The Editorial Board

Concerning actions

The federal government announced last week that they are eliminating the office of Canada’s Special Envoy on Preserving Holocaust Remembrance and Combatting Antisemitism.

The announcement came in conjunction with the decision to eliminate the similar office of the Special Representative on Combatting Islamophobia, and the announcement that there will be a new Advisory Council on Rights, Equality and Inclusion.

It is hard to find fault with the hope expressed by the government that the new council, which will be comprised of prominent Canadians from academia as well as experts and community leaders, will foster social cohesion, rally Canadians around shared identity, combat racism and hate in all their forms, and help guide the government’s work in fighting racism. However, cutting the one position in Ottawa explicitly committed to addressing antisemitism just doesn’t seem wise.

Given the precipitous rise in antisemitism in Canada, we might assume that the office of antisemitism was not a great success. On the other hand, it is nearly impossible to measure success and failure on these matters. Perhaps things would have been markedly worse without it. In any event, for what was no doubt a barely negligible cost in the bigger scheme of the federal budget, the office was at least a nod toward taking the matter seriously.

Perhaps the new office will have profound impacts that the two eradicated offices did not. The problem is that, in so many ways, antisemitism is different in form and content from other forms of racism. It needs and deserves to be recognized and treated in ways that reflect this meaningful difference.

It is a symptom of the problem of antisemitism itself that this basic recognition of difference elicits condemnations of “Jewish exceptionalism,” or worse. It is an unavoidable truth, though, and the unique challenges of antisemitism are not addressed when elected officials, commentators, academics and antiracist activists seem congenitally incapable of condemning antisemitism without couching that condemnation in a basket of other biases and bigotries that deserve their own condemnation.

It should be reason for concern that the homogenization of antisemitism is now being institutionalized in an agency that lumps biases against Jews – which Statistics Canada says account for 70% of religiously motivated hate crimes and almost one in five of all hate crimes in the country – into a catch-all council dealing with a vast range of social ills. (The fact that antisemitism is grouped with “religiously motivated hate crimes” is a problematic but common misnomer for another editorial.)

A second, seemingly unrelated story in the news last week should amplify this concern.

In a minor political coup, Doly Begum, the deputy leader of the New Democratic Party in the Ontario legislature, blindsided her leader by suddenly resigning her legislative seat and announcing she would run federally – not for their federal counterpart, the NDP, but for Mark Carney’s Liberal party.

Political commentators have had a field day poking the entrails of Ontario’s NDP and wondering what it might mean for the federal Liberal government’s left flank as some people ponder a snap election this year.

Those attuned to other nuances of the story soon found that Begum has been one of the Ontario legislature’s most vocal anti-Israel voices, with a particular inclination toward the “genocide” claim. Given that provincial governments have precisely no foreign policy responsibilities, Begum’s fixation on this issue suggests she may bring a very particular agenda should she be elected in the upcoming by-election.

There is no way that the prime minister, the Liberal party and anyone else involved in these headline-topping machinations was not aware of their new recruit’s repeated and inflammatory comments on this topic.

The welcoming of Begum into the Liberal fold seems like another message to Canadians about this government’s approach to Israel and Palestine and the inevitable fallout of that conflict on domestic harmony.

Coming on the heels of the federal government’s recognition of a “state of Palestine” last year, it is hard to imagine the latest developments as anything short of a slap in the face to Jewish and pro-Israel Canadians, and anyone who cares about combatting Jew-hatred.

A good place to start

A massive 94% of Canadian Jews support the right of Israel to exist as a Jewish state. However, according to University of Toronto sociologist Robert Brym, who conducted the survey of 600 respondents, only 51% of those call themselves “Zionists.”

In the National Post this month, Brym took aim at those he says have weaponized his work, including the group Independent Jewish Voices and Avi Lewis, who is running for the leadership of the federal New Democratic Party. Lewis and IJV have claimed, based on an apparent deliberate misreading of Brym’s study, that 49% of Canadian Jews are not Zionists.

Brym calls that “gaslighting.”

When asked “Do you support the right of Israel to exist as a Jewish state?” 94% of respondents answered “yes” – in a word, they are Zionist. However, in another question, about how they personally identified, 51% of Jewish Canadians affirm they are Zionist, 15% “express ambivalence” about referring to themselves as Zionist, 7% say they “don’t know” and 27% say they are not Zionist. Just 1% describe themselves as “anti-Zionist.”

Intellectually honest politicians and organizations should not engage in misrepresenting Jewish Canadians’ actual views and the diminishment of their overwhelming emotional, spiritual, familial and other connections to Israel and its right to exist.

Here is something we should be pondering: How has a word and an idea that reflects the manifestation of Jewish self-determination, freedom, actualization and civilizational achievement become so sullied that almost half of Jews hesitate or refuse to identify with it?

In some ways, it is understandable. Before Israel became a state in 1948, Zionism as a contemporary political movement was the outgrowth of Theodor Herzl’s late-19th-century idea of a separate Jewish homeland. Since 1948, and the existence of Israel as a nation-state, the term Zionism has been associated with a tangible country, with a military, a government, and the flaws and foibles that accompany all nation-states. Zionism has come to mean, in some eyes, a vast range of concepts, including actions, good or bad (but, for the purposes of Lewis and groups like IJV, almost always bad), of the government of Israel.

This contradiction between the strict meaning of the term as it is defined in the political sphere and the broad application of it by bad actors is part of the reason many Jews are hesitant to adopt the descriptor “Zionist.” Jews themselves may have limited knowledge around other forms and visions of Zionism that have existed, making it difficult for the average Jew to engage in a discussion that contextualizes modern-day Zionism and the fuller arc of Jewish history.

Given the challenges and anxieties around being Jewish in Canada (and everywhere else in the world) right now, perhaps it is unwise to criticize the hesitancy of half of Canadian Jews to self-identify with an unpopular term. This is especially the case when faced with nefarious discourses that align Zionism with racism, white supremacy and Naziism, and a lack of knowledge of how to respond to those charges.

This survey’s misuse seems like a line in the sand, though.

The defilement of the term “Zionist” to mean things it doesn’t mean is part of a larger trend to score political victories by moving goalposts and using language to obscure truth.

Generally, the anti-Israel narrative is founded on a sort of postmodern rejection of objective definitions and terminology. Terms like “apartheid,” “settler-colonialism,” “ethnic cleansing” and “genocide” are redefined to encompass whatever those who weaponize the terms want them to mean.

When Jews, in the form of the Jewish state, are accused of genocide, a term that had to be invented to describe the Jewish experience of mass death, it makes arguing over the adoption of the label “Zionist” seem petty. But, if there is no consensus on something so foundational to the way many Jews define ourselves and our values, we put ourselves at a disadvantage in combating an abuse of language that reduces the human dignity of the Jewish people and, worse, can have literal life-and-death consequences.

If we are going to reverse this trajectory, which threatens not just Jews but truth itself, we need to contest the manipulation of language. By proudly reclaiming the term “Zionist,” which, apparently, 94% of Canadian Jews are but either don’t know it or won’t admit it, perhaps we can build some of the resilience and strength needed to combat the fight against more destructive and deceitful redefinitions of terms.

If we are going to defend the definition of the words we use to discuss the most vital issues of our time, “Zionism” seems like a good place to start.

Killed for being Jewish

For Jews worldwide, the hope represented by the first candle of Hanukkah was snuffed out by the horrifying mass murder at a communal Hanukkah celebration in Sydney, Australia. At press time, 15 were confirmed dead, ranging from a 10-year-old named Matilda to an 87-year-old survivor of the Holocaust, Alex Kleytman.

There have been many antisemitic incidents and attacks in Australia in the past two years, as there have been in many places. One of the reasons this hatred is spreading is the refusal of leaders to recognize and address it specifically as Jew-hatred.

This stubborn blindness was evidenced in the words of Australia’s Prime Minister Anthony Albanese in the immediate aftermath of Sunday’s mass murder.

“An attack on Jewish Australians is an attack on every Australian,” he said.

This is the sort of bromide politicians bring forth in moments like these, almost entirely devoid of meaning and, more significantly, a refusal to see the incident for what it is.

This was absolutely, decidedly, emphatically not an attack on “every Australian.” It was a targeted attack on Jewish Australians and to paint it as anything else – to universalize the very anti-Jewish particularity of the violence – is to deflect attention from the reality and true nature of the problem and ensure no resolution to Australia’s crisis of antisemitism is reached.

An Australian Jewish communal leader said antisemitic incidents in the country are “off the scale,” noting a series of recent antisemitic arsons, which pile upon recent attacks on synagogues, a daycare centre and an Israeli restaurant, as well as a tragically long list of less violent incidents.

The Australian problem is a microcosm of a larger global phenomenon. Government leaders, activists, commentators, NGOs and public figures worldwide for (at least) two years have been condemning Israel in the most malevolent terms, including outright blood libels and slanders that have become so endemic as to be treated as received truth.

The parallels between the tenor of frenzied rhetoric against Israel – including from the highest levels of government, society and media – and the unprecedented spike in antisemitic violence has seemed to spark almost no recognition of cause and effect. An alternative (and perverse) explanation seems to be that the victims of these incidents deserve it, considering their perceived complicity in Zionism.

Given the panorama of tragedy in the world and the myopic focus on the only one involving the Jewish state puts the lie to naïve assessments that there is no correlation here. Or that the Jewish victims are to blame. If overheated rhetoric toward any other identifiable group paralleled extraordinary targeted violence against members of that group (or anyone seen to be in sympathy or associated with them), almost anyone would recognize the correlation.

The Australian government, like so many others, seems to believe they can condemn Israel in the most strident, undiplomatic terms, on the one hand, and claim, on the other hand, shock and dismay – even bewilderment – when violence against Australian Jews erupts.

In the aftermath of the mass murders, Albanese committed to stronger gun laws, which are already some of the strongest in the Western world. Well, OK. But how about stronger laws and customs against antisemitic incitement? How about toning down the declarations from his own government, which some have accused of rewarding the 10/7 terror attacks by nearly instantaneously demanding and then leading a vanguard of nations to unilaterally recognize Palestinian statehood while terrorists are still in control there? How about listening to the voices of Jewish Australians who have been warning for more than two years that this sort of terror was becoming inevitable given the pitch of rhetoric?

It will be noted extensively that the attacks were apparently perpetrated by a father and son who are reported to be migrants from Pakistan. (The father is dead. The son is in hospital with significant injuries.) It should be noted at least as prominently that the man who disarmed one of the attackers is a Syrian Muslim. If we want to paint a broad brush of blame, we must also paint with an equally broad brush of heroism, truly incredible courage and heroic action. Let us not, though, pretend that there are not dangerous strains of cultural and theological antisemitism embedded in some communities that absolutely need to be addressed much more vigorously and vociferously than they are currently being addressed. It is also true that antisemitism knows no borders and has spread to nearly every pocket of the world over the last 2,000-plus years.

Early indications are that Australia is determined to ignore the obvious parallels between unrestrained continual damnation of Israel across society, including at the highest levels, and violence against Jews. Maybe other countries – like ours – will take heed and learn from Australia’s folly before it is too late. We hope so. Canada’s government and civil society have responded very much along the lines of Australia’s throughout these horrible two years.

Keep lighting candles

We were intrigued to receive notice of the 2026 PuSh International Performing Arts Festival, which takes place in January and February. The festival has been running for more than two decades and bills itself as “a creative hub for dialogue.”

“The 2026 PuSh festival is an invitation to the culturally fearless – to those ready to step into fresh futurities and the uncharted possibilities of live performance,” said artistic director Gabrielle Martin in the media release that landed in our inbox recently.

Curious words for a festival that last year demonstrated cowardice that redefines the term.

The controversy centred on a play titled The Runner – a one-person offering by non-Jewish playwright Christopher Morris. The story is set in Israel and has as its focus an ultra-Orthodox Jewish ZAKA volunteer who faces an ethical decision: when encountering a wounded Palestinian woman, he opts to save her rather than pursue an Israeli soldier’s body.

The play had garnered acclaim, having won multiple awards in Canada, and was to be featured at the 2024 PuSh festival. The Belfry Theatre in Victoria had already canceled its planned 2024 run of the show after the theatre was vandalized and a public dialogue was overtaken by protesters.

The scheduled PuSh production was also targeted. Some critics complained that the play centred Jewish experience while marginalizing Palestinian voices and trauma, presumably because depicting an Israeli as a complex moral character was beyond the pale.

One Palestinian artist participating in the festival said he would withdraw his work if The Runner remained in the lineup. Organizers caved, couching their gutlessness in self-adulatory language of prioritizing artists whose perspectives were “underrepresented” given current events.

If the festival was indeed committed to “fearless” exploration, The Runner was an ideal vehicle for that sort of examination. Instead, organizers brought shame upon the arts sector, betraying the very values PuSh specifically and the arts in general are expected to advance.

Keeping up with incidents of hypocrisy these days is a game of Whack-a-Mole, but we cannot overlook the vote by the BC Green Party to adopt a so-called “Anti-Genocide Motion” at their provincial convention. The motion declares that the party will “oppose genocide, apartheid, systemic discrimination and colonial violence – at home and around the world.”

In supporting the motion, the party’s new leader, Emily Lowan, stated that the Greens consider the recent war in Gaza to constitute “genocide” and “colonial violence.”

The motion and the leader’s full-throated support for it is especially disappointing because, under previous leaders, the BC Greens had resisted the spiral of their federal party into this sort of hyperbolic and ahistoric anti-Zionism.

We could go on. There is literally not the space in this column or in these pages to delineate the myriad causes for Jewish disenchantment these days. This, though, is not justification for despair. History has presented Jews with challenges in the past, put mildly.

If these developments and their hypocrisy raise your heart rate, consider using that energy as fuel to build something better. The world is troubled right now, for Jews and for others, too, but it is a Jewish tradition – especially at this moment in the calendar – to light a candle rather than to curse the darkness.

If you are expending energy complaining to your friends about these events, consider more active ways to effect positive changes. For example, you can contact the Green Party and tell them you are affronted by their adoption of a resolution that debases the term “genocide,” misrepresents events globally and foments intercultural division at home. Contact the PuSH festival and their sponsors to tell them you haven’t forgotten their illiberal folding to coercion. Support arts institutions that continue to host and produce Israeli and Jewish art and artists, and our own community arts and culture organizations, which have faced additional challenges over the last two-plus years. Whenever you are angered or disappointed, remember that action is the antidote to helplessness and hopelessness. Just one candle can illuminate the darkness and bring hope and inspire change.

Words hold much power

At an event hosted by the National Council of Canadian Muslims on Nov. 1, Toronto’s Mayor Olivia Chow said, “the genocide in Gaza impacts us all.”

Four days later, protesters attacked a group of Jewish students from Toronto Metropolitan University at an event featuring a speaker who served in the Israel Defence Forces during the recent Gaza war.

Is this cause and effect? Did Chow’s words give a kind of permission for anti-Israel activists to act out violently?

Human nature doesn’t work so neatly. Suggesting one directly led to the other is both unprovable and probably specious.

Both of these incidents, however, are part of a larger zeitgeist.

For (at least) two years, Israel has been accused of monstrous barbarities. Accusations against the Jewish state include deliberate starvation, ethnic cleansing, intentional mass killings, wanton destruction of infrastructure and other assorted war crimes.

There are legitimate debates around the definitions of terms and whether or how they apply to recent events in Gaza. However, public discussions, as Chow demonstrated, rarely reflect these nuances.

As a society, we now widely accept that incendiary language can lead to incendiary actions. In discussions around immigration levels, for example, responsible public figures generally engage in discourse that does not demonize migrants or new Canadians. Concerns have been raised in recent years around the tenor of discussion around transgender issues, with advocates warning that some of the language can exacerbate emotional isolation, especially in transgender youth, and can lead to suicide ideation. Words, it is widely accepted, can have tangible, indelible impacts.

This thoughtfulness seems nowhere to be found when Jews and allies warn that the provocative language against the Jewish state is having serious impacts on Jews in Canada.

While cause and effect are rarely provable, correlations can be clearer. Over the past two years, combustible rhetoric against Israel has coincided with an unprecedented spike in antisemitic acts against Jewish institutions and people. One would think, under the circumstances, that reasonable people might see the potential that one is at least somewhat related to the other.

Raise this possibility, though, and you can expect to be met with assertions that “Zionists” are trying to silence criticism of Israel or that there is a “chill” on discussion of urgent and legitimate international matters.

This is an admirable defence of free speech. It is interesting, though, that concepts of almost unfettered free expression seem to be the redoubt of Israel critics who accept limitations on civil discourse in a vast range of other topic areas.

Is it a coincidence, also, that the very concept of “Zionists” controlling what other people are permitted to think and say about Israel dovetails with traditional antisemitic concepts of Jewish power and control?

What everyone should be able to accept – because the evidence is plain – is that there is a parallel between the intensity of rhetoric against Israel and increasing attacks on Jews in Canada (and elsewhere).

Toronto’s mayor is just one of many Canadian leaders who should know better than to nonchalantly toss around accusations, understanding that the pitch of condemnation against Israel is having concrete impacts on Jews in Canada.

Anyone with a public platform should behave in ways that recognize the intended and potentially unintended consequences of their words. A mayor of a Canadian city, for example, should know that her words will have limited effect on the lives of Palestinians, but plenty of impacts here at home.

In a diverse country like Canada, where inclusivity is considered a core value, people in positions of respect and power have a duty to act responsibly, to promote unity and avoid phrases that might inflame community tensions.

Did Chow’s words directly lead to the violent attack on Jewish students this month? Almost certainly not.

But they contributed to an environment already aggravated with tension and peril.

A better future possible

This feels like a turning point. Few people who observe international affairs, especially in the Middle East, would doubt that the conclusion of the two-year-long war means a significant change in the dynamics of the region.

It is an understatement to say that wars cause upheaval. The result of any war is always catastrophic death and destruction. But wars also, by definition, upend status quos.

The First World War decisively ended the age of empires. The Second World War ushered in, among much else, a new world order including the concept of universal human rights.

Every war, among its other consequences, is like throwing a deck of cards in the air. What emerges in the aftermath is to some extent beyond the control of any of the belligerents, including the victors (such as there are ever true victors in war).

In Israeli history, it has sometimes seemed as though a war ends and things return to the status quo ante. Israeli-Arab wars have ended before with little or no decisive change in the broader context of conflict. New wars, sadly, have always erupted. Perhaps the end of the Gaza war will usher in a time of changed dynamics or maybe the region will revert to its perpetual bottom line of Zionists-versus-anti-Zionists and little will change. The eight-decade battle over Israel’s right to exist is unlikely to be conclusively settled, whether or not the current ceasefire holds.

This feels different, though, in many ways.

The global engagement with this particular conflict – the diplomatic condemnations, the isolation of Israel, the worldwide street protests, the systematic boycotts of Israelis and Jews, the raging antisemitism that paralleled it – set this war apart from others of the past. One thing almost all Jews are probably watching closely is whether the easing of military tensions in the Middle East leads to an easing of antisemitic tensions worldwide. Many of us hold our breath awaiting that verdict.

The US administration plays a distinct wild card. It helped broker the ceasefire, but also has floated some provocative ideas of how to rebuild Gaza.

The talk about rebuilding Gaza, to which some European powers have committed and to which Arab states have given at least lip-service, is a physical necessity. As formidable as that reconstruction process will be, a moral and political rebuilding will be far more daunting. “De-Hamas-ification,” to update a term from a previous war, is a stated objective of Israel and its supporters. But, as some commentators have noted, Hamas may be as much a symptom of an extremist intolerance in elements of Palestinian society as a cause. This is likely particularly true without broad and sustained supports for Palestinian voices and aspirations that are anti-authoritarian or desiring of coexistence or peace with Israel. Militaries can be defeated perhaps more easily than some of the tenacious ideas that they represent.

Additionally, it will be fascinating to see whether the world, having made Gaza the almost singular focus of international affairs for the past two years, will now take any responsibility for ensuring the safety and prosperity of the Palestinian people, or whether we will collectively abandon them again until the next catastrophe reawakens our sense of humanitarianism.

Despite the Madison Avenue mantra, “new” does not always mean “improved.” Sometimes, things can change for the worse. But this does seem like a moment of opportunity.

On the one hand, it has become clear that “From the river to the sea …” is not a practical strategy. On the other, for those who seek peace, we have understood that we are not powerless witnesses to history. Each of us, in our way, has influence. Many erstwhile apolitical people have been motivated to action, to engage in dialogue across social and political boundaries, and to be part of the efforts to bring about a better life for all sides.

Now that the immediate war is over, we should hope coming together is possible among those of differing perspectives to advance a future of mutual benefit. What we do now, as individuals, as countries, as Jews, as humans, and in whatever context we act and whatever forms our actions take, can have a powerful impact on what happens next.

Antisemitism a problem

The overwhelming joy of seeing the remaining hostages reunited with their loved ones, and Israelis and Jews heaving a sigh of relief after two excruciating years, is tempered with the sadness of all that was lost on and since Oct. 7, 2023. The entirely reasonable fear, also, is that this eight-decade conflict is not over. With the days-old ceasefire already fraying, it is not clear that even the immediate conflict is decisively ended.

For Jews in the diaspora, the past two years have seen two related but distinct conflicts. The war in the Middle East, with the fate of the hostages as well as the loss of Palestinian and Israeli lives, has been a constant source of pain. The paroxysm of antisemitism worldwide has been a parallel phenomenon.

We are careful to note that the phenomenon of antisemitism is parallel to the war in Gaza, not caused by it. The blame for antisemitism must always be placed where it belongs – on antisemites. To justify it as being a consequence of international affairs is to excuse the perpetrators and avoid the problem. Even so, it is naïve to ignore the parallel – for decades, every time violence flares between Israelis and Palestinians, trouble increases for Jews worldwide.

Assuming that the war is over, we will see whether the antisemitism we have witnessed and experienced – the violence against Jews, the attacks on Jewish institutions, the loss of jobs, the end of friendships, the graffiti, vandalism, and tsunami of online and verbal hatred and conspiratorial speculation (and even unintended offence) – abate. Even if it does subside, the underlying issue remains. Antisemitism in Canada is a Canadian problem. To accept that it ebbs and flows with international news is not an acceptable approach for people who claim to oppose racism and advance inclusion.

Two interesting approaches – and doubtlessly scores more that have received less publicity – take aim at the issue. They come from organizations with significantly different views and propose significantly different responses. This diversity is understandable, in part because antisemitism manifests in diverse ways and so requires diverse responses. This also points to a larger problem: antisemitism is so diffuse and varied, and so historically enduring, that we can disagree on its very nature, its manifestations and causes, let alone how to confront and overcome it. If anyone had the magic solution, we wouldn’t be having this discussion three millennia on.

The latest intervention is a report by the Nexus Project, a US-based nonprofit focused on combating antisemitism while protecting democratic norms like free speech and civil rights. The Shofar Report: A Call to Defend Democracy and Confront Antisemitism contends the best way to combat antisemitism is to strengthen the values of American society (and other Western societies). It argues that Jewish safety and security and American (or, we might extrapolate, Western democratic) institutions are inseparable. Put succinctly, their approach rests on the conventional wisdom that the very societies where antisemitism flourishes are endangered in existential ways. As such, antisemitism is a kind of canary in the coal mine of societal erosion.

The report has several calls to action, including expanding education around the Holocaust, media literacy and diverse Jewish contributions to society; strengthening civil rights enforcement; countering disinformation and conspiracy theories; preserving academic freedom; building cross-community coalitions; and so forth. It critiques antisemitism on the left and right of the political spectrum. While these are not fresh ideas, they are compiled and contextualized here within the apparent erosion of American democracy. If these approaches have not seemed to work, a response might be that we have not been doing them forcefully enough or with enough resolve. With a rapidly changing landscape, might focused attention and some new tactics yield better results?

The Heritage Foundation has a rather more assertive approach. The foundation is perhaps best known in this era as the authors of Project 2025, which serves as a policy map for the current American administration.

Project Esther: A National Strategy to Combat Antisemitism, which was released a year ago, rests on the assumption that antisemitism in the United States (and, again, to extrapolate, in the West) is not an incidental, populist phenomenon, but a deliberately fomented strategy of a coordinated “Hamas Support Network.” The strategy of this report is to put pressure across academic, social, legal, financial and religious spheres to identify and isolate forces they see as perpetrators, supporters or fence-sitters. Their aim is to dismantle the “pro-Palestinian” movement as it is currently constituted, including associated liberal and progressive organizations. To that end, they focus exclusively on left-wing antisemitism. They recommend a combative strategy based on existing and new counter-terrorism and hate-crime laws, investigations and litigation.

We may agree with aspects of one approach more than the other, or take nuggets from each and a thousand other tactics. The solution to antisemitism’s rise, if there is one, will probably come from some synthesis of strategies: building bridges, fighting for democracy, and holding individuals and institutions accountable for their failures and fomentation. The most important thing is to be engaged in the struggle and not to assume that, if an overseas conflict is resolved, the domestic problem will be solved. That would be a form of denial and, while we can disagree over the potential resolutions, we must be unanimous in recognizing the painful realities of the problem.

When approaches differ

News of a possible breakthrough that could lead to the end of the war between Israel and Hamas is encouraging, but there is effectively no happy ending to this situation. Nothing can return the lives lost or undo the horrors of the past two years. Even if it ends tomorrow, the tragedy of this war will go down as one of the saddest, most protracted chapters in a heartbreaking history.

The international repercussions have been less lethal but will have permanent implications for, among other things, the stability and well-being of Jewish communities in the diaspora. Global antisemitism has reached unimagined heights. And, globally, Jewish people and organizations are at odds over how to proceed.

For many months, voices in Israel, among Jews worldwide and in our own local community have been divided over, among other things, whether Israel should unilaterally end the war, pursue it to the stated end of eliminating Hamas or, depending on the perspective, something on a spectrum between these views. Some are calling for an Israeli or international occupation of Gaza.

Here in British Columbia, weekly solidarity rallies at Vancouver City Hall have continued, sometimes with small numbers, and featuring a diversity of voices. Other rallies, including marches across the Burrard Street Bridge and, this week, a community commemoration of the second anniversary of 10/7, have brought together overlapping and different participants.

It is sometimes hard for human beings, especially those deeply determined to do the right thing, to accept that there can be legitimate but differing opinions on the best way forward. We should be able to agree on this: no one can predict the future or know for certain what is best for the people of that region (or for Jews worldwide). We may disagree on fundamentals, such as whether a two-state solution remains a viable possibility or whether, at the other end of opinion, the West Bank and Gaza should be absorbed into an enlarged state of Israel (a perspective still generally viewed as extremist), or whether some kind of federated one-state system might integrate both peoples’ needs and futures. If we disagree on the end goal, we will almost certainly find fault with the other side’s means of reaching it.

Stuck as we may be in what seems an ideological, moral, political, strategic and theological disagreement, it is easy to view others, even those in our own community, as adversaries – this certainly is reflected in some of the messages we have received in recent days. On the one hand, we received an open letter to community rabbis ostensibly reminding them what Jewish morality entails, and, on a different hand, we received messages declaiming those in our community who call for a ceasefire as being in cahoots with nefarious groups, including one proscribed by the federal government as a terrorist entity. Both missives encourage community members to call out those who do not agree with their approach.

The passions ignited around this topic are understandable. These are existential issues faced by our people and our homeland. With no universally agreed-upon ends or means, division is inevitable. We should, though, keep in mind that, while it is our obligation to pursue justice, that pursuit includes minimizing harm in our own community. We should be guided by the understanding that our actions will have greater impacts on our people’s well-being here at home than on events halfway around the world.

While it may be difficult in the moment of discord to see the sincerity and humanity of those we see as our opponents, there is a commonality at play. Believe it or not, the people in our community most vehemently hostile toward your outlook are convinced, as you are, that they are acting in the best interests of the Jewish people, and, in most circumstances, the best interests of our homeland.

Human affairs are an art, not a science. There are – surprise! – no right answers, only opinions and presumptions. As convinced as we may be otherwise, not one of us can conclusively know for certain the best avenue to pursue to bring about the future we dream of.

At a minimum, let us presume we are all committed to a future of peace, justice and security. What that looks like, and how we get there, will differ.

Let us further presume the best intentions in others and celebrate our shared desire for positive outcomes and the impassioned commitment even of those with whom we disagree.

More unenforced laws?

Rumours were that the federal government was about to table “bubble zone” legislation last week, which, if passed, would have criminalized protests in specific locations such as places of worship, community centres and schools.

That didn’t happen.

While the almost-proposed legislation was to be universal in terminology, there were few doubts that its intent was really to limit protests at synagogues, Jewish community centres and Jewish day schools. This was a response to concerns from Jewish organizations about persistent and often aggressive targeting at community institutions.

Bill C-9, which saw first reading Sept. 19, proposes amending the Criminal Code to add new hate-related offences and to criminalize obstruction or intimidation that prevents people from accessing certain places, like those mentioned. It does not include the “bubble zone” provision, at least not as most advocates had envisioned it. It would proscribe not mere “protests” but criminal behaviours such as obstructing or intimidating people accessing community spaces. However, if such obstruction or intimidation is already criminal behaviour, we’re not sure why new legislation is needed. In fact, this is the larger issue with this whole approach.

The so-called “bubble zone” idea was mooted alongside another piece of legislation being considered. In the last Parliament, the Liberal government had proposed an online harms bill that was wide-reaching, emphasizing content that could lead, for example, to young people self-harming, but also addressing racist ideas that foment hatred. This died on the order paper when the election was called, as all incomplete legislation does.

Both of these proposals elicited concerns from civil libertarians, and rightly so. The right to free expression, while not as unrestrained in Canada as it is in the United States, is, we assume most Canadians agree, a sacrosanct characteristic of Canadian society. Canadians also, though, have tended to accept some limitations on individual expression for what is perceived as the greater good. For example, limiting hateful commentary in the interest of intercultural harmony.

In the case of the bubble zone approach, there is at least one court case that will presumably help determine the balance between free expression and the ability of identifiable groups to be protected from harassment. The Canadian Civil Liberties Association is challenging a municipal bubble zone bylaw in Vaughan, Ont. Some commentators believe the bylaw – and, by extension, the concept – will be determined to be excessive and an unnecessary impediment to legitimate protest under Canada’s Charter of Rights and Freedoms.

One’s hearts and minds can be at odds on this issue, as they can be on so many things. The infuriating and deliberately taunting protests we have seen adjacent Jewish institutions belies the idea, in many cases, that these protests and protesters are always operating in good faith. But people being deliberately provocative and mean isn’t the legal litmus test here.

While the Liberal party made commitments during last spring’s federal election to introduce bubble zone legislation, we do not fault them for awaiting relevant legal decisions. (If we fault them, it would be on making promises in a campaign that they might have known would be subject to Charter challenge.) Here, though, we come back to what we consider the larger issue: we already have laws.

The Criminal Code has prohibitions against harassment, incitement to hatred, uttering threats, intimidation, mischief motivated by hate targeting religious property, schools, community centres and so on. And yet, too often these laws act neither as a deterrent nor as a form of accountability and consequences, perhaps because they don’t seem to be enforceable or enforced. For example, it has been noted that police hesitate to recommend charges because Crown prosecutors don’t lay charges. Crown doesn’t recommend charges, we are told, because they have wasted too many resources on cases courts throw out.

A particular case that has upset and disturbed Jewish community members involves a Vancouver woman who led a shameful chant of “Long live October 7” and called the perpetrators of those atrocities “heroic and brave.”

This case seems, to many of us, an example of incitement to hatred. And yet, no charges have been laid, a reality that some observers have attributed to a lack of political will at the top of the province’s law enforcement bureaucracy – that is, the attorney general’s office.

When a case like this languishes for more than a year without charges, is the problem the people in charge, or the system more broadly? Given the multiplicity of laws already on the books, is the answer to this problem more laws? Or is the problem something related to the human, political and judicial forces that are responsible for enforcing and judging those laws that leads to frustration in communities like ours?

This is the national conversation we would like to see as the new-ish Parliament approaches these topics in the coming weeks.

Hope for a good year

We begin the cycle of a new year in the coming days. We are all reflecting on our lives, our actions and our place in the world at this time of year. Perhaps, in the past two years, we are doing this more than ever before, even without the catalyst of the month of Elul or the impending holy days as motivation.

One of the things many of us are certainly pondering is how we move through life, and whether we approach the world with the balance tilted towards wonder and hope or towards cynicism and pessimism. These choices are challenging no matter where or under what conditions you live. For Jews in Israel and the diaspora right now, they are especially poignant.

A strength of Jewish life and practice is the capacity to hold sadness and joy in the same moments – life is rarely all one or the other. We mourn that there are still people being held hostage, the deaths in Israel and Gaza and in other conflicts, loved ones facing illness and confronting mortality, natural disasters, climate change, creeping

authoritarianism in many countries, and all the big and small sadnesses of being human, but these are, above all, a part of being alive. In Judaism, it is a mitzvah to choose life through our actions and choices. This commandment appears in a Torah portion we read prior to Rosh Hashanah, reminding us that we can choose hope over despair, that we can choose a different reality.

This duality will be on full display in the coming days as we move through the holy days, including navigating the joys and now sorrows of Simchat Torah, which will forever be equated in our memories with the atrocities of 10/7.

Along with holding joy and sadness in the same moment is holding more than one truth, that being strong is being able to experience things that sadden or madden us and not permit their presence to destroy what happiness or equanimity we have.

Pirkei Avot asks and answers: “Who is mighty? One who conquers his impulse.”

If our impulse is to be angry, vengeful, depressed or miserable, we might conclude that we have no control over these responses. We do. It’s not easy, but it is within our capability.

Without minimizing the challenges, neither should we dwell on them exclusively.

In the context of Jewish history, victory of a sort in our era comes from being physically safe, with the opportunity to live a contented, meaningful life.

As you hopefully gather as a community in prayer spaces and around holiday tables in the coming days, may you find a greater sense of ease in the balancing of the sweet and the sorrowful, and may you grant yourself and those you love the consent to live well, with hope for a truly good year.