Kalman Bar-On, left, and Leopold Lowy at their reunion in 2002. (photo from Richard Lowy)
An SS guard walked down the line of prisoners gathered for roll call at Auschwitz-Birkenau in 1944 and randomly picked two boys out of the line. Kalman Braun and Leopold Lowy would spend the next six-and-a-half months together working as servants in a guard shack, giving them a unique viewpoint on what was happening in that place during some of the final months of the Second World War.
The boys, who each had twin sisters and were, therefore, of interest to the infamous Nazi doctor, Josef Mengele, would survive the Holocaust, as would their sisters. Lowy moved to Canada and settled in Vancouver, Braun moved to Israel and became Kalman Bar-On – the two would not see each other again for more than half a century.
Their story was shared at the Rothstein Theatre Jan. 26, the eve of International Holocaust Remembrance Day, the 78th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz-Birkenau. Richard Lowy, son of the late Leopold (or Leo) Lowy, presented an immersive experience that included first-person testimony, with Richard Lowy speaking the words, variously, of Bar-On, Leo Lowy and himself, as the son of Canada’s last surviving “Mengele twin,” who passed away in 2002, just a few months after he reconnected with Bar-On. Next year, Lowy intends to release a book based on hours of interviews he did with Bar-On.
The testimony, which Lowy presented last year in a similar format in Tel Aviv, is extremely rare, he contends, because of the unique vantage point his father and Bar-On had on concentration camp operations for half a year.
“This is these two Jewish kids, 15 years old,” Lowy told the Independent before the presentation, “cleaning the [SS] barrack, staring over the shoulders of the SS guards, at the front window looking out into the camp and watching the things that are going on, the selections, the liquidation of the Gypsy camp, the uprising of Crematorium IV, which is about 100 yards away from them. They can hear the fire pit and the people screaming.”
The reunion of Lowy and Bar-On, 57 years after liberation, almost didn’t happen. Richard Lowy had produced a documentary on his father’s Holocaust experiences, called Leo’s Journey. (This film and a shorter one about the reunion are available at leosjourney.ca.) The program aired on the National Geographic Channel in Israel and Bar-On happened to see it. He didn’t recognize the older Lowy, who he knew only as “Lippa,” but when a photo of the younger Leopold flashed across the screen, Bar-On was astounded.
“He’s looking at the screen and saying, ‘It’s my Lippa, it’s my Lippa,’” Richard Lowy said. Bar-On, who credited Leo Lowy for helping him survive the Holocaust, made a few calls and, before long, the telephone rang in the Lowy condo in Richmond. By this time, Leo was experiencing some dementia and it took time for him to realize who he was speaking with.
A reunion was quickly planned and Bar-On flew to Vancouver, where TV cameras captured the emotional meeting. As Bar-On shared his recollections, Lowy’s memories were also sparked. Subsequently, the younger Lowy recorded hours of testimony at Bar-On’s home in Tel Aviv.
“Kalman has a crystal clear memory of dates, times, places,” said Lowy. “By the month, by the week, by the day, by the hour, by the minute of things that were going on.… The guards treated them like mice.”
The teenagers witnessed and overheard things that they then shared with others in their barracks, where they returned at night from the comparative comfort of the heated guard shack.
“It put them in a very unique situation, but still dangerous,” said Lowy. “Think about it. You’re in a guard shack with SS guards. You do something they don’t like, they beat the crap out of you. But they do it in such a way that they are not going to break your arm, they are not going to kill you, because you are a ‘Mengele twin.’”
The building where the boys were assigned was particularly central.
“Leopold and Kalman’s guard shack was right at the top of the camp, outside of the hospital, right beside Kanada [where valuables stolen from prisoners were stored], right beside Crematorium Number IV, and you are able to see and hear all the different comings and goings,” he said. “Kalman gives us an overview of an area of the camp, the hospital camp, that I have never really read before.”
Leopold protected Kalman by, for instance, covering for his friend at work when Kalman could not move an arm after being injected with an experimental substance.
Bar-On has provided videotaped testimony to Yad Vashem, said Lowy, but it is about 35 minutes long, like many other survivor testimonies.
“I have about 14 hours of testimony,” said Lowy, “which basically takes me back to the time he was born, what his family was like, what it was like going to the yeshivah.”
Organizations like Yad Vashem that collect survivor testimonies do not have the resources to go into the depth with each individual that Lowy did with Bar-On, he said.
“I’m not interviewing thousands of people,” he said. “I don’t see how it would be possible to get 14 hours of interviews from every single survivor. I think that would just be an incredibly difficult challenge.”
Individual stories, though, are critical to understanding the Holocaust experience, said Lowy, noting monographs written by people like Elie Wiesel and Primo Levi, the more than 100,000 hours of testimony assembled by the USC Shoah Foundation, which was founded by Steven Spielberg, and films such as Sophie’s Choice, The Pianist and Schindler’s List.
At the event last month, projected images and video footage illustrated the narrative, while Lowy spoke, accompanied by violinist Cameron Wilson and cellist Finn Manniche.
The event was presented by Ward McAllister and Michelle Kirkegaard of the development firm Ledingham McAllister, who are friends of Lowy’s and funded the production. Volunteers from Na’amat Canada helped with the logistics.
Max Czollek, left, speaks with Prof. Chris Friedrichs, after Czollek launched his new book here Jan. 19. (photo by Pat Johnson)
German attempts to create a cohesive national narrative into which newcomers must integrate is a mistake – and the role Jewish Germans play in this “Theatre of Memory” is especially problematic, according to Max Czollek, a provocative thinker who was hosted by the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival last month.
Czollek visited Vancouver Jan. 19, the only Canadian stop on a North American tour promoting the English translation of his book De-integrate: A Jewish Survival Guide for the 21st Century. He excoriated the German integration process as an ideological disaster.
“The only integration Germany has done well is the integration of old Nazis,” he said, explaining that about 99% of Nazi core perpetrators never met justice and, in fact, often succeeded in postwar Germany despite their wartime activities. By contrast, he notes in his book, those who challenged the Nazi regime were often viewed in the postwar context as politically untrustworthy: “[A]fter all, they had already revealed themselves as willing to resist the structures of the German state before.”
While the failure of the larger integration scheme is a theme of Czollek’s book, his main thesis is that Jews are being used to cover up the atrocities of the past. In the contemporary German narrative of integration, newcomers to the country are expected to assimilate into a vaguely defined “guiding culture” (Leitkultur) and not misbehave, Czollek told an audience in the Zack Gallery. But, despite that the vast majority of German Jews are migrants, too, that expectation is not imposed on them. Instead, Jewish Germans are assigned a different and unique role in a German narrative that seeks a return to a normality that was shattered by the Nazi era.
Positioning German Jews collectively as bit players in a larger narrative of redemption reduces them to a cover for the history of their own destruction, he argued: “Because, as long as there are Jews in Germany, then Germans can’t be Nazis.” He later said, “We don’t feel this is our function – making Germans feel good again.”
Czollek, who was born in East Berlin in 1987, two years before the reunification of Germany, explained the different postwar experiences of the tiny Jewish populations of East Germany and West Germany. Numerically, though, these experiences are overwhelmed by those of post-Soviet Jews: 90% of German Jews are migrants from the former Soviet Union or their descendants, he said. And these migrants (or, in the term used for their children and grandchildren, “postmigrants”) are excluded from the burdens placed on other newcomers, especially Muslims. In fact, said Czollek, Muslim immigrants play a role in this narrative, too, in which “good Germans” must now protect Jews against perceived threats from Muslims.
The author looks with a particularly jaundiced eye at German Jews who subscribe to this narrative, such as those who vote for the far-right Alternative for Germany party (AfD) based on anti-Muslim and anti-immigrant policies. “Maybe the next time the mosques are going to burn first, but then the synagogues are going to be next,” Czollek said. “We know if the Muslims won’t be able to live safe in Germany, then the Jews won’t either.”
The very idea of a German “guiding culture” is flawed, Czollek argues, not only because the unification of Germany in the 19th century brought together diverse tribes and groupings into what is now purveyed as a unitary nation, but because the postwar immigration of diverse peoples has made such a unified culture unworkable. “Because, given its current state of social diversity, arriving at an ethnically and culturally homogeneous Germany would simply require ethnic and cultural cleansing,” Czollek writes.
A central flaw in the integration narrative, he argues, is that, no matter how long someone named Mohammad has lived in Germany, they will be subject to different criteria of good citizenship. Neo-Nazis who commit arson against refugee shelters or march down the street chanting “Heil Hitler” are not accused of failing to integrate into the German culture, he noted.
“[A]t what point are you no longer considered an immigrant who refuses to integrate [Integrationsverweigerer], but simply a frustrated German?” he asks.
Czollek contends that the narrative of a prevailing German culture (and integration into it) has seeped from the far-right across the spectrum. “Not a single democratic party platform neglects to centre this term in discussions of social belonging,” he writes. “No discussion panels about migration are complete without someone underscoring the importance of integration.”
Czollek argues for a live-and-let-live approach, but suggests the advocates of integration aren’t interested.
“They can eat weisswurst with sweet mustard for lunch and drink at least one litre of beer a day,” he writes. “I have no problem with that and neither do my friends. And that’s precisely the point that fundamentally separates those of us who would defend a concept of radical diversity from those proponents of German guiding culture: we want to create a space in which one can be different without fear, while the other side wants to implement cultural criteria for belonging that by necessity exclude those who don’t align with their concept.”
The original German version of Czollek’s book was published in 2018, shortly after the far-right AfD had become the third-largest party in the Bundestag. Rather than spurring a backlash against extremism, other politicians took a page from the playbook, he argues, with the parties of the right, centre and left warning of the perils of nonintegrated newcomers.
Czollek views the AfD’s rise as a symptom as much as a cause – “Suddenly things everywhere are staining Nazi brown,” he writes – and he sees a different avenue for political success in the face of the far-right surge.
“I don’t believe Germany will win the fight against the New Right without the votes of (im)migrant, postmigrant, Jewish and Muslim citizens,” he writes. “And this critical – if perhaps unfamiliar – new alliance requires strong narratives, the willingness to accept self-criticism from all sides, and a political vision for a society beyond the current integration paradigm.”
Czollek has a doctorate from the Centre for Antisemitism Research at the Technical University of Berlin, has published books of poetry, and is a co-editor of Jalta, a journal of contemporary Jewish culture. He has been involved in political and multicultural theatre in Berlin for many years but with this, his first nonfiction book (translated into English by Jon Cho-Polizzi), he burst on the scene as a contentious public intellectual. The opposition to his work evoked not just political challenges but also public efforts to discredit him based on his identity as a patrilineal Jew.
Czollek’s presentation, in conversation with Markus Hallensleben, associate professor in the department of Central, Eastern and Northern European studies at the University of British Columbia, was opened by book festival director Dana Camil Hewitt. The main festival runs Feb. 11-16.
Yaron Komari, a resident at Dogwood Gardens, speaks at the development’s opening ceremony Jan. 10, as Vancouver Mayor Ken Sim looks on. (photo by Al Lau)
Yaron Komari grew up in Israel, served in the Israel Defence Forces and moved to Canada in 2009. He was pursuing a career as an apprentice electrician and was hopeful for the future when he was diagnosed with Type 2 diabetes in 2018. A year later, the diabetes progressed into serious neuropathy and his career was effectively halted.
“I had no financial safety net and soon found myself in tough times,” he said. “I quickly found myself living in a rooming house with drug addicts and prostitutes as my neighbours. I felt very unsafe. Just walking up the 12 stairs to my room became a daily challenge, never mind the chronic insomnia.”
Komari shared his story at the official opening Jan. 10 of Dogwood Gardens, an affordable housing development on West 59th Avenue near Cambie. The 138-unit building, part of the larger Cambie Gardens development, is a partnership between Tikva Housing Society, SUCCESS and the City of Vancouver.
“Even my doctor became concerned,” Komari recounted at the ceremony. “Without access to a kosher kitchen, my diabetes became unmanageable and further affected my overall health. I’m an observant, kosher Jew and my living situation simply added more stress to my everyday life.
“I never in my worst nightmares thought that I would live in an unbearable and unhealthy environment and rely on community generosity to help source kosher food and meals,” he said.
Komari knew of Tikva Housing, which has the mission of providing “access to innovative and affordable housing solutions for all those in the Jewish community who need it.” However, he thought that there were people in greater need.
“With the persuasion and the help of Tikva Housing and Jewish Family Services, I applied for housing,” he said. “You cannot even begin to imagine what I felt when I got the call from Tikva Housing that my application had been approved. There was no hope for me.… [But] the keys are now in my hand. I walked into my new home. I couldn’t even believe that was happening to me. It was emotionally overwhelming…. I have a fridge that I can store my food in. I have a kosher kitchen where I can prepare my own meals and I have the peace of mind that I am safe and secure. For the first time in years, I have slept through the night. Tikva Housing has changed my life. I’m proud of where I live…. My world feels more open and I no longer feel shame or embarrassed of where and how I live.”
Komari’s is just one of the lives positively affected by the opening of the new facility, which was made possible under the city’s inclusionary housing policy, which requires developers to provide social housing as part of large redevelopment projects. SUCCESS and Tikva will co-manage the facility, which also includes an amenity space, children’s play area, parking and storage. Of the 138 units, 30 are designated for Tikva and 108 for SUCCESS. There are studio apartments and one-, two- and three-bedroom units. About half the units are offered to tenants at 10% below market rents, while the rest are adjusted to income, based on provincial guidelines. The larger Cambie Gardens development, of which Dogwood Gardens is a part, will see a total of 540 affordable units when the project of more than 3,000 total apartments is completed on the 10-hectare (25-acre) site. The redevelopment is on the location of Vancouver Coastal Health’s former Pearson Dogwood complex, which housed adults with physical disabilities and seniors with complex needs.
Anat Gogo, Tikva’s executive director, told the Independent that about 90% of the homes designated for members of the Jewish community are now occupied, with the rest of the residents expected to move in within days. Earlier, she told the audience, which included elected officials and community leaders, that stable, affordable housing is a basic need that allows people to move from merely surviving to thriving.
“This project makes me feel like we can have a meaningful and long-lasting impact and actually make a difference in people’s lives,” she said. “At Tikva, we are committed to tikkun olam, repairing the world, and we do this one home at a time. We are committed to building community.”
Rhonda Sacks, chair of the board of directors of Tikva, also spoke, highlighting the power of partnerships.
“While Tikva and SUCCESS serve diverse populations, we share a common passion for supporting our communities and making a genuine difference in their lives,” she said. Sacks also offered special thanks to lead supporters, including the Diamond Foundation, the Ben and Esther Dayson Charitable Foundation, the Al Roadburg Foundation and the Ronald S. Roadburg Foundation.
“Dogwood Gardens is perfectly positioned to inspire meaningful connections and provide a strong sense of belonging,” said Sacks.
Supporters of Tikva Housing in one of the units at Dogwood Gardens on Jan. 10, left to right: Stephen Gaerber, Gord Kushner, Bernard Pinsky, Rory Richards, Anat Gogo, Ezra Shanken, Rhonda Sacks, Sheila Sontz and Daniella Givon. (photo by Al Lau)
Dogwood Gardens is not the first partnership between Tikva and SUCCESS. With other partners, the two agencies opened the 129-unit Diamond Residences (Storeys), in Richmond, six years ago. Last year, YWCA Metro Vancouver, the Association of Neighbourhood Houses of B.C. and Tikva opened xʷƛ̓əpicən, a 125-unit complex at Arbutus Centre. Tikva’s portfolio also includes the 32-unit Ben and Esther Dayson Residences, in south Vancouver’s River District, and Dany Guincher House, an 11-unit building for people at risk of homelessness and persons with disabilities who can live independently, which was Tikva’s first building. The house was built in 1970, purchased by Tikva in 2007 and began operations in 2008. With Dogwood Gardens now open, Tikva’s portfolio includes 128 units.
Currently under construction in Burnaby is the next Tikva initiative, Susana Cogan Place, which is named after the woman who led Tikva until her passing in 2017. This project will add another 20 units of affordable homes.
In addition, Tikva Housing has a rent subsidy program that provides eligible low-income singles and families with cash assistance towards their monthly rent, within available funding.
At the Dogwood Gardens opening, Vancouver Mayor Ken Sim was joined by city councilors Sarah Kirby-Yung, Rebecca Bligh and Christine Boyle.
Sim noted that he grew up about a half-kilometre away in what was “effectively affordable housing” and said this new housing complex means that “the next generation of Vancouverites who may not have a lot … can still live in an amazing area like this one.”
The project is part of sprawling changes along the Cambie corridor, including the Oakridge redevelopment and smaller projects that increase density along the thoroughfare. JWest, the redevelopment of the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver campus a few blocks to the northwest, is a major component of the changing face of the broader area, which has traditionally been home to many of Vancouver’s Jewish residents and community institutions.
“The City of Vancouver is committed to delivering much-needed quality housing while developing collaborative relationships with community partners,” said Sim. “We applaud the work of SUCCESS and Tikva, who have helped expand options for culturally appropriate housing across our city.”
Queenie Choo, chief executive officer of SUCCESS, chaired the opening ceremony and acknowledged other representatives of her organization, which is celebrating its 50th anniversary this year and has grown from a small charity in Chinatown to one of Canada’s largest social service agencies.
Lance Davis, chief executive officer of JNF Canada (photo from JNF Canada)
Noa Tishby, an Israeli who hit it big in Hollywood as an actor, writer and producer before bursting on the scene as an activist voice for Israel, will be in Vancouver June 29. She is the headliner for the first Negev Dinner in Vancouver since the pandemic.
The Negev Dinner is a tradition of the Jewish National Fund of Canada, with annual dinners taking place for decades in regions across the country.
Michael Sachs, executive director of JNF Pacific region, says that Tishby’s upcoming visit is a response to demand.
“A lot of people in the community really want to hear from her,” said Sachs. “The rising antisemitism, as well as the delegitimization of Israel – these are issues that are forefront in our community.”
Tishby is, he said, “one of the best spokespersons for the state of Israel and for the Jewish community at large.”
With her 2021 book, Israel: A Simple Guide to the Most Misunderstood Country on Earth, the Los Angeles-based Tishby placed herself firmly in the realm of show biz activist, but on a topic that many public figures avoid. (See jewishindependent.ca/tag/noa-tishby.) Her entertainment industry work includes appearances on Nip/Tuck, Big Love and NCIS, and she is the co-executive producer of the HBO series In Treatment, an adaptation of the Israeli series BeTipul.
“To be able to have her in Vancouver, we just couldn’t miss out on it,” said Sachs, adding that this young, dynamic woman has an appeal that can expand the reach of JNF and the Negev event.
“We are also working on student pricing and we want ‘angel’ tickets,” he said. “The idea is to get as many people in our community in front of her so they can hear her message.”
This dinner will not have an honouree like such events have had in the past. Part of that is simply the desire by the organization to try different things but it is also because, with JWest, the redevelopment of the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, and other projects, there are “a lot of asks” in the community right now, said Sachs.
While JNF has sent out “save the date” notices for June 29, the location is not yet set. The organizing committee is co-chaired by husband-and-wife team Mike and Lisa Averbach. The project to which proceeds of the event will be allocated is to be announced in the next few weeks.
While the June event will be the first JNF gala in Vancouver since the pandemic, some took place in other regions last year, said Lance Davis, chief executive officer of JNF Canada. He has witnessed some pent-up demand to celebrate with community again.
“When people get together during cocktails and they haven’t seen each other for such a long time, the hugs and the warmth – it’s wonderful,” he said.
During the pandemic, JNF held Negev “campaigns” – fundraising initiatives that did not involve in-person events. Despite the financial and social impacts of the shutdown, Davis said the organization’s revenues have rebounded to pre-pandemic levels.
“It’s a wonderful news story that we are bouncing back and moving in the right direction,” said Davis, who has been CEO of the national organization since 2017, following five years leading the Toronto region.
JNF Canada, like Jewish and pro-Israel individuals and organizations worldwide, is coming to terms with the changed political dynamic in Israel. Binyamin Netanyahu’s new coalition, frequently referred to as “the most right-wing government” in the country’s history, is shaking up the global discourse on the region. The resignation of Israel’s ambassador to Canada, announced last Saturday, is just one reaction in an uncertain new environment. Davis, like leaders of other organizations, is emphasizing neutrality and independence.
“I just want to state unequivocally that JNF Canada is nonpolitical and nonpartisan and, as such, we are going to continue to do our work regardless of who is in government,” he said. “We are mission-driven and that means simply building the foundations for Israel’s future. We will continue to help the land and the people of Israel as we have done for decades with left, right and centrist governments. Nothing has changed. Our resolve to enhance the lives of Israel’s citizens is not impacted by the current regime and this is the time for Diaspora Jewry to communicate with our extended family in Israel that we are indeed a family and as such we will always be there for them.”
Lance Davis, chief executive officer of JNF Canada (photo from JNF Canada)
For all the ink spilled on the subject, Davis thinks the supporters of JNF Canada are sophisticated enough to understand the dynamics.
“For those people who say, I can’t be a part of this because I don’t support the government of Israel, I just hope that we can have a conversation with them,” he said. “You need not worry that one penny of that money goes to the government…. It’s only for charitable purposes and I think that if we are given the chance to explain this, people will understand we are nonpolitical and nonpartisan.”
The Israeli political climate may be a new variable, but JNF has not been without its critics over the years, some of whom accuse it of promoting Israeli “colonialism.”
“There is no question that there’s a whole host of anti-Israel parties who are taking an adversarial position,” he said. “I just wish that they would actually look at what we’re doing because is building a PTSD and health centre that serves all citizens, Jewish, Arab, Christian, Muslim, everybody – is that colonialism? Building a home for abused women with nowhere to go? It’s literally a lifesaving asset and, rest assured, Jewish Israelis and Arab Israelis will be using this facility – how is this colonialism? What exactly is it that they are protesting against?”
At a Negev Dinner in Vancouver a few years ago, which was raising funds to improve a facility for the most vulnerable sick kids in Israel, Davis saw protesters outside.
“I showed up at the dinner and I said, I wish these people understood what they were protesting against,” he recalled. “Because what you guys are doing is building a resource for the sickest kids, Jewish, Arab, Christian, Muslim – they’re all Israelis, they’re all welcome at this facility. Do they even understand what it is they’re upset about? And shame on them for protesting your efforts to build this facility for the most vulnerable children.”
One new initiative that Davis is particularly excited about is JNF Canada’s Climate Solutions Prize, a competition among Israeli researchers to fund breakthrough research focused on combating climate change.
“We’ve made an effort to raise $1 million a year over the next number of years,” he said. “We have a blue ribbon panel of scientists and engineers and businesspeople who review these researchers’ proposals.”
Last October, they presented the first awards, totaling $1 million US to the leaders of three research teams. Ben-Gurion University’s Prof. Itzhak Mizrahi and his team are working to ameliorate the methane emissions caused by cows. Dr. Malachi Noked of Bar-Ilan University seeks to reduce global emissions by improving ways to store renewable energy safely, efficiently, economically and in quickly accessible forms. Prof. Avner Rothschild of the Technion is working to produce green hydrogen through electrolysis of water.
Recipients are scientists who are well advanced in their work but need a boost in funding to achieve a breakthrough.
“This is the largest climate solutions prize that’s offered in Israel, by a long shot,” said Davis. “There are prizes to encourage green technologies, but in terms of the size and the scope, we are by far and away the largest prize.”
And, at this point, it’s an exclusively Canadian project. He hopes that other JNF organizations – there are about 40 countries with similar national bodies – will jump on board and make the prize a bigger success.
Israelis are renowned for successes in financial technology, cyber- and agri-tech, said Davis. “But, in terms of climate solutions, they really haven’t had a home run yet,” he said. “We felt that we need to give people a little push to get them over the top.”
Jewish National Fund of Canada was formally established in the late 1960s, but the iconic symbol of Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael, Jewish National Fund, the pushke, or blue box, has been in Jewish households in Canada and around the world for a century. The tin has been used for collecting coins that were forwarded to local offices around the world and combined to help build the nascent yishuv and then the state of Israel, beginning by planting trees and then expanding into all range of development projects.
Davis explained that JNF Canada is fully independent and not structurally connected with the Israeli organization.
“We are not a subsidiary,” he said. “We are not answerable to any other charity.… We get to decide what projects we take on. Canadians give money to things that they want to support and we bundle all that money from coast to coast and we take on projects.”
JNF Canada works with Keren Kayemeth LeIsrael on some initiatives but works with other charities on a range of undertakings.
“We, the Canadians, decide what we want to do and the Israeli entities are our agents,” he said. “They do the work for us. People often … have it reversed [thinking that] Israelis tell us what we need to do and we just do it. No, it’s the opposite. They work for us and that’s the way it should happen.”
Started in 1948, Negev dinners have taken place, usually annually, in Vancouver, Edmonton, Calgary, Winnipeg, Windsor, London, Hamilton, Toronto, Ottawa, Montreal, and Atlantic Canada. The name comes from the fact that the earliest dinners benefited projects in the Negev Desert. JNF Canada now funds projects throughout Israel, but the name has stuck.
“I think that when Canadians think about JNF a few things come to mind: trees, blue boxes and the Negev Dinner,” said Davis.
Avi Benlolo will screen a film at Beth Israel on Feb. 13. (PR photo)
There is a fundamental disconnect between what is happening in the Middle East and what observers in Europe and North America perceive, according to Avi Benlolo, founder and chairman of the Abraham Global Peace Initiative. He aims to close that gap, and will be in Vancouver next month to bring his message – and a new documentary film – to West Coast audiences.
“Peace is unfolding in the Middle East,” Benlolo told the Independent. “The Abraham Accords have completely revolutionized Israel’s relationship with some of the neighbouring countries like the [United Arab Emirates], Bahrain, Morocco and so on. This new development hasn’t yet registered here in the West.”
On university campuses and in the social movements of Europe and North America, he said, the narrative remains mired in the decades-old conflict and tired rhetoric of “apartheid,” “colonization” and BDS, the movement to boycott, divest from and sanction the state of Israel.
“The truth of the matter is that that rhetoric isn’t rhetoric in the Middle East,” Benlolo said. “In the Middle East, BDS is nonexistent. You now have trade in the billions of dollars between Israel and its Arab neighbours, so clearly BDS has lost.”
The film that Benlolo produced and directed, The Future of Israel and its Defenders, approaches the issues through the lenses of experts, military strategists, entrepreneurial leaders, journalists and current and former political leaders.
“The message I’m trying to transmit,” he said, “is one really of hope for change.… If we are reinforcing that message that this is happening, that will help build on the peace process.”
A growing global realization of Mideast peace will also help reduce antisemitism and empower Jews, especially young people, everywhere, Benlolo hopes.
The film will be screened, and Benlolo will participate in a question-and-answer session, at Congregation Beth Israel Feb. 13, 7 p.m., in a celebration of Israel’s 75th birthday.
Benlolo founded the Abraham Global Peace Initiative after many years of working in the Jewish communal sector, including as chief executive officer of Friends of Simon Wiesenthal Centre for Holocaust Studies. AGPI became a registered charity in late 2021.
While there are many Jewish and Zionist organizations in Canada, Benlolo said his is unique.
“There is no voice for Canadian Jews internationally,” he said. “We are taking the Canadian voice global and working with the United Nations, working with the [European Union], working with multiple leaders around the world. Antisemitism and defamation of Israel is a transnational phenomenon. The swastika that you see painted on a school wall is not just localized, it’s being motivated globally.
“We are also saying, we as Canadians can stand up for ourselves,” Benlolo continued. “Canada itself is an incredible brand globally…. What AGPI is doing is optimizing the Canadian brand and we’re doing it very successfully. Every two minutes – I’m not exaggerating – there is a subscriber onto our website from somewhere on the planet, Italy, Brazil. Every two minutes. That’s because people love the Canadian brand, they love everything that we are saying, so we can be, as Canadians, an international voice with quite tremendous strength.”
While Benlolo is hoping that the Abraham Accords mute some of the condemnation Israel experiences on the world stage, defending Israel’s rights internationally may be entering a new phase, he said. The old tropes are being replaced with the phrase “Israel’s most right-wing government ever,” including in mainstream media sources.
“It’s a challenge, I’m not going to kid you,” said Benlolo. “The thing is, the media is never a fan of Israel, particularly here in Canada, outside of the National Post and maybe the Jewish [community] media. They are using any opportunity to grab hold and to make Israel look bad. They love it.”
The characterization of Israel’s new government clouds the reality, he argued. Israelis who voted for right-wing parties did so mainly on security grounds, he said, because they are deeply concerned about terrorism.
“That has driven them to move to the right,” he said, adding that Israeli society in general “is fairly secular, is not right-wing and is very pro-human rights.” He noted that the new Knesset features the country’s first openly gay speaker.
“Just because you’ve got this government right now that’s made up of a coalition doesn’t mean that it represents Israeli society and it doesn’t mean that it’s everybody in Israel that believes in this. That needs to be articulated as well,” said Benlolo. “Finally, we’re going to put pressure to bear as a Jewish community and friends of Israel, we’re going to continue to pressure Israel to make sure that it stays the course and stays true to tikkun olam.”
More details, and tickets for the event, which is presented by Beth Israel and the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, are available at bethisrael.ca.
Canadians and Americans are similar, but different. To see this obvious statement in practical terms, two books – by two authors who will speak in Vancouver next month – provide an entertaining and educational contrast.
Andrew Kirsch and Douglas London are retired spies. Well, the term “spy” is, they both readily admit, a bit laden for a job that Kirsch characterizes as a lot of “hurry up and wait” and that London describes as “hours and hours of routine, and a few moments of adrenaline.”
Kirsch is a Canadian and author of I Was Never Here: My True Canadian Story of Coffees, Codenames and Covert Operations in the Age of Terrorism. London is American and author of The Recruiter: Spying and the Lost Art of American Intelligence. They will present as part of the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival, in an event dubbed “Jews in Trench Coats,” on Feb. 13.
Kirsch, who grew up in Toronto, left a job in the financial sector in London, England, after the 2005 terror attacks in that city and joined the Canadian Security Intelligence Services, CSIS. He describes himself as “part of a post-9/11 wave of civically minded Canadians who had left our day jobs to do our part in the age of terrorism.”
London’s career in the field was longer, symmetrically spanning 17 years on either side of 9/11, which is, obviously, the Western world’s iconic intelligence failure of the current era.
In the United States, the FBI is the domestic security service, much like our RCMP, while the CIA works almost exclusively outside the country. Similarly, in Israel, the Mossad deals with foreign intelligence and covert activities, while Shin Bet manages internal security. “In Canada, we have one organization [CSIS], and it’s responsible for covering the globe while operating largely domestically,” writes Kirsch.
The lack of awareness around CSIS is one of the reasons Kirsch wrote his book. If the CIA knocks on your door, many people around the world would know to be instantly on alert. If CSIS knocks on a Canadian’s door, Kirsch admits, it usually requires a quick spiel about what CSIS is and what it does. He also wrote the book because, when he and most of the other agents he knows first got interested, there was little to read on the subject of what they might expect.
If most Canadians don’t know what CSIS is, new Canadians can be expected to know even less. The author shares a cute anecdote about how he shorthands his role for Arabic speakers.
“The Arabic term for intelligence service is Mukhābarāt,” he writes. Obviously, somebody from an Arabic speaking country might understandably be anxious when someone knocks on the door and declares themselves representatives of the security service.
“I’d simply say, ‘Canadian Mukhābarāt. Nice Mukhābarāt.’ That might get a laugh and a foot in the door,” he said.
In typical Canadian fashion, Kirsch downplays the drama. He’s no James Bond.
“These aren’t high-stakes negotiations over baccarat and cocktails at a casino. It’s much less glamorous. I was in the coffee and conversations business,” he writes. Nevertheless, he charms with amusing anecdotes, foibles and practical jokes (he and his former colleagues are serious and professional, he insists, but they need to blow off steam). One gets to know the man and the organization.
While Kirsch is modest in speaking of his work and that of CSIS, he makes their significance clear.
“Canada is one of the safest countries in the world. This is not because we don’t face threats, but because we do an admirable job of protecting our citizens against them,” he writes. “That is how law enforcement and intelligence agencies tend to work. If we do our job, you won’t know we were ever needed in the first place.”
One of the most notable incidents in recent history when the work of CSIS did hit the front pages was the foiled Toronto 18 plot in 2006, when a cadre of radicalized Canadians plotted to explode truck bombs in southern Ontario. That was a disaster that didn’t happen because of intelligence, but Kirsch acknowledges tragedies where intelligence failed.
In 2014, for example, Michael Zehaf-Bibeau shot and killed Cpl. Nathan Cirillo, a soldier who was standing guard at the National War Memorial, and then stormed Parliament Hill but was killed before he could reach the heart of our democracy.
And just because Canadians have been blessedly fortunate not to suffer more terrorism doesn’t mean Canadians aren’t involved in some of the horrors we see abroad. A Vancouverite was convicted in absentia for involvement in a suicide bomb attack on Israeli tourists in Burgas, Bulgaria, in 2012. Five Israelis and the bus driver were killed and more than 35 other Israelis injured.
Kirsch admits he was worn down by the bureaucracy of the job, but his decision to leave the agency was based on family obligations, when his wife became pregnant. He clearly holds CSIS and his former colleagues in great esteem.
London’s reflections are not so kind. He calls the CIA in the last couple of decades “a cult of personality.”
“The senior ranks became an ever more homogenous collection cut from the same mold, focused more on ambition than the mission, the organization, or the workforce,” writes London. “While there were thankfully brilliant exceptions, the cadre had drunk their own Kool-Aid as to their own brilliance and worth.”
London also paints a more dramatic picture than his Canadian counterpart – not surprising, given the lopsided size and prominence of their respective organizations in the world.
There is cajoling involved in recruiting people to the CIA. One of the crucial tasks of a successful operations officer is determining a person’s motivations. To one potential recruit, London said, “It was Allah’s will that we meet … so we can together accomplish something bigger than ourselves.” In this case, it was an appeal to religious and national pride, not material reward. In other cases, material reward was enveloped in a person’s (usually a man’s) sense of providing for family, in which case London would emphasize that the “ability to contribute modestly to your family’s well-being” was something that would be undertaken by a good family man, not a traitor to his country.
London writes about antisemitism he encountered from among colleagues – especially fellow recruits early in his career, many of whom had never met a New Yorker, let alone a Jew. Both authors write of keeping their Jewishness under the radar. Occasionally, a throwaway comment could still stun.
Kirsch was meeting with a Sunni Muslim who was ranting about his hatred of Shia Muslims.
“And he rolled back into his seat and he stroked his big bushy beard and said, ‘You know, Andrew, they are worse than the Jews.’
“I don’t think I’ve ever felt more Jewish than in that moment,” writes London.
In an amusing observation near the end of his book, London claims people in his business are notorious yentas.
“It’s a pity really that confidentiality considerations prevent the creation of a People magazine, Us Weekly or TMZ program for the agency. Perhaps ironic, but the very same people hired to protect our nation’s most guarded national secrets are absolutely the biggest gossips.”
London proves this in a book that is as juicy as CIA censors would allow.
Jews in Trench Coats, featuring London and Kirsch, takes place at 6 p.m., Monday, Feb. 16. Tickets are $18. The JCC Jewish Book Festival runs Feb. 11-16, with free and ticketed events for all ages. Details at jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.
Dr. Larry Barzelai chaired the recent Canadian Physicians for the Environment climate conference. (photo from Larry Barzelai)
We can recycle everything possible, drive electric vehicles and take other steps to ameliorate our carbon footprints. At some point, though, says Dr. Larry Barzelai, we need to address our culture of consumption because we are simply using more resources than the planet can sustain.
Barzelai, chair of the B.C. branch of Canadian Association of Physicians for the Environment (CAPE), spoke to the Independent following a conference he chaired on climate issues. The third annual event, held entirely virtually, brought together doctors, nurses and other medical personnel to discuss climate and the environment from a specifically health-related perspective.
“It’s a physicians organization,” said Barzelai. “So people who tend to be most interested are doctors. But we’re always trying to expand it into other healthcare professionals.”
Interested people outside the profession are welcome to join, he said.
“It’s a general information conference to appeal to people that don’t know very much about environment or climate issues and people that are well-versed,” he explained. “We’re hoping there will be something in the conference for both those groups.”
Topics included “radical overconsumption, environmental genocide, economics and de-growth,” mobilizing climate action within the medical community, the impacts of food systems on the climate, and strategic approaches to successful advocacy campaigns. Canadian filmmaker, broadcaster and activist Avi Lewis gave a closing presentation.
Barzelai retired from his practice as a family physician in June of last year but still does work in seniors facilities including the Louis Brier Home and Hospital. He was pleased that, with the exception of Nunavut, the conference had representation from all provinces and territories.
The conference took place under the auspices of the continuing professional development department of the University of British Columbia and, while it is a national conference, most of the members of the steering committee are from the West Coast.
The October event was the third annual conference and Barzelai laughed about the fact that they had thought they were breaking new technological ground when they began planning for the first gathering. Believing that too many people spend too much time and resources flying, with deleterious impacts on the climate, they envisioned a virtual conference, or possibly a hybrid version with hubs in Vancouver and Toronto where locals could attend in person. By the time the inaugural event was nearing, the entire world had adopted virtual meetings (as well as religious services, seders and just about every other kind of interaction).
While Barzelai has thrown himself into the climate issue in recent years, he calls himself a “Johnny-come-lately” to the topic.
“I’m a late joiner,” he admitted. “A lot of the people in the organization have been doing this all their lives [and] are really dedicated people.”
Barzelai began reading and thinking more deeply about climate issues after encountering the American environmental author and activist Bill McKibben at a conference several years ago. He was particularly impacted by McKibben’s book Eaarth: Making a Life on a Tough New Planet.
Barzelai explained why McKibben spelled the book (and the planet) “Eaarth.”
“It’s changing and it’s changing rapidly and he says the expectations that seasons would be similar and that you would be able to predict rainfalls and temperatures on a fairly regular basis, with some exclusions, year after year – now that’s all gone out the window,” said Barzelai. “It’s a different world. That’s why he is calling it by a different name. He says, with a lot of work and a lot of luck, maybe we can create a new world that is somewhat akin to our old world, but it’s never going to be the same. We are going down a new direction here in a future that’s undefined and we’ve got to be careful and not let climate change get too far ahead of us.”
At the recent conference, Barzelai was struck by the message that, even as humans are taking these issues more seriously, we are still not getting to the core problem.
“Two of our speakers talked about consumption, that we can recycle as much as we want and drive as many battery-operated cars as we want but, at some point, we have to reduce consumption,” he said. “Even if we were as green as can be, we are still utilizing more resources than the earth can put out, so reducing consumption has to be a big part of this. It’s a tough topic because our whole society is based on consumption. But a lot of people think that we’re not going to get anywhere with climate change issues unless there is a general reduction of consumption in First World societies.”
Another issue to which Barzelai urged people to pay attention is corporate “greenwashing,” a topic addressed at the conference by Prof. Calvin Sanborn of the University of Victoria.
“That’s a big, big issue,” said Barzelai. “The fossil fuel companies are saying that they are greening and changing but, in reality, they’re just trying to find ways to keep doing what they’re doing and they don’t really want to change.”
Due to university copyright issues, recordings of the conference are not publicly available, but more information about CAPE is online at cape.ca.
Toby Rubin was invested as the new president of CHW Vancouver on Oct. 16. (photo by Sid Akselrod)
A vast amount of progress has been made in gender equality in recent decades, but organizations where women come together for philanthropic work and social connections remain desirable and necessary, says Toby Rubin, the new president of CHW Vancouver.
Founded by Jewish women in 1917, after a visit from Hadassah founder Henrietta Szold, CHW started out as Hadassah Organization of Canada. In 1921, Canadian Hadassah affiliated with World WIZO and became known Hadassah-WIZO Organization of Canada (later condensed to Canadian Hadassah-WIZO). CHW defines itself as a non-political, non-partisan, national network of dedicated volunteers who believe that excellence and advancement of education, healthcare and social services transcend politics, religion and national boundaries.
Rubin has been a volunteer with the local chapter of the organization for years and was invested as the president at an event Oct. 16 at the Richmond Country Club. In an interview with the Independent, she attempted to dispel some misconceptions.
First and foremost, she said, is the concept that CHW “is a bubbe organization.”
“We have really changed,” she said. A new chapter of 25-to-40-year-old women – including Rubin’s daughter and a cadre of new leaders who were centre-stage at the installation luncheon – has launched and already held their first fundraising event. They raised $5,000 for JOLT, a leadership development curriculum being developed by Young Judaea Canada.
Another misconception, Rubin said, is that all funds from CHW’s philanthropy go to Israel. Rubin and a group of Canadian activists have just returned from a tour of Hadassah projects in Israel, but she stressed that local and Canadian projects are also supported by the chapter’s work. Among the initiatives the group supports is SOS, Starting Over Safely, for victims of domestic violence; scholarships for an LGBTQ+ kids’ camp; and Franny’s Fund.
The latter program was launched by Rebecca Snukal, a Calgary defence lawyer with two decades of experience navigating the legal system and social safety net through some emotionally and administratively perilous cases. But when she and her own family were rocked by crisis, she came to understand how unwieldy the system is – even people with expertise in the field have challenges accessing the legal and psychological supports they require. Snukal was the guest speaker at the October event.
Something that Rubin especially wants to dispel is the idea that CHW’s work is accessible only to Jews. The foremost example, she said, comes from Hadassah Medical Centre in Israel, where triage is based on medical need, to the extent that injured terrorists have been treated based on the severity of their condition alongside victims of their attack.
Also at the meeting, Daniella Givon, a past president, was honoured for her many years of commitment to the organization and the broader community. The meeting also expressed gratitude to outgoing presidents Stephanie Rusen and Sasha Gerson.
Daniella Givon, left, and Sasha Gerson. Givon is a past president of CHW and Gerson is one of the outgoing presidents this year, along with Stephanie Rusen. (photo by Sid Akselrod)
In addition to her role with CHW, Rubin is co-executive director of Kehila Society of Richmond, which connects Jewish people in Richmond with one another and with businesses, health and social service agencies and community resources. She is also a board member of Jewish Seniors Alliance and Better at Home committee of the City of Richmond.
Rubin comes to CHW naturally – her mother, Linda Hilford, is a member and both her grandmothers, Vera Himelfarb and Rae Moss, were involved on the Prairies back in the day.
The enthusiasm Rubin and other members of the local chapter exhibit is a reflection, she said, of exciting changes at the national level where, under the fresh leadership of national chief executive officer Lisa Colt-Kotler, the organization has seen dramatic progress in the past couple of years.
“She’s just really pumped energy into it and she’s updated it, and is working at making us more mainstream,” Rubin said of Colt-Kotler. Technology has been a boon, she added, allowing members from across the country to conveniently meet regularly without getting on a plane.
Times have changed from when a large proportion of Canadian women did not work outside the home. But those social and economic changes have not altered one fundamental need, said Rubin.
“We are really about bringing women together, to empower them in their philanthropic needs and introduce them and network them with other women,” she said. “We just want them to meet each other, be there, support each other, share their resources. Ultimately, what brought me to this organization 30 years ago – aside from the fact that I have grandparents and a mom who were involved and I love Israel – was women. The ceiling has broken in those 30 years but it’s still there and we need to be there for each other.”
For decades, CHW was most closely associated in the public mind with Hadassah Bazaar, a massive undertaking that ended about 15 years ago. The explosive growth of thrift stores, combined with the immense resources required to execute the annual event, led to the decision to end the tradition. But Rubin said a new initiative is soon to launch nationally that nods to that history – possibly an online version of the bazaar or something similar. Plans are in development.
Things have come a long way, but Rubin said expectations have grown in some ways and getting together with women experiencing similar things is no less valuable than it was in her mother’s or her grandmothers’ time.
“I think women still have a long way to go and we need to support each other and be there for each other, lift each other up,” she said. “I’m trying to be a mom and I’m trying to do a job and I can’t be Superwoman and [it’s good] to know that’s OK – nobody is. I think that’s truly, truly important.”
Flame Towers, in the capital city Baku, reflect the forward-looking economy and the ancient Zoroastrian roots of the Azerbaijani people. (photo by Pat Johnson)
It is a Muslim-majority country where Jews proudly draw visitors’ attention to the fact that their synagogues and day schools receive government funding and require no security. It is a majority-Shiite country with a primarily Turkic population, where Turkish flags wave alongside Azerbaijani standards. Yet, among its closest allies is Israel, which a survey indicates is the second most admired country among its citizens. It provides 40% of Israel’s oil and receives vital security and defence cooperation from the Jewish state. One of the country’s greatest modern heroes is a Jewish soldier who died defending the country in 1992.
Azerbaijan is an enigma that defies assumptions, especially when it comes to its Jewish citizens, who have experienced almost nothing but neighbourliness from their Azerbaijani compatriots for two millennia.
Along with a small number of other Canadian journalists and community activists, I was a guest last month of the Network of Azerbaijani Canadians during an intensive weeklong immersion in the country, including its Jewish present and past.
I won’t pretend I didn’t have to Google Azerbaijan to place it alongside its Caucasus neighbours Armenia and Georgia, between the Black and Caspian seas, inauspiciously bordered by two rogue nations, Iran and Russia. Like many people, my knowledge of Azerbaijan was limited to its 30-plus-year conflict with Armenia over the disputed Karabakh region, a conflict that has led to allegations of war crimes, ethnic cleansing and atrocities on both sides.
We traveled to Karabakh, a place of ghostly, abandoned, war-destroyed cities and countrysides plagued by an estimated million landmines. Helmeted workers pace slowly through what were once farms in the almost unimaginably Sisyphean task of demining a half-billion square metres of land. (Israeli drones and artificial intelligence are helping the process.) We visited cemeteries and monuments, drove highways lined for kilometres with portraits of war dead.
In a distinct counterpoint to this carnage, we visited the country’s Jewish residents and learned of the history of Jews and non-Jews in this place, a story of almost unprecedented fraternity unusual for any country, not least a majority Muslim society in a place where ethnic and territorial conflicts, and the ebb and flow of empires, has conspired against peace.
A history of diversity
Azerbaijan was a deviation on the standard Silk Road route, and so people were long familiar with those from the west and the east. But its economy exploded in the latter half of the 19th century, when oil was discovered. By 1901, the region, part of the Russian Empire, was producing fully half of the world’s oil.
This ancient and modern history brought waves of Jews, beginning in biblical times. The oldest communities of Jews in Azerbaijan are known as Mountain Jews, or Kavkazi Jews, whose Persian-Jewish language is called Juhuri. Neither Ashkenazi nor Sephardi, the Mountain Jews maintain some Mizrahi traditions and their practices are heavily influenced by kabbalah. They trace their presence back to the Babylonian exile following the destruction of the First Temple, in 586 BCE, but these ancient communities have been joined in more recent times by other migrants.
Jews from neighbouring Georgia, where communities have also lived since the Babylonian exile, migrated to Azerbaijan during the first oil boom, in the late 19th century. After the 1903 and 1905 Kishinev pogroms sent terrified Jews from across the Russian Empire fleeing to the New World and elsewhere, a group of Ashkenazim moved from throughout the empire to Azerbaijan, drawn by its reputation for intercultural harmony.
Today, Mountain Jews make up about two-thirds of the country’s Jewish population. (Ballpark estimates are that there are 30,000 Jews in Azerbaijan.) Most Mountain Jews – 100,000 to 140,000 – now live in Israel and there is a significant population in the United States. Those who remain, however, deflect questions about why they have not made aliyah or migrated to Western countries.
“This is my homeland. Why should I leave?” asked Arif Babayev, the leader of the Jewish community in the city of Ganja, adding: “I don’t know what antisemitism is. I’ve never experienced it.”
The community of Qırmızı Qəsəbə, or Red Town, has been known as “Jerusalem of the Caucasus” and also as “the last shtetl in Europe.” It is said to be the only all-Jewish (or almost-all-Jewish community) outside Israel. The streets of the mountain village, in the northeast region called Quba, were quiet on a November Sunday. Many of the people who call the village home actually spend most of the year working in the capital city Baku, returning in summer to what amount to summer homes. The older community members and a few families stay year-round.
Three synagogues in the town survived the Soviet years – two still operating as congregations and one transformed into an excellent museum with original artifacts and in-depth exploration available on interactive screens where congregants once davened. The two synagogues, active on Shabbat and holidays, are intimate, magnificent structures. The Six Dome Synagogue, dating to 1888, was used as a warehouse and as a shmatte factory during the Soviet period and was restored and reopened for use in 2005.
The Six Dome Synagogue, which dates from 1888. (photo by Pat Johnson)Interior of the Six Dome Synagogue, which was restored to use by the Jewish community in 2005. (photo by Pat Johnson)
Throughout history, the Jews of the area worked in viticulture (their Muslim neighbours were ostensibly forbidden from alcohol-related tasks, though this is not a country with a large strictly observant religious population), tobacco growing, hide tanning, shoemaking, carpet weaving, fishing and the cultivation of the dry root of the madder plant, which is used in dyeing textiles and leather.
In the 1930s, there was a Stalinist crackdown on Judaism, but circumcision, kosher slaughter and underground Torah study survived. Since the end of the Soviet era and the dawn of independence, in 1991, Jewish life has both thrived and shrunk – many emigrated, but those who remained have revivified their cultural and religious roots.
In wealthy and modern Baku, signs of a flourishing Jewish community are found at two government-funded Jewish schools, each with about 100 students. They follow a government-created Jewish studies curriculum that includes Hebrew, Jewish history and tradition, as well as the official curriculum of the Azerbaijani education ministry. Like so many other places throughout the country, the school is festooned with photographs of the current president and his late father and predecessor.
The school’s leadership note that there is no security outside the institution, unlike in France or even Israel. The school is in a complex that includes a non-Jewish school and the students compete together in intermurals. Jewish and non-Jewish students celebrate the Jewish holidays together.
Nearby, the Sephardi Georgian congregation and the Ashkenazi synagogue share a building that was funded by the national government. The two sanctuaries are on different floors, each with their distinctive internal architecture and warm, inviting sanctuaries.
Ambassador optimistic
George Deek was the youngest ambassador in Israel’s history when appointed to head the embassy in Baku, in 2018. An Arab-Christian from a prominent Eastern Orthodox family in Jaffa, Deek was a Fulbright scholar at Georgetown University and held previous posts at Israeli missions in Nigeria and Norway. He is also, he noted, the Israeli diplomat geographically closest to Tehran.
The ambassador sees parallels between Azerbaijan and Israel, which are both young countries made up of people who are used to being bullied by their neighbours. Both peoples understand what it is to be small and to struggle to preserve one’s own culture, he said.
In addition to the large swath of Israel’s oil supply that comes from Azerbaijan, there is growing trade and cooperation between the countries across a range of sectors. In addition to strategic partnerships, they are sharing agriculture and water technologies in conjunction with the Arava Institute for Environmental Studies, in southern Israel. An Israeli company is building a Caspian desalinization plant and Israeli drip irrigation technology is being applied to Azerbaijani farms.
Tourism is a growing sector and Israel is a significant market: by next year, there will be eight flights weekly between Baku and Tel Aviv on the Azerbaijani state carrier, as well as regularly scheduled tourist flights on Israir.
Deek shared the results of a survey that seemed to provide proof of the historical and anecdotal things we had been hearing about the Azerbaijani connection not only to their Jewish neighbours but to the Jewish state. In a poll measuring Azerbaijanis’ positive opinions about other countries, Turkey came first and Israel second.
Despite all this upbeat news, and despite the fact that Israel has had an embassy in Baku almost since Azerbaijan gained independence, the diplomatic mission was not reciprocated, even as trade and person-to-person connections expanded. There is a range of geopolitical explanations for the lack of an Azerbaijani embassy in Israel and Deek told our group he hoped that Azerbaijan would soon be able to open one there. And, just a few minutes after we left our meeting with the ambassador, our guide received a phone call – Azerbaijan’s parliament had just approved a resolution to open an embassy in Israel.
The decision, after all this time, is due to a confluence of events. There had been fear of an Iranian backlash to more overt relations between Azerbaijan and Israel, but global disgust over the Iranian regime’s crackdown on anti-government protesters may have diminished Azerbaijani concerns. The close relationship between Azerbaijan and Turkey was probably another factor. With Turkish-Israeli relations back on a somewhat even keel after a chilly period, the time may have seemed right. With the long-simmering Karabakh conflict now concluded, as far as Azerbaijan is concerned, by the 2020 war that returned the region to Azerbaijani control, the country may be less wary of making waves among Muslim allies. That fear would likely be additionally assuaged by the Abraham Accords, which make warm Azerbaijani-Israeli relations less remarkable than they might have been just a few years ago. (Azerbaijan’s anti-Israel voting record at the United Nations is still a disappointment that some observers hope changes as ties grow.)
The tight relationship between Azerbaijan and Israel is, of course, viewed by Iran as a Zionist plot. Iran has both internal demographic and external security concerns about Azerbaijan. There are almost twice as many ethnic Azerbaijanis within the borders of Iran – about 15 million – than there are in the country of Azerbaijan, and the Islamic revolutionary regime doesn’t want any nationalist rumblings. Beyond this, the very existence of a secular, pluralist Azerbaijan stands as an affront to Iran. Azerbaijan is a majority Shi’ite country, like Iran. It is geographically and demographically small and, in the imagination of Iranian fundamentalists, it should be the next domino in the ayatollahs’ plan for regional domination. Instead, despite the familial ties across the Azerbaijani-Iranian border, intergovernmental relations are frigid.
What is it about Azerbaijan?
A new embassy. Burgeoning trade and tourism with Israel. Centuries of good relations between Jews and non-Jews. A level of comfort and security unknown to Jews in almost any other country, certainly any Muslim-majority place. What is it about Azerbaijan?
I asked a few people – religious leaders, a member of parliament, Jews and non-Jews – what the secret sauce is for the Azerbaijanis’ exceptional relations with their Jewish neighbours. No one had a pat answer.
It was people-to-people contact, one person told me. There was never a ghetto; Jews were integrated and part of a larger multicultural society. One theory is that, more recently, there have been lots of Jewish teachers in the school system, so Azerbaijanis get to know and respect Jewish people growing up. Another explanation is that Azerbaijanis view their national identity above their religious or other particular identities, so religious differences are not as divisive as in many places – a factor probably accentuated by decades of Soviet official atheism.
Rabbi Zamir Isayev, who leads the Georgian Jewish congregation in Baku, doesn’t have a simple explanation for why Azerbaijan, among the countries of the world, seems to be so good for the Jews. It’s simply in the nature of the Azerbaijani people, he says.
Azerbaijani history celebrates a number of notable Jews. The Caspian Black Sea Oil Company, which was central to the creation of the region’s dominant resource sector, was founded by Alphonse Rothschild, a French Jew, and other Jews have been involved in a range of resource and other sectors over the years.
In the short-lived government of the first independent republic of Azerbaijan, 1918 to 1920, the minister of health was a Jewish pediatrician, Dr. Yevsey Gindes. That government was also the first democracy in the Muslim world and among the first in the world to grant women the franchise. Like many countries that emerged from the collapse of the Russian Empire, Azerbaijan was quickly subsumed into the new Soviet Union.
Lev Landau, Azerbaijan’s 1962 Nobel Prize winner in physics, is widely fêted. Garry Kasparov, considered by some the greatest chess player of all time, is a (patrilineal) Jew from Azerbaijan. A long list of academics, athletes, musicians and business innovators have risen to the top of their fields in the country and abroad and are celebrated both as Azerbaijanis and as Jews. A hero from recent times seems to elicit an especially emotional connection.
The conflict with Armenia, which began in the late 1980s and culminated most recently in a 2020 war, remains understandably fresh in the national consciousness. Highways and villages display thousands of portraits of war dead and the Alley of Martyrs in the heart of Baku is the final resting place of 15,000 Azerbaijanis, many from the final throes of Soviet domination and the two wars with Armenia. Among the most visited graves at the sprawling memorial park is that of Albert Agarunov.
The grave of Azerbaijani national hero Albert Agarunov, decorated with Azerbaijani and Israeli flags. (photo by Pat Johnson)
Agarunov was a young Jewish Azerbaijani who volunteered with his country’s defence forces and was a tank commander during the Armenian capture of the strategic Karabakh town of Shusha on May 8, 1992. The 23-year-old, already apparently such a legendary figure that the Armenians had put a bounty on his head, stepped out of his tank to retrieve bodies of slain Azerbaijani soldiers from the road when he was killed by sniper fire. Agarunov was posthumously named National Hero of Azerbaijan and was buried at the solemn national monument, in a service attended by both imams and rabbis. Today, Jews place stones on his grave and others place flowers.
In terms of Azerbaijani-Israeli relations, the large number of Azerbaijani-descended Jews who live in Israel create natural familial ties between the two places. Jewish remittances from Azerbaijani oil wealth helped purchase land in Palestine, an early portent of a connection between the two places. According to one museum piece, Jewish horse wranglers from the Caucasus made aliyah and became protectors of early kibbutzim and moshavim and helped put down the 1929 Hebron massacre, although I cannot find reference to this role online.
Whether that last detail is factual or not, what seems undeniable is that the story of Jews in Azerbaijan stands out as a model of coexistence and good neighbourliness in a world that has not always been so kind. This is a story that deserves to be told more widely.
Danny Danon, former Israeli envoy to the United Nations. (photo from IGPO / Chaim Tzach)
“Jerusalem is an inseparable part of Israel and her eternal capital,” said an Israeli prime minister. “No United Nations vote can alter that historic fact.” This quote, which could have come from any of the country’s leaders, was in fact spoken by the first, David Ben-Gurion, in 1949, just days after the UN voted for the internationalization of the city. Israel’s issues with the agency, in other words, have existed for some time.
One wouldn’t expect a right-wing Likud party stalwart, well-known hothead and self-acknowledged non-diplomat to be one of Israel’s foremost voices to present an unambiguous defence of the UN. But, in his new book, Danny Danon does exactly that.
Danon’s book, In the Lion’s Den: Israel and the World, focuses on his term as Israeli ambassador to the United Nations, from 2015 to 2020. Before that, he was a Likud member of the Knesset and a minister in Binyamin Netanyahu’s government.
He acknowledges that, when he was appointed to the diplomatic post, commentators in Israel and elsewhere suggested that Netanyahu was deliberately poking a stick in the belly of the beast.
“There was an expectation that, because of my background and strong ideological beliefs, I would not fit into the world of diplomacy, that I was too much of a hawk and a ‘hardliner,’ which would make it difficult for me to build relationships and achieve anything of substance,” he writes.
Well, yes and no. He does not fit into the world of diplomacy. But he does claim a litany of successes. Danon devotes nearly 200 pages to justifying Israel’s engagement with the international body. Despite the routine censures of Israel and seeming obsession the General Assembly and several of the UN’s agencies have with Israel, Danon argues convincingly that taking on the haters in that forum is a worthy enterprise.
“What many people don’t understand is that there is a public UN and a private UN,” he writes. “The public face of the UN – at least when it comes to Israel – is aggressive and bullying. But, privately, you can build bridges, forge friendships and create a space for understanding, particularly if you are transparent.”
His own approach – far more bull in a china shop than circumspect diplomat – has its merits, he contends. His calling out of critics by name, apparently nearly unheard of in the hallowed halls of the UN’s Manhattan headquarters, may have drawn gasps, but it also seems to have made some think twice before talking.
“After a few times calling out the French ambassador in the media, not only did he reiterate that he did not appreciate it, which had no effect on me, but, more importantly, it made him much more careful in the words he used and actions he took going forward.” Danon said.
In one segment, the former ambassador goes into extensive detail about the efforts he made to derail two particularly troublesome resolutions. “Both resolutions were pointless,” he acknowledged, which might describe most of the General Assembly resolutions against Israel, but this comment, in turn, raises the legitimate question about why such energy and resources are devoted to fighting them. Danon’s argument is that it is in Israel’s interest not to ignore them and to take up the fight whenever and wherever possible.
If his own account of his time there is to be believed, Danon achieved many victories.
He caused the UN to officially recognize Jewish holidays so that, for example, no major meetings occur on Yom Kippur. He managed to get a small amount of kosher food onto the menu at the UN staff cafeteria – and it was promptly snapped up by non-Jews who view a hechsher as proof of healthy, quality food.
More substantively, he hosted more than 100 ambassadors on delegations or missions to Israel.
Partly as a result of a conference that Danon organized for fellow ambassadors on the subject of antisemitism, the UN issued its first-ever thorough report dedicated entirely to anti-Jewish racism.
After successfully pressuring for a UN bureaucrat who is Israeli to be promoted (apparently a challenge), he took on a more entrenched problem. The UN unofficially boycotts Israel, he writes, passing over Israeli options in the agency’s not-insubstantial procurement process. He set out what he called the three T’s.
“We would sell our relevant technology, offer training and provide troops,” he said. The first two he succeeded in.
“I believe the last T, providing troops to UN peacekeeping missions, will come in time,” he writes. “Sending troops is still an ongoing effort on our part. We have one of the best trained militaries in the world, and it knows how to deal with many difficult conflicts. We have so many security challenges that require us to engage in prevention, deflection and defence that it puts us in a unique position of having both the know-how and the experience on the ground. This gives us an advantage in comparison to others. We have the expertise to train UN forces, such as search and rescue, medical treatment in the field, and addressing acute emergency situations…. It has not happened yet, but I am hopeful. It remains a goal for the future.”
For all its flaws, Danon argues, the UN is a unique environment where an Israeli ambassador can shmooze with people he would never get to meet otherwise.
“Think of this: anytime a special envoy from Israel travels to an Arab country, it has to be done with the utmost discretion. If such visits were to be discussed publicly, they could become an issue that could result in political backlash or even violence from extremists and terrorists. At the UN in New York, you can meet anyone, anytime, in a legitimate and open forum, free from the anxiety of those who are determined to see you fail. Indeed, such exchanges between adversaries and friends are expected, which is why the UN is a useful tool despite criticisms about its effectiveness in the 21st century.”
UN ambassadors aren’t nobodies, either, and the connections an Israeli envoy can make there can bear fruit later.
“Once a term at the UN is over, you can be assured that many ambassadors turn their attention to political positions in their home countries, some going on to become heads of state or ministers of foreign affairs,” he said. “It is useful to have existing relationships with such people.”
The Israeli delegation at the United Nations has managed to peel away a few European countries from the European Union’s consensus position against Israel.
“As the Czech Republic, Hungary and Bulgaria grow more confident and economically strong, one of the ways they have and will continue to show their independence and sovereignty is the approach they have taken toward Israel. We have a great opportunity to continue to strengthen our bond with the people and governments; as young countries striving to grow, they understand and relate to Israel’s challenges. I believe they will continue to reject Western Europe’s automatic pro-Palestinian and anti-Israeli sentiment.”
More remarkably, Danon also managed to peel away members from the Arab bloc. In a secret ballot, Danon became the first Israeli ever elected chair of one of the UN’s six standing committees. There were far fewer votes against his candidacy than there are Arab countries at the General Assembly, he notes.
“I had the courage and vision – and the will,” he writes of the chutzpah he showed in his role. “I was often told, great idea, let’s do it next year. I always said, let’s do it now, we can get it done in two months.” (Memoirs are rarely testaments to humility.)
Though Danon argues that he made headway in his term at the UN, predictably, he didn’t make many friends. But he certainly made one. Nikki Haley, the U.S. ambassador appointed by Donald Trump, became fast pals with Danon, apparently joyfully collaborating to stick it to the enemies. (Haley wrote the foreword to the book.)
This alliance and the many other overt and covert bridges he built during his term were overwhelmingly with representatives of governments that are on the right of the political spectrum – sometimes on the far-right, like Brazil’s and Hungary’s.
Though he doesn’t address this fact, he would no doubt make the case that Israel must take its friends where it can find them. In the bigger picture of Danon’s time in the belly of the beast, perhaps the words of the late Yitzhak Rabin prove true: “You don’t make peace with friends. You make it with very unsavoury enemies.”
