freelancer – Page 505

Trip to India reveals much

Inside of Kadavumbagam Synagogue of Mattancherry, Cochin, facing what’s left of the women’s gallery. (photo by Deborah Rubin Fields)

In enormous and populous India, anonymity does not exist. And social or group orientation counts – in a big way. Ironically, this is apparent in laidback Kerala, a lush coastal farming state in the southwest of the country.

In Kerala, Jews, Christians, Muslims and Hindus basically lived in harmony for years. Yet, within the region’s small Jewish community – often referred to as Cochin Jews, since almost all the Kerala synagogues were built in the kingdom of Cochin – differences have existed between the apparently ancient Malabar Jews, the Meshuhurarum, whose ancestors were reportedly freed slaves, and the Paradesi Jews, who arrived hundreds of years later. Frequently, the groups referred to each other, sometimes derogatorily, as Black Jews, Brown Jews or White Jews. Even today, when one talks with those involved in these communities, issues related to paternalism, land rights and misappropriation of property enter into the conversation.

How have these divisions expressed themselves? A sense of imbalance sneaks in when learning about the famous Tamil script copper plates. The area’s ruler, Bhaskara Ravi Varman, presented these special plates upon the Malabar Jews’ arrival in 1069 CE, although the Malabar Jews often claim they arrived in southern India with King Solomon’s merchants. The plates provide a detailed list of the elevated rights and privileges the sovereign bestowed upon his new residents.

Somehow or other, these important proofs of status are no longer in the possession of the Malabar Jews. Rather, they are reportedly held by the Paradesi Jews who arrived in the 16th century from Spanish, Portuguese, Iraqi, Yemenite and European lands. Just how the Paradesi came to control them is not spelled out in historical accounts of these communities. It is simply presented as fact.

In her autobiography Ruby of Cochin: An Indian Jewish Woman Remembers (1993), Ruby Daniels (1912-2002) and Prof. Barbara Johnson recall Daniels’ experience at the Paradesi Synagogue, “our family had to sit separately from the others … the men in the azarah (entrance room) and the women in the separate building just in front of the synagogue. We could see everything from there, but it was a shame for us.”

Daniels also relates that, around 1950, a mixed couple wanted to marry in the Paradesi Synagogue. “The White Jews … opposed the marriage … [so] they had the wedding in Bombay.” And, “these Paradesis didn’t marry among the Jews of the other seven synagogues. Sometimes, they called the others ‘Black Jews’ though in fact most of them were not very black in color. And, sometimes, they spoke of them as converts and slaves, even though these Jews had been in Kerala hundreds of years before them.”

Still, the Malabar Jews managed to live a peaceful existence, working largely as shop owners. Over time, they spread out to five different Kerala towns and villages: Cochin, Ernakulam, Parur (also written Paravur), Chendamangalam and Mala. For Zionist rather than antisemitic reasons, the Jewish population, especially the Malabar Jewish community, resettled in Israel in the 1950s. The cemeteries and the eight or nine synagogues they built in the 1500s through the 1600s were left behind.

Today, the Malabar Jewish community’s presence in southern India is still felt, albeit not strongly. The Kerala governing body took upon itself to restore the community’s Chendamangalam Synagogue and Parur Synagogue. These centres of former Jewish life are now museums. However, some empty Jewish institutions are now being used for other purposes, such as offices, storerooms, handicraft and antique shops.

While five aging Paradesi members (and outside sponsors) maintain their synagogue and cemetery, this is definitely not the case in the Malabar Jewish cemetery in Mala. A sizable portion of it has been parceled off to build a stadium, which, in turn, might be converted into the K. Karunakaran Sports Academy, and graves have been desecrated. Significantly, this land grab violates the cemetery and synagogue preservation agreement the Malabar Jews signed with the Mala panchayat (the elective village council in India) before making aliyah in 1955. Villas now stand on the northern edge of the cemetery, but these were built on land the Malabar Jews sold to locals, so that they would have enough money for the move to Israel.

photo - Mala Jewish cemetery, one of three graves left intact. The villa can be seen in the background — Mala Jewish cemetery, one of three graves left intact. The villa can be seen in the background. *(photo by Deborah Rubin Fields)*

How did the cemetery disrepair come about? According to a professor emeritus, historian and social activist who goes by the name C. Karmachandran: “The Jews [who emigrated] from Mala could not visit and monitor the developments in Mala due to the social and political problems they faced in the infant nation of Israel. I understand … Indian Jewish immigrants were given only exit visas, with which it was not possible to return to India for a visit … only [in] the 1990s, it became easy for the Indian Jews to visit.”

He continued, “From the side of the local authority, their initial enthusiasm to conserve the Jewish monuments began to decline in course of time…. It may be noted that there was no purposeful destruction at that time, but there was serious neglect. There was nobody in the locality to point out its historical significance as we do now. Whoever came to power … found the vast area of the Jewish cemetery ‘ripe’ for their ambition to make money in the pretext of useful developmental projects.”

According to Karmachandran, “the Mala Jews in Israel seemed to be weak in protecting their interest in Mala cemetery. Even today that is the case … there is no effective Jew[ish] organization in Kerala to approach a court of law … the Paradesi … have no interest or influence beyond … Jew Town. They don’t maintain much contact with the remaining Malabari Jews who have a strength of around 25 members in its fold.”

While Kerala has a Hindu majority, the area around the Mala Jewish cemetery is currently 75% Muslims and 25% Christians, so sectarian politics has become an issue in the cemetery’s preservation, as well. An anonymous local source stated, “political parties who want to get the votes of Muslims will keep mum because [those who] speak for the Jewish monuments are being pictured as anti-Muslims and agents of Israel.”

Importantly, Karmachandran and other Kerala Christians, Muslims and Hindus have mobilized themselves to form the Heritage Protection Society, Mala. The group’s goal is to save what they consider not just their former neighbors’ Jewish heritage, but what they maintain is their common Indian heritage. To assist in the preservation project, contact Karmachandran at [email protected].

More on Jewish India

Oh, Lovely Parrot is a composite of musical pieces sung in the Malayalam language by Kerala Jewish women. As part of its digitized Jewish music conservation project, the Israel National Library (in collaboration with Hebrew University) offers free listening from its website. The online Jewish art collection of the library also has about 200 of Zev Radovan’s 1995 black-and-white photos of religious objects from the Malabar Jewish community.
A few years ago, Essie Sassoon, Bala Menon and Kenny Salem published Spice & Kosher: Exotic Cuisine of the Cochin Jews. Also, in Claudia Roden’s The Book of Jewish Food: An Odyssey from Samarkand to New York, there is a section devoted to “The Three Jewish Communities of India.” Finally, in his book Olive Trees and Honey: A Treasury of Vegetarian Recipes from Jewish Communities Around the World, Rabbi Gil Marks (z”l) devoted space to presenting a number of curried vegetarian Indian dishes.
Reconstructed Malabar synagogues are on view in different locations around Israel. Over a period of several years, Jerusalem’s Israel Museum restored the interior of Cochin’s Kadavumbagam Synagogue. It was opened to the public in 1996. The heichal (ark) and tebah (podium) originally came from the Parur Synagogue. Oddly enough, since the 1950s, the synagogue’s original heichal has been in use at Nehalim, an Israeli moshav composed of Orthodox German Jews. Moshav Netivim has an active synagogue and the Cochin Jewish Heritage Centre with artifacts of the Malabar Jewish community.

Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.

Was the Last Supper a seder?

“The Last Supper,” by Juan de Juanes (also known as Vicente Juan Masip), circa 1562, housed in Prado Museum. (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

Nearly every year around the time of the Jewish holiday of Passover and the Christian holiday of Easter, theologians and historians start to ask the same question. Was Jesus’ Last Supper a Passover seder?

“It is all very mysterious,” said Rabbi Raymond Apple, rabbi emeritus of the Great Synagogue in Sydney, Australia.

Let’s start with the facts. There are four accounts in the New Testament that refer to the Last Supper with reference to the Passover holiday. They are Mark 14:12-31, Matthew 26:17-30, Luke 22:1-19 and John 13:1-30. But Mark, Matthew and Luke are synoptic Gospels, which means they are closely related and best studied together, making the three Gospels – according to Jonathan Klawans, a professor in Boston University’s department of religion – “one testimony, which was then copied twice.”

“Mark … fashioned and inserted a single ‘Passover’ paragraph (14:12-16) … between what we identify as 14:11-17,” explained author Michael J. Cook, a professor of Judeo-Christian studies at Hebrew Union College-Jewish Institute of Religion. “So, the entire problem resides with Mark’s text.”

According to Mark’s text, Jesus prepared for the Last Supper on “the first day of Unleavened Bread, when they sacrificed the Passover lamb.”

We know that the Passover lamb was sacrificed on the 14th day of the Hebrew month of Nissan, and consumed by Jewish families either on that night or the onset of the 15th day of Nissan.

Klawans notes that there are those who can cite no fewer than 14 parallels between the account described in Mark and the modern-day Passover seder. These include the bread and wine, the hymn or blessings that were recited and the reclining diners. Jews at their seders discuss the symbolism of the Passover meal; Jesus at his Last Supper discussed the symbolism of the wine (“This is the blood of my covenant”) and the bread (“Take, eat; this is my body”).

Nonetheless, scholars Klawans, Apple and Cook all do not believe that Jesus’ Last Supper was a Passover seder, for several reasons.

For starters, the parallels that can be drawn seem to be those that are general, rather than decisive. It would not be uncanny for Jesus to eat a meal with his disciples in Jerusalem. During that meal, they would have reclined, broken bread, drank wine and possibly even sang a hymn.

“Such behavior may have been characteristic of the Passover meal, but it is equally characteristic of practically any Jewish meal [at the time],” said Klawans.

Some key Passover elements are missing from the Last Supper: the Passover lamb, references to matzah (unleavened bread), the bitter herbs, charoset, the four cups of wine, the recitation of the Four Questions and the narrative retelling of the Passover story.

Moreover, the parallels drawn between the Last Supper and the Passover seder ritual we celebrate today assume that the seder as we know it was celebrated in Jesus’ day. But this is not the case. Nearly all scholars agree that the modern Passover Haggadah and the rabbinic accounts of Passover traditions all emanate from after the destruction of the first Jewish Temple in the year 70 CE. The Gospels date Jesus’ ministry from around 26 CE to early 37 CE, with Jesus’ death coming between 30 and 33 CE.

“At that time, the core element of the Passover observance had been Jerusalem’s sacrificial cult, from 621 BCE up until 70 CE,” said Cook. “Jewish families brought lambs for sacrifice on the Temple altar as biblically prescribed.… For the ceremony, the kohanim (Jewish priests) conducted the sacrificial rite. Then families retrieved and consumed their meat as part of their Passover meal, which also included unleavened bread and bitter herbs. The Passover meals Jesus experienced in his lifetime would have had to be along these Temple-centred lines.”

Klawans said many people assume that Jesus ate matzah at his Last Supper because Catholics eat wafers as their Eucharist bread. The custom of using wafers, however, does not date back as far as one might think, but rather only to medieval times. The oldest customs in Orthodox Christian churches involve bread, and the New Testament describes bread, not unleavened bread.

“There is no reason to think the bread was matzah unless that was specified,” Klawans said.

Additionally, Klawans said it is impractical for Jesus’ crucifixion to have taken place on Passover, as the Sanhedrin (Jewish High Court of 70 elders) would not have worked on the yom tov, which was already one of the Israelites’ most important pilgrimage festivals.

שידור הווידאו של סנודן

אלפים הגיעו לשמוע את שידור הווידאו של אדוארד סנודן לוונקובר (צילום: Roni Rachmani)

ליף הידוע בעולם, אדוארד סנודן, שעבד בעבר בסוכנות לביטחון לאומי של ארה”ב (האן.אס.איי), השתתף ביום שלישי שעבר בפורום על נושא “המידע גדול” שאורגן על ידי אוניברסיטת סיימון פרייזר בוונקובר. סנודן שמסתתר במוסקבה מזה כשלוש שנים, דיבר אמצעות שידור וידאו לאלפי מעריצים שמילאו עד אפס מקום את אולם תיאטרון קווין אליזבת בדאון טאון. הכרטיסים לאירוע נמכרו מראש לפני מספר חודשים בתוך שעות.

סנודן נטש את ארה”ב במאי 2013 ומשם טס להונג קונג. הוא קיווה לקבל בהונג קונג או באיסלנד מקלט מדיני מפני השלטון האמריקני שמחפש להביאו למשפט אך זה לא קרה. סנודן טס ישירות לרוסיה ושם קיבל מקלט מדיני. הוא חשף בין היתר מידע על קשרי ישראל וארה”ב, שמתאר את מערכת היחסים הקרובה בין שירותי הביטחון של שתי המדינות (בתחומי ירוט, ניתוח ודיווח) כולל העברת מידע צבאי, אזרחי ותקשורת דיפלומטית.

בדבריו בפורום התייחס סנודן לסוגיות שעומדות כיום על הפרק. בהן הדלפת המסמכים הענקית ממשרד עורכי הדין על המשקיעים ידועים מכל העולם שמחזיקים הון גדול בפנמה, החשיבות שבהדלפת חומרים מסוג כזה, על החוק נגד טרור שאושר בקדנציה האחרונה של ממשלת השמרנים בראשות סטיבן הרפר, ומה יכולים לעשות כיום אזרחים מן השורה כדי שיוכלו לשמור על פרטיותם.

לגבי פרשת פנמה טען סנודן כי שוב הוכח שאנשים עשירים בעלי השפעה מנצלים את כוחם, ופועלים לפי חוקים אחרים לעומת אזרחים מן השורה, ואף משלמים הרבה פחות מס מהם. “אנו למדים שהשחיתות אינה רק נחלתן של סין, רוסיה ואוקראינה, אלא גם של מדינות אחרות” הוא הוסיף. סנודן חזר והדגיש כי רק הדלפות כמו זו של מסמכי פנמה, המסמכים שהוא בעצמו חשף ביוני 2013 על תוכניות המעקב של האן.אס.איי, יגנו על האזרחים. הוא הדגיש כי יש לעודד ואף לתמוך במדליפים. בתשובה לשאלה שהגיע מן הקהל, הוא ענה כי לא היה לו קשר למי שהדליף את מסמכי פנמה. לגבי קנדה ציין סנודן כי כידוע למדינה יש קשרים הדוקים עם ארה”ב והן שותפות במידע עם שלוש מדינות נוספות שחברות במועדון ‘חמש העיניים’ לנושאי ביטחון וביון (בריטניה, אוסטרליה וניו זילנד). לגבי ההגנה על פרטיות האזרחים הציע סנודן כי יש לנקוט במשנה זהירות בכל הקשור לשיחות טלפון, שליחת מסרים וכדומה. הוא הציע מספר אפליקציות שחסינות ממעקב.

סנודן הוא האחראי לכך שפתאם כולם מדברים על הצפנת מסרים, נושא שנמצא בחדשות בתקופה האחרונה וכולל את כל אמצעי המדיה השונים. לפני שהחל סנודן לחשוף את מסמכי האן.אס.איי לפני כשלוש שנים, היה קשה להסביר את הצורך שבהצפנה ברוב המכשירים והיישומים. עם חשיפת מידע הריגול האדיר על האן.אס.איי והשותפות של הארגון של ידי סנודן, הופנתה ביקורת קשה מאוד אל עבר הממשל האמריקני, מצד גורמים שונים בהם חברות תקשורת רבות וממשלות באירופה. סנודן הוא זה שהביא לתודעת התקשורת והציבור הרחב את החשיבות שנושא ההצפנה.

בשידור לוונקובר אמר סנודן שהוא תומך נלהב באפליקציית המסרים של וואטסאפ (בבעלות פייסבוק שרכשה אותה לפני כשנתיים תמורת 19 מיליארד דולר). כל ההודעות שנשלחות בוואטסאפ מקבלות שידרוג אבטחה גבוה ביותר מקצה אל קצה, ממש כמו הצפנה של תכנים. לדברי סנודן זהו המערך היחידי כיום שאי אפשר לדלות את האניפורמציה שמועברת בו כולל מספרי טלפון, מסרים ותמונות. על המשתמש בוואטסאפ לבדוק שהאפליקציה שלו מעודכנת והוא משתמש בגירסה האחרונה של השירות.

Bringing our seniors home

The author and her youngest son, Joel, enjoy Purim at the Louis Brier Home and Hospital. Her eldest son, Benjamin, was the photographer. (all photos by Benjamin Harrington)

When the Hebrew Men’s Cultural Club met in 1945 to talk about starting a home for the elderly, their project began with 14 men, with $5 each. The first home opened in 1946 with 13 residents. Now home to more than 200 seniors, the Dr. Irving and Phyliss Snider Campus for Jewish Seniors includes the Louis Brier Home and Hospital, and the Weinberg Residence. With many new programs and services, the campus has formed powerful bonds with the surrounding community.

This spring sees the launch of a new fundraising campaign by the Louis Brier Jewish Aged Foundation, which provides financial support to the campus. To interview members of the foundation board and staff about the campaign, I made my visit to the Louis Brier Home with both of my children during their spring break. Benjamin, 8, and Joel, 5, are used to volunteering in a seniors home, and are quite comfortable coming to work with me. Without grandparents in the area, it was a blessing for us all to be able to visit the home.

photo - Music therapist Megan Goudreau provides holiday entertainment — Music therapist Megan Goudreau provides holiday entertainment.

Before even shaking any hands, the first thing we noticed was the art. There is art everywhere, and not mass-produced art but carefully curated, vibrant images, full of life, movement and different textures. According to foundation president Harry Lipetz, this is thanks to the organization’s art committee. Every piece is a donation.

We met first with Dr. Judith Globerman, interim chief executive officer of the Snider Campus. Asked to point to some of the home’s distinguishing features, she described an atmosphere that is “more personal than institutional. Our staff feels it’s their home, too, and they tend to stay with us a long time.”

Residents also have a sense of agency, so, for example, if the seniors want to suggest changes – even to the art hanging outside their room – these changes can be made quickly.

Describing her place of work, Globerman spoke about energy, love and understanding. “The energy is warm, celebrating life; people’s faces here light up, there’s always life going on around you, even if you’re not moving yourself.”

Lipetz joined the Brier Foundation for this very reason. “It is a happy place,” he said. “I saw the level of caring, from custodial staff right through to top management.”

Bernard Pinsky, chair of the current fundraising campaign, can attest to the heimish (comfortable, homey) quality of the Louis Brier Home.

“Both of my parents lived there, as well as my uncles and aunt,” he said. “For a period of 21 years, at least one of my relatives lived there. My mom was at Louis Brier for 13 years. I was there a lot and saw for myself the warmth, the quality of the care. The program director goes into residents’ rooms personally to check in, to encourage seniors to join activities. It makes such a difference to be invited personally, to keep you connected to community life.”

The Louis Brier is the only Jewish home for seniors in the province. As such, it carries a certain responsibility, said Pinsky. He speaks of the community’s pride in being able to offer a life with dignity in a warm and stimulating environment to our seniors.

“Donors’ contributions make it a Jewish home,” he said. “They allow us to offer the special things that help people to live more fulfilling lives: kosher food, a weekly minyan, festivities for every Jewish holiday.”

That said, nothing prepared us for our visit at Purim, where we were greeted by staff wearing rainbow tutus, feather boas, glittery glasses and spotted mouse ears. As we stood in the entrance hall among the balloons, an elderly resident wearing googly-eye glasses strolled through with some friends waving groggers. Needless to say, this was a little different from my sons’ previous experiences of seniors facilities.

photo - Residents get into the spirit of Purim — Residents get into the spirit of Purim.

When I spoke with Pinsky, he talked at length about the Louis Brier’s music therapy program. Offered by a team of professionals, it is based on research that shows how music calls on a different part of the brain than speech. Pinsky observed, “People can sing songs they knew 60 or 70 years ago, when they can’t even speak.”

He added, “We have the best seniors music therapy in the province. There’s music every single day.”

The March calendar includes weekly Shabbat music, ukelele sing-alongs and jam sessions, as well as a concert of Russian music and a piano recital. We caught a flavor of this during our visit when music therapist Megan Goudreau played her guitar and sang one of the residents’ favorite songs, “Kol Ha’olam Kulo.”

photo - Even a friendly dog joins in the festivities — Even a friendly dog joins in the festivities.

The home was a hive of activity when we visited, with youngsters volunteering, residents – and a couple of friendly dogs! – milling about. Costumed kids came by with their families and sang on both floors of the home. Nothing beats the sight of a mini race-car driver delivering a “Chag Purim!” message with a huge smile to delighted seniors.

“The three things that concern residents the most – beyond housing – are food, music and companionship. The foundation provides that. It’s beyond public funding,” said Lipetz.

The seniors “are not coming here to be housed,” he added, “they are coming here to live.”

Pinsky agreed. “It’s amazing what we’re able to do. Loneliness is one of the biggest problems for seniors, so seniors with families who live out of town can be visited by special companions.”

Louis Brier residents have access to their own rabbi, Hillel Brody, spiritual leader of the Chava and Abrasha Wosk Synagogue. Located within the home, the synagogue is funded solely by the foundation. In other words, like the music, the companions and occupational therapy, it is a gift from the community.

The new campaign is a quest to raise $1 million. Pledges are for two years, so a $5,000 donation would be given in two portions of $2,500 each.

“These funds are essential to maintain continuity in the programming,” said Pinsky. “The home needs to budget 12 months ahead, for the next fiscal year. If we fall into deficit, these life-improving programs need to be cut.”

Added Lipetz, “For many residents, this is their last home. We want to make it their best home.”

Shula Klinger is an author, illustrator and journalist living in North Vancouver.

Jungle comes to the city

Luc Roderique as Shere Khan and Camille Legg as Mowgli in Carousel Theatre for Young People’s The Jungle Book. (photo by Tim Matheson)

This month, Carousel Theatre for Young People presents The Jungle Book, the musical adaptation of the classic story by Rudyard Kipling. For the production at Waterfront Theatre, which opens April 17, local Jewish community member Anton Lipovetsky takes on the role of sound designer and additional music.

The Studio 58 alumnus is no stranger to the Vancouver performing arts scene. Lipovetsky has worked as an actor for many local companies since graduating from the Studio 58 acting training program in 2011. “Now I spend about half my year working as an actor,” he said, noting that he’ll be joining the cast of Bard on the Beach again this summer, “and, roughly, the other half creating music and musical directing for local theatrical productions.”

He approaches each project in a different way.

“I try to be as prepared as possible for theatre gigs, but, especially if I’m in a designing role or leadership role like musical director, I have to make more decisions, and make them earlier, and those decisions will affect more people. I suppose there’s more pressure at the beginning. But then, unlike performing, as rehearsals get underway, I’ll become more and more hands-off, showing trust to the performers, creative team and crew,” he said.

Lipovetsky does not remember one exact moment when he realized he possessed a talent for composing and sound design. Rather, he noted that he has been playing the guitar and writing music his entire life, and music naturally worked its way into his career.

“I’ve been singing and writing songs for as long as I can remember,” he said. “I fell in love with theatre in high school (I had great teachers). Then, through my training at Studio 58, I learned how multi-disciplined a theatre artist can be. I’m always looking for new ways to challenge myself as a creator.”

Regarding his latest endeavor, The Jungle Book, Lipovetsky said there are inherent nuances when working on an adaptation, but there is always room for further expression.

“There’s always a degree of pressure when dealing with any story as beloved as The Jungle Book, but I think [director] Kayla Dunbar’s innovative concept will allow audiences to approach the show from a new angle.… The adaptation, written by Tracey Power, comes with some great tunes by Tracey and her collaborator Steve Charles, and encouragement to create jungle soundscapes and rhythms. I will be working with the fabulous percussionist Todd Biffard to devise a score played through traditional Indian instruments, like the tabla and dhol.”

Given that Carousel Theatre is geared towards youth – on, behind and in front of the stage – it is expected that much of the audience will be made up of children. Parents should note, however, that the theatre company recommends that viewers be 6 years old at least, as “[t]here are some intense moments and strong themes, with characters in the play dealing with topics that include hatred, prejudice, killing and death.”

Aware of who the audience will be, Lipovetsky said, “The most important value for me in this process is making sure the sound/music is clear for the youth and economical (not too long!). I do think the sound/music is going to elicit a big range of emotions from the youth … we will definitely mine the comedy, but we’ll search for dramatic depth, as well. Keeping the stakes high is important to a discerning young audience.”

The Jungle Book is, above all, a story of finding empathy and acceptance in the face of prejudice and intolerance.

“I think everybody feels like an outsider at some point in their childhood,” said Lipovetsky. “Jewish children may feel that especially because of how small the Jewish population is; they may feel underrepresented. Mowgli is treated like family by Baloo and the wolves, even though he is so different from them. Because of this kindness, Mowgli learns integrity, ultimately connecting with his roots and becoming a hero. I hope children root for him! And I also hope they want to be like Baloo in their own lives … compassionate and helpful to others.”

Lipovetsky believes that the story of The Jungle Book serves to emphasize that it is often through unlikely connections with those who may be different to us that we are able to become better ourselves.

With respect to how theatre can transmit values and offer guidance for how to approach life, Lipovetsky said, “What I have found is that art helps me to better understand others and better understand myself. I think understanding is more powerful than tolerance.”

The Carousel Theatre for Young People production opens April 17, just two days after Disney’s The Jungle Book remake hits movie theatres. Lipovetsky called it “the spring of The Jungle Book” and believes the movie will help the play’s success.

For tickets to The Jungle Book, which runs Saturdays and Sundays, 2 p.m., until May 1, visit carouseltheatre.ca.

Brittni Jacobson is a freelance writer living in Toronto.

A fresh look at Israel

David Decolongon participated in the first-ever mission organized by the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs designed exclusively for young people who originate, or whose families came from, East Asia. (photo from David Decolongon)

A Vancouver student who recently returned from Israel says he has a better understanding of the nuances of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict – and other realities of life in the region – after participating in a mission for young leaders of East Asian descent.

David Decolongon is a student at Regent College, on the University of British Columbia campus. He graduated from UBC last year in political science with a minor in philosophy, and is considering whether to pursue a full master’s degree or complete a graduate diploma in Christian studies.

He was chosen to participate in the first-ever mission organized by the Centre for Israel and Jewish

Affairs designed exclusively for young people who originate, or whose families came from, East Asia. Decolongon, who was born in Vancouver, is of Filipino heritage.

“I connected with this trip in three major ways,” he said. “Number one, religiously. I’m a practising Christian and so being able to go to a place where a lot of this history took place was big enough for me. But also, over the summer, I was involved in a startup and so being able to connect with Israel through a startup team was big with me. But also to connect with it politically was big for me because I’m involved in politics, I work and volunteer for a political party right now.”

Though he said it is a “cop-out” to say the entire trip was a highlight in itself, he does identify a number of instances that stand out when he recalls the trip, which took place in February.

“Being able to go over to Ramallah and meet the Canadian attaché to the Palestinian Authority and to be able to go up north to see the Lebanese border and to learn the history of that area and to go to a lot of those places that you hear about a lot in the news is probably the significant highlight for me in this trip,” said Decolongon.

Though he had been to Israel before, on a church-organized trip, the variety of perspectives he witnessed on this occasion, combined with the diversity of fellow participants from across Canada, opened his eyes and mind, he said.

“When it comes to thinking about a hot topic such as Israel, people tend to use a lot of political rhetoric and they tend to take very pro- and anti-, very extreme, stances. I think when you’re on the ground and you see how these things affect people on a daily basis, whether they be Jewish-Israeli, Arab-Israeli, Palestinian, it becomes more real and, once you’re on the ground, the solutions that you bring to the table tend to be a lot more common sense, a lot more feasible and a lot more geared toward achieving peace for all groups,” he said.

Being pro-Israel, he added, does not mean being anti-Palestinian.

“You can take a pro-Israeli stance while at the same time wanting to push the well-being of Palestinians. People think it’s an either-or answer but when you’re on the ground and you get to see what really happens, you’re more interested in pushing forth the betterment of life for both groups,” he said.

People everywhere have the same desires for their children, said Decolongon.

“They want to make sure that their children can grow up in safety, that their young people have jobs coming out of college and university,” he said. “We come at it recognizing that both sides have common interest and it’s going to be messy and it’s going to be complex, but I think the solutions are attainable once you realize that both sides are human and that both sides can come to the table and either side may not get 100% of what they want but we can certainly make it livable for both sides.”

Decolongon was the only British Columbian among the eight participants, though the mission was led by Sarina Rehal, an employee in CIJA’s Toronto office who is from here and who graduated from UBC. The group met with a wide range of people, including an Arab-Israeli journalist, a leader in the region’s vibrant startup sector who thinks economic opportunity is the antidote to Islamic extremism, as well as political, military and academic experts.

The newly established East Asian Student Leaders program was created by CIJA as an experiential learning initiative for students of East Asian heritage or origin who demonstrate leadership in the areas of politics, journalism or campus activism.

Nico Slobinsky, director for the Pacific region of CIJA, said it is important to engage young leaders.

“It’s an ongoing dialogue and opportunity we are forging with these young leaders as they continue to engage in their communities, with our community, with civil society in Canada, in the years ahead,” said Slobinsky. “As they progress in their leadership, in their careers, into their life, they will continue to engage and that’s why we do this.

“In the case of this mission in particular, we were looking at emerging leaders in the pan-Asian communities,” he said.

Is life all about luck?

Colleen Wheeler and Scott Bellis in Good People. (photo by Emily Cooper)

It’s always a treat to see Colleen Wheeler on stage, as her performances never disappoint. And she keeps the track record going in Good People at the Arts Club. However, the overall feel I came away with after the play didn’t match the level of enjoyment I had for the acting.

Wheeler plays Margaret, a feisty, mile-a-minute talker who can finagle her way into anything, except work.

Living in South Boston, a dense, lower-class neighborhood, Marg blames her situation on bad luck – growing up without the guidance of parents, not being able to go to a better school or get a better job. She fears she will end up like former classmate Cookie McDermot, an alcoholic living on the street.

As the play opens, Marg is being fired from a cashier’s job at a dollar store after coming late several times. The single mother is often late because she has to tend to a daughter who has mental health issues – a daughter for whom she gets no child support and who may or may not be the child of a former high school flame.

She commiserates about life over McCafés in bingo parlors with her friend Jeanne (Jenn Griffin), former supervisor Stevie (Ben Elliott) and landlord Dottie (Patti Allan), who is supposed to watch Marg’s daughter but often forgets to show up. One day, Jeanne mentions that she ran into Mike, an old boyfriend of Marg’s who has become a doctor, so Marg sets out to talk her way into a job.

Within minutes of walking into Mike’s office, she profanely insults his secretary and comments on her physical appearance. She insults Mike himself, saying he’s not a “Southie” anymore, that he now lives “lace curtain.” And she passive-aggressively follows up every abuse with the disclaimer, “Awww, I’m just bustin’ your balls.”

Despite all of this, her mastery at twisting Mike’s words and actually making him feel guilty for the altercations get her invited to an upcoming party. When Mike calls her later that week to cancel because his daughter is sick, Marg begins to think he doesn’t want her to attend – and goes anyway. It is in this scene where Marg, Mike and his wife, Kate, face one another that the skeletons of the past are unleashed.

It starts out as a respectful interaction, with Kate being the gracious host, despite Marg’s rough demeanor and colorful language.

“How’s the wine?” Kate politely asks.

“How the f–– should I know?” Marg retorts, almost laughing at the ridiculousness of the question.

But the discussion deteriorates, as expected, as Mike tries desperately to get Marg to leave. When details of past affairs and questions of “Who’s the baby’s father?” come up, Marg pulls out the claws and tries to tear strips off Mike, lashing out at him for having had the luck he needed to rise out of the South End, the luck to have parents who pushed him, the luck never to have to really struggle.

In much of the play, we are listening to people arguing, complaining and name-calling, which gets tedious. At one level, Marg is a likeable, even inspirational, character. Consider how often we pretend to be aficionados of art or wine or food, just to be accepted. Marg makes no apologies for not knowing how wine should taste.

But, for most of the play, Marg is insufferable. Her constant stream of talking is exhausting. She resorts to, “I’m just bustin’ your balls,” to cover up insults based on her true feelings. And she is stuck blaming everyone and everything around her for her situation. We should be provoked into asking ourselves, how much does luck actually play in success in life? The problem was, I didn’t care by the end, and I think it’s because I just disliked Marg.

However, I did like the set. Wonderfully thought out and detailed, the modular rooms rotate into, out of and around the stage, with beautiful precision. You could hear the audience’s “oohs” and “aahs” as the curtain rose on the second act.

Good People was written by David Lindsay-Abaire and is directed by Rachel Ditor. It runs until April 24 at the Stanley (artsclub.com).

Baila Lazarus is a freelance writer and media trainer in Vancouver. Her consulting work can be seen at phase2coaching.com.

Pragmatic, dirty choices

Franklin Roosevelt famously replied to his secretary of state’s assessment of the Nicaraguan strongman Anastasio Somoza Debayle – “Somoza’s a bastard!” – with the rejoinder “Yes, but he’s our bastard.”

Politics makes strange bedfellows. International relations perhaps even more so. The world today is an intricate puzzle of interlocking and disparate pieces. It was, frankly, cleaner and clearer in the days of FDR, when there was just “us” and “them.” Let it not be overlooked though, that when “them” meant the Nazis, Stalin was among those counted as “us.” Stalin was evil, but he helped defeat Nazism. Is the Western world soiled by our partnership with him? Certainly. Would we choose an alternative history had we the chance? What alternative?

The Liberal government of Prime Minister Justin Trudeau inherited from the Conservative government of Stephen Harper (among other things) a hot potato in the form of an arms deal with Saudi Arabia.

The previous Conservative government facilitated what is the largest single Canadian manufacturing-export deal ever. General Dynamics Land Systems of London, Ont., will provide light armored vehicles to the Saudi military – a military that helped crush Arab Spring-related uprisings in neighboring Bahrain and in the Shiite areas of eastern Saudi Arabia. The Saudis are also accused of indiscriminate killings in Yemen, where they are fighting Iran-backed Islamists.

It deserves to be said that Saudi Arabia relies on trade with customers like Canada because, despite being the world’s second largest oil-producing nation, the Saudis have failed to parlay that windfall into anything lasting. Canada still exports too many raw materials that could be processed at home and sold abroad at added value but, compared with Saudi Arabia, we are the model of a diversified economy. Since the Saudi oil boom began, the country has invested nearly nothing in anything else, unless exporting Wahhabism is a tertiary industry, which, actually, it seems to be.

Famous for publicly scything off the heads of political dissidents, adulterers and others who in the West would be described as next-door neighbors, Saudi Arabia is now pushing to step up executions of gay people because social media is “making too many homosexuals.”

Despite the cuckoo United Nations logic that says Israel is the world’s top human rights violator, Saudi Arabia is actually a perpetrator of some of the world’s most atrocious abuses of human rights, from the extreme (public beheadings) to the mundane (if you consider the right of women to drive cars or show their faces in public mundane).

Paraphrasing FDR, Saudi Arabia is a bastard.

This seems to be the general consensus and helps explain why the (comparatively) new Liberal government is awkward in its defence of the $15 billion arms deal.

Trudeau has said that annulling the deal would hurt Canada’s reputation and, indeed, a democratic government that reneges on the deals made by its predecessors is treading on ice. Future potential customers could well think twice if Canada had a reputation for backing out of major trade deals when the government changes.

On this side of the pragmatic divide, the deal also means about 3,000 jobs for 15 years in southwestern Ontario. So, the Liberal government has made little defence of its decision other than relying on economics and the decency of sticking with a signed deal.

In the National Post last week, Lawrence Solomon made a different case – a moral case – for sticking with the deal. He argues that Saudi Arabia, however repugnant its internal policies may be, is on the frontlines of combating terror in the form of ISIS, Iran and associated menaces and, therefore, deserves our support.

This is a comparatively novel idea. The Canadian government is taking refuge in excuses that the previous government made a deal, that Canadian jobs are at stake and that it has no option. A cartoon in the Toronto Star depicted Trudeau declaring, “My hands are tied” next to a blindfolded victim being led to his beheading, saying, “I know how you feel.”

Yet maybe Trudeau’s argument should have been more along the lines of Solomon’s. It is not impossible, using some creative logic as Solomon did, to make the case that selling military equipment to the Saudis is in our national interest. Do we wish it were not so? In an ideal world, all our allies would be righteous and all our enemies defeated. But, in a real world as fractured and dangerous as ours, choosing to support unsavory allies to defeat unsavory enemies may be something we need to learn to swallow.

The legendary FDR quote is held up as a model of foreign policy pragmatism, if not ruthlessness. Canadians – especially this lily-white new government – like to think of ourselves as above such sullying choices. If we want to have the impact in the world that Trudeau seemed to be referencing with his “Canada is back” sloganeering, he may have to admit that sometimes we need to get our hands dirty.

At the very least, tough choices should be confronted, not shirked. If it is immoral and wrong to sell military equipment to the Saudis, we shouldn’t do it, and damn the consequences. If it is justifiable on the grounds that the enemy of my enemy is my friend, then we should trade with the Saudis and make our moral case clearly. But we should not try to have it both ways, slapping down the Saudis with one hand while taking their money with the other.

Is it time to end IJV herem?

When Vancouver-based songwriter and musician Daniel Maté wrote on his public Facebook page that he had declined an invitation from Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver to accompany some singers on Yom Hazikaron, since he “couldn’t in conscience do that as long as we don’t honor the far more numerous victims of the terror ‘our’ side inflicts,” he received an invitation from an Independent Jewish Voices (IJV) member to get involved in their group.

Sarah Levine was that IJV member. “It’s important to me to stand with other Jews who are working for Palestinian human rights,” she told me. “I think we have a particular role as Jews to think critically about Zionism, since the state of Israel often claims that it does things ‘in our name’ and with our support.”

Along the political spectrum of Jewish groups in Canada devoted to matters pertaining to Israel and Palestine, IJV – which bills itself as a human rights organization – tries to carve out a space rejecting traditional Zionist principles. In an organized Jewish community where conservative positions on Israel prevail, this doesn’t make it many friends.

Writing in the Huffington Post, IJV campaigns coordinator Tyler Levitan cites the silent treatment he regularly receives from an array of Jewish institutions when he seeks to publicly debate issues including Jewish National Fund discriminatory land-lease policies and the boycott, divestment and sanction movement. IJV considers BDS “a last resort,” as the group’s website says, and, while most observers would characterize IJV as anti-Zionist, it says that it “does not define itself in terms of Zionism.”

I spoke with Levitan. “Eroding that support base [for political Zionism] would be weakening the glue that binds the community,” he said. “That’s the fear. But we at IJV feel that having difficult and honest conversations is what makes the community stronger.”

For several years, I’ve watched IJV operate from close quarters. As a self-defined progressive Zionist, I have not signed onto IJV’s platform. But, as someone who values serious debate within the Jewish community, I have twice participated in an IJV-hosted forum. Mostly, I find it a sign of community weakness that most of the engines of the Jewish community attempt to shut IJV out of the conversation entirely.

Some Jewish papers (namely this one and the Jewish Post & News in Winnipeg) are open to including IJV perspectives, but the Canadian Jewish News and the Ottawa Jewish Bulletin keep a wide berth around IJV. Yoni Goldstein, CJN’s editor, will not grant IJV editorial space. As Goldstein put it, “… even though we promote inclusion as a virtue, there are limits to how inclusive we’re willing to be. Abetting BDS and rejecting Israel’s future as a Jewish state crosses the line.” Goldstein added: “Independence has its benefits, but the comfort of community is not usually one of them.”

With the exception of the Peretz Centre in Vancouver and the Winchevsky Centre in Toronto, no Jewish community locale will host IJV events – or even rent space to them, according to Levitan. But they’re not giving up on trying to be heard within Jewish community walls. “We’re persistent,” he said.

To reject Zionism indeed does place IJV outside of the mainstream community tent. It is this way, but should it be?

Like all political “isms,” Zionism’s meaning comes from the effects of the policies with which it is associated. While the debate between statist Zionism and those who foresaw other possible arrangements for Jewish liberation in the early 20th century was robust and active, non-Zionist voices receded as Jewish statehood emerged. But now, almost seven decades later, Israel is in crisis. It may be time to ask whether Jewish privilege should be rolled back in favor of some more inclusive and democratic arrangement. A frightened community, however, may view this very question as akin to treason.

IJV’s adherence to the Palestinian right of return is the biggest stumbling block for those who support Israel’s identity as a Jewish and democratic state. But even here, consider the wording on IJV’s website: “Peace will only be possible when Israel acknowledges the Palestinian refugees’ right of return and negotiates a just and mutually agreed solution based on principles established in international law, including return, compensation and/or resettlement.”

Any solution – even a two-state one – will likely involve some return, some compensation and some resettlement. While IJV does speak in terms of “rights,” in practice we might see their call as somewhat more pragmatic than many assume.

The thing is, even reasoning out these complicated dilemmas as I’m trying to do here is well-nigh impossible as long as groups like IJV remain excluded by the sort of herem (excommunication) with which they’ve been saddled. One thing on which Levitan and mainstream Jewish community leaders seem to agree is that there’s a lot of fear. And, sadly, we know all too well the kinds of politics to which fear can give rise.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She is a columnist for Canadian Jewish News and contributes to Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward, among other publications.

Our sons, daughters

What happened last month in Hebron is heartbreaking. A young soldier is being vilified for killing a terrorist who had come for the sole purpose of murdering Jews. He is now facing charges of manslaughter.

One of the most difficult things about our decision to make aliyah was knowing our four children would have to serve in the Israel Defence Forces. After all, it was our decision, not theirs, to leave the safety, security and comfort of their birthplace, Australia, to make a new life in Israel.

That was in 1971, two years before the Yom Kippur War erupted. But we stayed, and they grew up here knowing that it was a duty, even a privilege, to set aside their ambitions temporarily and devote a few years to serving their country. They became Israeli gradually and, by the time they were 18, regarded army service as a natural rite of passage.

Nevertheless, as a mother, I found it hard. I will never forget the trauma of standing on the beach at Palmachim (near Ashkelon) with the other parents and watching our younger son make his first parachute jump. Forty young paratroopers jumped that day. Because of the altitude of the planes, it was impossible to see our sons’ faces until they almost landed. We watched breathlessly to see the parachutes open, one by one. I thought each one was my son and, finally came to the realization that they were all my sons.

The years passed. Our sons and daughters enlisted, with one son fighting in Lebanon. They went to university, married, had children of their own. It was lovely to be grandparents of babies, toddlers and then young children. But now, most of them are grown up and following in their parents’ footsteps. Some have completed army service, some are currently serving and some will soon reach that significant age of 18.

We have attended numerous ceremonies where we have watched hundreds of boys take an oath of allegiance. We sang “Hatikvah” with that catch in the throat one gets at moments of high emotion. We laughed as they threw their caps in the air, signaling the end of the formal proceedings. We were so proud of them, and so afraid of what they might be called to do, what decisions they would have to make.

Just like the young soldier in Hebron.

To every parent whose children have served in the IDF, how can our hearts not go out to this young soldier’s family?

Every soldier is our son, our daughter.

Dvora Waysman is a Jerusalem-based author. She can be contacted at [email protected] or through her blog dvorawaysman.com.