ability, with the help of many partners, to convince the relevant decision makers to allow for more significant volumes of water to flow into the river.

“Times now are particularly difficult in our region,” he said. “Hostility between Israelis and Palestinians has reached a whole new level, a frightening environment that, for the most part, does not react well to cooperation.”

Bromberg believes that, through providing youth in each of their communities with opportunities and cooperation with their neighbors, even this complex environment can be overcome.

For more information, visit foeme.org or facebook.com/ecopeacemiddleeast.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

A future he never imagined

Sam Rozencwajg (photo by Drew Tapley)

Last year marked the 70th anniversary of the end of the Second World War. In a decade from now, there will be virtually no one alive with a living memory of this time in history.

Sam Rozencwajg not only lived through this time, but through the worst of it – being captured and imprisoned in various Nazi concentration camps of central Europe, including Auschwitz.

Rozencwajg, who lives in a long-term care community in Toronto, immigrated to Canada in 1952 and is very clear about what “The True North strong and free!” means to him.

“Canada is the best country in the world, where a Jew can live free and be respected,” he said, wearing a baseball hat with a red maple leaf on it.

The youngest of six siblings, Sam was born in Lodz, Poland, in 1926. He was 14 years old when German soldiers invaded his city in 1940, and his memory of the day he was taken from his home is vivid.

“When the Germans came, they put all the Jewish people in a ghetto. They didn’t tell us anything. We didn’t know where we were going. They just counted and counted us. I remember how my heart was pounding from being scared. Every Jew was scared.

“They called out to everyone to open their doors because they didn’t want to smash them in.”

One day, everyone in the ghetto was told to gather in a central location.

“They made us a lot of soup, with potatoes in it. Back then, potatoes were like diamonds because they were very hard to get. We were allowed to eat as much as we wanted because the Germans needed us to be quiet and satisfied so they wouldn’t have to fight us.

“When we were fed, they put us on trucks, which went straight to the train station. On each door of the train was a German soldier. We didn’t know where we were going.”

Sam was on the train by himself. The rest of his family was either in different carriages or different trains; and his parents were the first to be taken away.

“They took my mother and father in a truck, and I never saw them again. After the war, I looked for them, but I knew they didn’t survive.”

Sam’s twin sisters were separated. “Which probably saved their lives,” he said, “as they would likely have had medical experiments done on them.”

Both sisters survived the camps, and Sam was able to briefly see one of his three brothers again. But the reunion was bittersweet.

“I saw my oldest brother in Auschwitz, and he had a rash all over his face. I asked him what had happened, and he didn’t know what to tell me. I know he went to the gas chamber after that.”

Sam was transferred to different camps during the war. He doesn’t remember the names, but remembers them by their numbers – especially Dachau, which was divided into a series of smaller work camps with the explicit purpose of forced labor, brutality and systematic medical experiments. More than 30,000 people died there, and thousands were sick or dying when the camp was liberated in 1945.

“They didn’t know what to do with us. We were marched every day to do labor, two hours each way. The German soldiers were dressed in warm, thick coats and hats. The Jews were dressed in thin cotton pants and shirts with wooden clogs not meant for marching in.

“They made us do work just to punish us: digging holes, throwing in bodies. My father and mother could have been among the bodies. It was miserable to do those things.

“If one of the prisoners fainted, we had to carry them. They would count us out and back again to make sure no one escaped. If you managed to get away, the guards would contact the police and they would find you. It was obvious from our clothes that we came from a camp.”

During the winter, as he walked through snow and ice, the back of his clogs broke off and he came close to losing a foot to frostbite when his heel froze.

“There was a German civilian at the side of the road. I asked him, ‘Can I rest here? Look at my feet, I cannot walk.’ I spoke a little German, and showed him my foot, which was blue. He couldn’t believe it. A guard told me to move on, but the man insisted I be allowed to rest. He was a nice man. I’m not saying all the Germans were bad. Not all of them were Nazis.”

Sam said, “The buildings in the camp were built so that the Allies couldn’t see them from above. The one I was in was like a bunker with a green roof. There were maybe 20 or 25 people in one room, and I slept on wood and straw, with lice biting my body throughout the night.

“You could never speak to the guards…. Because I could understand German, I heard the words they sang about us as they marched. They hated Jewish people. They called us ‘Dirty Jew,’ but didn’t give us the facilities to wash. I remember one day I passed by a shower building and someone told me, ‘Do not be lured in there. They will tell you that you can have a shower, but instead of water they put gas.’”

Sam said that, while millions of Jews and other prisoners died in Nazi gas chambers, most of the prisoners in the camps he was held at died of either starvation or forced labor.

“We were so hungry and thought of food constantly,” he said. “I remember a little boy crying to the Germans, asking them to kill him. He couldn’t suffer anymore, and wanted them to take his life. But I was determined to stay alive and, to this day, I honestly don’t know how I did. You lived minute to minute.”

Sam was so delirious and emaciated by the time his camp was liberated that he retells it like something out of a dream.

“I woke up one day in a real bed with a white bed sheet and pillowcase. I couldn’t believe it.

Three blurred figures stood over me examining my body. Bright lights came from their bodies. I thought I had died and was in heaven.”

It was 1945, and these blurred figures were American soldiers with light reflecting off the buttons on their uniforms.

“I didn’t know that they were American at the time,” said Sam. “I had no knowledge of anything. They asked me, ‘Who did this to you?’ I was just skin and bone. Not a piece of flesh was on my body. I cannot imagine how I survived, and praise God day and night that I could live and build my own family.”

Sam was taken to a liberation camp, but was so sick that he couldn’t walk or digest food.

“I was given real food, but the next day, I had chronic diarrhea. My stomach couldn’t take good food. It happened to all of us like this.”

He soon discovered that his freedom meant there was no going back to the city and the home he once knew.

“We had no homes to go back to because Polish gentiles now occupied them. A nephew of mine went back to Poland, and I asked him to go to the house I used to live in. They had changed the locks and wouldn’t open the door to him. At the time, there was a program where you could go to a lawyer and make a claim to get your home back.”

After Sam gained more strength and weight, he was given passage to Karlstad, Sweden, with the Red Cross, where he lived with a family and was given a job pressing wedding gowns in a factory. He had mastered several languages at this point, which came in useful.

“They treated me like a son,” he said, referring to his adopted family in Sweden. “My wife worked across from me in that factory. I couldn’t stop looking at her, and thought to myself that I must take her out. We went dancing, and soon fell in love.”

Sam’s wife was from Hungary and came from a family of rabbis. They got married in Stockholm, and lived in Sweden for seven years before coming to Canada.

Like his imprisonment, liberation and evacuation to Sweden, the decision to immigrate to Canada was also something that came about suddenly when he found one of his sisters again in the street.

“We found each other, just like that; each thinking the other was dead. She was getting married and moving to Israel (then Palestine) with her new husband. At that time, Israel was calling out to the Jewish people to go and build it as a Jewish land.”

It was then that he discovered his other sister had settled in Canada, where there was a Jewish committee set up to welcome displaced Jews to work as tailors and seamstresses. He got in touch with her, and she arranged for him to come over by boat with his wife and son.

“I was glad to get out of Europe,” he said.

Sam worked in a clothing factory in downtown Toronto until he retired. He had two more sons, and has seven grandchildren.

“Lots of people came out of those camps in really poor health, and I developed a congestive heart condition that I’ve had to live with for the rest of my life,” he said. “The American authorities forced Germany to pay Jewish people restitution, and I still receive a monthly payment that goes a long way to paying for my expenses.”

Despite the hardships he endured, Sam maintains a positive outlook.

“You have to get used to this world to enjoy life,” he said. “I survived because my will was to survive. I didn’t think I would get married and have children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and I praise God for this. I have learned that every minute can change your life…. It is very important to me to explain my story. I’m not ashamed of it. Let Hitler be ashamed of it.”

Drew Tapley is a Toronto-based journalist.

A London lesson

Britain’s Labor Party is going through a crisis as successive low-level and, more recently, senior members of the party express antisemitic attitudes.

Ken Livingstone, the former mayor of London and a Laborite familiarly known as “Red Ken,” told television audiences last week that Hitler was a Zionist, repeating a common and despicable theory usually limited to musty corners of the internet, implying that the Holocaust was all a ploy to engender sympathy that would lead to the creation of the state of Israel. Livingstone apologized if people had taken offence to his words but did not apologize for what he said.

Around the same time as Livingstone – a stalwart of the party’s left for decades – was getting in hot water, so was Naz Shah, a party rising star. The MP accused Israel of behaving like Nazis and suggested that Israel be relocated to the United States, an explicit call for the ethnic cleansing of Jews from the last refuge of the Middle East where they have not yet been eliminated.

The conflict broke into the open, at least in the international media, in February, when one of the co-chairs of the Labor club at Oxford University resigned, declaring that a large proportion of club members have “some kind of problem with Jews.”

Jeremy Corbyn, the Labor Party leader whose own record of allegiances leans more toward Hamas and Hezbollah than it does toward democratic, Jewish Israel, has called an inquiry into antisemitism in his party. Yet, this did not stop one of Corbyn’s shadow cabinet members and closest allies from dismissing allegations that the Labor Party has a problem with Jews as a “smear.” And some have declared the condemnations of antisemitism in the party a “new McCarthyism.”

While all of this sounds like bad news – and it’s hard to argue that the presence of antisemitism in one of the Western world’s major political parties is anything but – there is a silver lining.

The fact is that ideas like these have been percolating on the left and elsewhere for years. They are expressed daily in certain forums on the internet and pop up in private conversation even among people who are respected and trusted on other topics.

In recent years, we have seen individual eruptions of outlandish accusations against Israel – indeed, “apartheid,” “genocide” and accusations of Nazism and the perpetration of a holocaust are accusations thrown routinely at the tiny outpost of democracy. That antisemitic outbursts in Britain’s Labor Party have reached a critical mass that could no longer be dismissed as the unrelated rantings of misguided individuals has led to a much-needed confrontation over the topic. Now, the party must confront and address the problems in its ranks.

From a Canadian perspective, this has particular interest, because our New Democratic Party, in some ways a child of the British parent party, is entering into a period of reflection and reinvention. Its last two leaders, the late Jack Layton and the recently defenestrated Thomas Mulcair, tried to eradicate from their party not-uncommon expressions of anti-Zionism that sometimes relied on anti-Jewish prejudice as an accelerant. The spectacular failure of the Mulcair-led NDP in the last election is leading some to say that a turn to the more extreme left is, if not an electorally advantageous move, at least an ideologically pure way forward. Such recidivism would almost certainly involve some rehabilitation of old anti-Israel fixations.

Yet, it is always better to shine light under these rocks than to allow these ideas to mutate. In Britain right now, we are seeing the predictable illogical extremes to which unchecked anti-Zionism can lead. It will be informative to watch the public discussion that transpires. Though differences are vast, the political cultures of Canada and Britain still have some strong parallels. Perhaps, if Britain confronts in this matter now, Canada will not need to later.

Talking about Israel as a family

Sixty-eight years ago, when Israel was born and became the state of the Jewish people, a family was created. As with any other family that has a complex history, there is love and arguing, support and fallings out in the Israel mishpacha. To make things trickier, Israel is what we would call a blended family, whose members come from wildly varying geopolitical, socio-cultural, ethnic, religious and linguistic backgrounds.

This variety makes for a richness you would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere – the intensity and vigor of which those visiting or missing Israel so often speak. However, the blended Israeli family is fraught with tensions brought about by both the baggage each member has and the difficult neighborhood in which they live. Because Israel is the only Jewish state in the world – our only “family home” – each discussion about it feels of utmost consequence, even to Israel’s extended family of Diaspora Jews, who feel strongly about their connection to that familial home and the relatives living in it.

Not long ago, the announcement that singer Achinoam Nini (Noa) had been invited to perform at our community’s Yom Ha’atzmaut celebration on May 11 set in motion a heated debate about where we draw our red lines when it comes to criticizing Israel. The Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver made a decision to welcome Noa despite the objections of individuals who disagree with the artist’s political views, and Ezra Shanken, JFGV’s chief executive officer, expressed his hope that our community would continue the Jewish tradition of welcoming diversity of opinion and embracing respectful debate. As we celebrate Israel’s 68th birthday, I think it would be worthwhile to take a look at how our blended family handles conflict and disagreements when they arise from within, and do a little cheshbon nefesh, soul searching, about how we each might be contributing both to the family’s well-being, as well as to internal friction and divisiveness.

With Israel, we so often focus on the external conflicts, sometimes at the expense of looking at what is happening in our own backyard, and this is something we cannot afford to do any longer. For our blended family to thrive and prosper, it is not enough anymore to stand united against enemies. The strength of a tight-knit family depends less on the extent to which its members agree on every issue, and more on how they communicate their disagreements and live with differing points of view under one roof. We all share a moral obligation to set an example for the children and youth in our community, and show them that the Israeli family of which they are a part is strong and confident enough to welcome and even encourage different opinions and points of view.

So, how do we have disagreements and important discussions without engaging in the kind of destructive behavior and accusations that tear at our familial fabric? Is it possible to have difficult conversations from a place of mutual respect, even when we don’t see eye to eye? I speak from experience when I say that, while not easy, it is, in fact, possible. I have friends from across the political, national and religious spectrums, and I cherish the ongoing, sometimes challenging, conversations I have with them about Israel. With those conversations in mind, I would like to offer a few points to consider and some basic strategies I have found helpful when discussing Israel.

We have something important in common. Whenever you engage in a discussion with a fellow member of the tribe who holds different opinions about Israel than you do, remember that you wouldn’t be having that difficult conversation if it weren’t for the fact that you both care enough about Israel to take the time and argue. If you are not sure this is the case, ask the person a simple question: Do you care about Israel? If they answer yes, then, as surprising as it may sound, you have some common ground – a starting point for a respectful exchange of ideas. It is not always comfortable to accept that someone who holds a political view we disagree with comes, as we do, from a place of caring about Israel. But that is a discomfort we should learn to lean into and work with if we want to help foster within our community the democratic value of free speech – the same value that sets Israel apart from other countries in the Middle East.

Respond rather than react. Yes, there is a difference between the two. When we react, we re-act specific lines, roles and dialogues, just as a well-rehearsed actor in a long-running play would do. Unsurprisingly, reaction-based discussions usually feel like rather irritating déjà vus. When we respond, we do so from a sense of responsibility (response-ability): we know that we are not merely actors with memorized lines, and that we have the freedom to improvise, to choose to keep an open mind in those conversations where our default mode is to be judgmental, get defensive or go on the offensive.

Next time someone says something about Israel that makes you want to yell at them, “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” or “How can you say something like that?!” ask instead “Can you tell me more about what you just said?” It won’t feel natural at first because improv moves us out of our comfort zone. Nevertheless, try it. Be curious. We all have a human need to be heard and we all know how unpleasant it feels when our words are ignored or dismissed. Really hearing someone out is a beautiful, positive way to practise what Rabbi Hillel believed to be the essence of the Torah: what is hateful to you, do not do unto your neighbor.

Respect the importance of our personal histories. So much of who we are, what and how we think and how we feel about any given issue is a result of our personal history. When and where we were born and raised, our family’s past, our religious background, the influential people and key experiences in our lives – all of these and more also contribute to how we relate to Israel. If we understand that each one of us has such a personal history that affects our worldviews and that these histories differ from person to person, we move a step closer to accepting that it is inevitable for a variety of opinions about Israel to exist within our community. Once we accept this truth, we can choose to find it in ourselves to treat with respect even those with whose opinions we disagree.

In Hebrew, the words kavod (respect), kibud (honoring/acknowledging) and koved (weight/difficulty) all stem from the same root. Truly respecting “the other” and acknowledging from where they come and their right to hold different opinions to ours can, indeed, feel difficult and burdensome at times. Yet, if we want to help create a strong community that honors the histories and diversity of all its members, we should view this effort to respect the other as a blessed weight that we choose to carry, like that of an unborn child.

If you are a regular reader of the Jewish Independent, it is safe to assume that you, too, care about Israel. As we celebrate Israel’s birthday this year, I invite you to envision the kind of legacy or family heirloom we want to leave for the next generations in our community. In my mind, I see a vibrant, warm, colorful, imperfect and unique patchwork quilt to which each of us can add a symbolic piece of ourselves as the dialogue about our beloved Israel continues to unfold. What is your vision? And what are you willing to do to make it a reality?

Pirkei Avot (Ethics of Our Fathers) teaches us that “it is not upon us to complete the work, but that neither are we free to desist from it.” Our work as fellow members of the extended and blended Israeli family is to do tikkun olam (repair of the world). And tikkun olam begins with us, at home and in our community. So, in our conversations about Israel, let us all commit to being a bit more curious and a little less judgmental. Let’s treat one another with kavod and remember that the strength of our family is directly proportionate to our ability to be kind to one another.

Yael Heffer is an educator who has been working with children and families in the Vancouver Jewish community for close to 10 years. She is currently completing her master’s in child and youth care, is involved in social emotional learning research and is training as a clinical counselor. She grew up in South America, Germany and Israel and is a strong advocate of nonviolent communication.

Increasing organ donations

Leading up to the provincial election in Manitoba in April, activists, family members of organ recipients and those waiting for organs pushed the topic of organ donation as an election issue. They reached out to many prominent people to help them spread their message, including Prof. Arthur Schafer, founding director of the Centre for Professional and Applied Ethics at the University of Manitoba.

The centre’s purpose is to promote research specifically in applied ethics across different professions, such as medicine, engineering, pharmacy and nursing. Schafer further described it as “ethics as it applies to controversial, moral, social and political issues in society.”

Organ donation, while supported by most segments of the population, has been an issue with which many countries struggle. As there is most often a gap between supply and demand, some countries are coming up with new ways to tackle the problem.

photo - Prof. Arthur Schafer — University of Manitoba’s Prof. Arthur Schafer. *(photo from Arthur Schafer)*

“Israel used to have just about the lowest organ donation rate of all the Western countries,” said Schafer. “So, historically, and rather embarrassingly, more people died waiting for an organ donation in Israel than anywhere else.”

According to Schafer, the lack stemmed from the common misconception that Jewish law prohibits organ donation.

“But, the very low donation rate in Israel changed after a new law was passed in 2008,” he said. “The new law gave priority [to certain people]. It was still true, after the new law was passed, that medical need was the most important criteria. Someone faced with imminent death would have priority over someone whose need was less urgent but, when patients had comparable need, the 2008 law gave priority to those who’d signed an organ donor card or whose family had donated an organ.”

The policy was nicknamed, “Don’t Give. Don’t Get.” Schafer said what this meant was that, if someone, for religious or other reasons, would not sign an organ donor card, they might end up dying themselves as a result of having a lower priority on the list of waiting patients.

“I suppose it’s the dual moral justification … first of all, a principle of justice or fairness,” said Schafer. “If you aren’t willing to give, you don’t deserve, you could argue, it’s not fair for you to take when you’re not willing to donate.

“Then, there’s also the principle of maximizing benefit, because this law seems to have resulted in saving many lives – which, according to Jewish law, is supposed to be of the highest priority. Jewish law says that saving a life is more important than anything else. Yet, many Orthodox Jews refuse to sign an organ donor card.”

Schafer said that, while the supply gap in Israel is still significant, it has narrowed dramatically since the passage of this new law.

Meanwhile, in Canada and its provinces, there is no priority given at present to those who sign an organ donor card.

As for the current local situation, the Province of Manitoba has passed a law – called Required Consideration – that requires physicians to consider whether someone dying or near death is a suitable candidate for organ donation, and to ask them or the family about donating.

Other provinces, like Ontario and British Columbia, have taken it a step further, passing a law known as Required Request. Doctors must discuss organ donation with dying patients. In both of these provinces, doctors can take themselves out of the process by alerting an organ donation coordinator to the situation.

“Many physicians are quite squeamish about the topic, by the way, especially when a younger person has died tragically in a car accident,” said Schafer. “Their organs might be a potential source of numerous healthy organs that could save lives but doctors feel, due to the severe family grief resulting from the death of a young person, that they don’t want to add to the burden by asking for an organ donation. That’s a fairly understandable reaction. But, I think it’s profoundly wrong. I think that, if your child has died in an accident or suffered from an untimely death, the family might welcome the opportunity to make something morally significant by agreeing to have other lives saved through organ donation. I think many people actually feel this way and that doctors who are reluctant to ask the families about it are depriving them of an opportunity.”

Schafer went on to say that, in many provinces, there is a big push to change the system of organ donation so that it would be a choice of opting out as opposed to one of opting in. The current situation is that, if you do not tick the box or tell your family you want to donate, your organs will not be harvested. Schafer contends that reversing the onus is a good option, as it still gives individuals a choice, but they have to choose not to do it rather than to do it.

“Many European countries have adopted opting-out systems, such as Spain,” he said. “Their donation rates have gone up considerably.”

Another option Schafer suggested is to tweak the compensation system for doctors, giving them further incentive to talk to people about organ donation when there is not the option of referring the matter to an organ coordinator.

“Many people die in community hospitals, nursing homes or in their own homes,” he said. “The family doctor, rural doctor or community hospital doctors are often unwilling to take the time filling out the forms to arrange for organ donation. I think the medical profession itself has been a big impediment to an increase in cadaveric organ donation.

“If you’re in a teaching hospital where transplant operations are occurring, you’re more likely to approach the family or individual and arrange organ donation,” he continued. “If you’re in a community hospital, it takes time. You have to fill out forms, you have to speak to people, and you’re not reimbursed. I think part of the solution to the dramatic gap between the supply and demand for organs requires a change in the medical profession itself or making it a requirement for doctors.”

The possible downside to a change in the compensation system for doctors, however, is to ensure that they still do all they can to save a patient.

For information on becoming an organ donor in British Columbia, visit transplant.bc.ca/be-donor.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

A complex cultural mosaic

Think you know everything about Israel? Looking for an extraordinarily special book to give to someone who has been to Israel or is interested in the unusual aspects of the country that rarely, if ever, get press coverage? The answer to both of those questions is Unexpected Israel: Stories You Never Read in the Media (Gefen Publishing House, 2016) by Ruth Corman.

Corman is a British photojournalist and art consultant who splits her time between London and Jerusalem. Her first publication was with photographer David Rubinger, and his book Israel Through My Lens: Sixty Years as a Photojournalist, which she co-authored and edited.

book cover - Unexpected Israel With her latest book, with 84 vignettes, she writes, “I decided to try a side of Israel that rarely receives attention – the creative, amusing, quirky and moving aspects of the country.” She used the services of Alon Galili, a guide, and John Harlow, a consultant. Many of her tales have appeared in the Jerusalem Post. Her husband, Charles Corman, was the book’s editor.

Writes Corman on the publisher’s website, “Four years ago, I embarked on an expedition through the complex cultural mosaic that is Israel to introduce readers to aspects of the country that never appear in the media…. I was introduced to places that few know about, fossilized trees in the Negev dating back 120 million years and a leopard shrine from a mere 10,000 years ago. I marveled at magnificent pure white chalk hills near the Egyptian border and discovered sculptural rock forms near Timna, the remains of copper mining. I was delighted by a derelict Mandate-era spa by the Dead Sea where hand-painted murals depicting regional topography adorn the walls, and fascinated by the history of perfume production at Ein Gedi and the efforts to recreate the scent that so captivated our ancestors.”

Corman also “encountered some unforgettable individuals.” Her entries begin with Tsegue-Mariam, a 93-year-old Ethiopian nun who has written original music and plays the piano. It ends with “A Happy Ending: Rescue in the Skies,” the story of a young child who was on an El Al flight with her. The child was heading to London to undergo a liver transplant, and Corman helped raise from the passengers the money the girl needed. Corman did not keep in touch with the child, who must be over 30 by now.

In between are stories about typical and atypical Israeli aspects – the camel, falafel, floor cleaning (sponga), garinim (sunflower seeds), folk dancing, Machaneh Yehudah (where this author leads weekly walks in English), sabras (the fruit), standing in line, sheshbesh (backgammon), the Temple Mount sifting project (which originated with a friend of this author, Prof. Gaby Barkay), volunteerism and more.

For those who know – or want to know – Israel, it is a delightful read that you won’t be able to put down. There is humor, there is wit, great research and special photographs.

If you happen to be in Jerusalem on May 15, the official book launch of Unexpected Israel will take place at Menachem Begin Heritage Centre. Guests will include Daniel Taub, former ambassador to the Court of St. James, and Steve Linde, editor-in-chief of the Jerusalem Post. Corman will present stories and images from the book. RSVP to [email protected] or via gefenpublishing.com (or 02 538 0247).

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, foreign correspondent, lecturer, food writer and book reviewer who lives in Jerusalem. She also does the restaurant features for janglo.net and leads weekly walks in English in Jerusalem’s market.

The story of Miriam Peretz

Those of us who live and work in Israel as journalists and book reviewers for international publications often have to wait until an Israeli bestseller is translated from Hebrew into English. I, for one, am very excited when this occurs, and especially for a biography like Miriam’s Song: The Story of Miriam Peretz (Gefen Publishing House, 2016) by Smadar Shir.

Shirat Miriam was published in Israel in 2011 and became a bestseller, with more than 20,000 copies sold. It is Peretz’s story, as recounted to Shir, who is a prolific author and composer, as well as a senior journalist at the newspaper Yedioth Ahronoth.

Peretz was born in Casablanca, where her family lived until she was 10 years old. In 1963, they immigrated to Israel, initially living in an immigrant camp in Beersheva. After graduating high school, Peretz went to Ben-Gurion University and became a teacher.

When she was 21, she met Eliezer Peretz, who was 31, also Moroccan. They married, and he returned to his work in Sharm el-Sheikh. She eventually joined him there, until the city was evacuated. Meanwhile, she began teaching, and they started their family, ultimately having six children.

In November 1998, Uriel, their 22-year-old son, a Golani (special forces) officer was killed in Lebanon, while in the army. Peretz kept going.

“My husband was overcome with sadness and wouldn’t go to work, but I had no choice but to continue functioning,” she says.

Peretz got a master’s degree in educational administration. Her second son joined the army, while she and her husband continued processing their grief for Uriel. She began visiting schools and military bases to talk about her son.

In 2005, her husband died – only 56 years old. And then, in March 2010, her son, Eliraz, married with four children, was killed while in the army.

In December 2010, then-Israel Defence Forces Chief of General Staff Lt.-Col. Gabi Ashkenazi awarded her a medal of appreciation. He said: “Miriam’s ability to continue to express her deep pain and channel it into a contribution to the education and formation of future generations, serves as an example and model of inspiration for us all.”

The next chapters of Miriam’s Song are told by each of Peretz’s four surviving children.

Miriam left her principal position after 27 years to become a Jerusalem district supervisor with the education ministry. After Miriam’s Song was published in Hebrew, Peretz began to travel to the United States for the organization Friends of the Israel Defence Forces. In 2014, she was a torchbearer on Israel Independence Day.

For a feature on International Women’s Day this year in the Jerusalem Post, Peretz was interviewed and photographed along with two other mothers who had each lost a son. Journalist Tal Ariel Amir writes, “these three courageous women have risen from the ashes of their despair.”

People ask what it is like to live in Israel. Although Miriam’s Song is replete with courage, faith and commitment, it is also about tragedy and sacrifice. It is a book to read to understand what it means to be a woman, a wife, a mother in Israel today.