Books – Page 45

Memoir more than family history

Alison Pick (photo by Emma-Lee Photography)

Award-winning author and poet Alison Pick comes to Vancouver later this month to participate in two panels at the Vancouver Writers Fest, one of which is already sold out.

As a teenager, Pick discovered that her father’s parents were Jewish. As she tells a rabbi in the first chapter of her memoir, Between Gods (Doubleday Canada), “My grandparents escaped Czechoslovakia in 1939. They bribed a Nazi for visas, came to Canada and renounced their Judaism. They spent their lives posing as Christians…. As a kid I was forbidden from discussing it. But now I’m going back and asking questions.”

In her 30s, struggling with depression, about to be married, and writing the novel that would become Far to Go, Between Gods is about Pick’s life during this period in which she lays claim to her Jewish identity. She spoke with the Jewish Independent via email.

JI: The title of the book is Between Gods. With what vision of God did you begin your spiritual/cultural journey, and how now do you grapple with or appreciate God/Source? Did your concepts/beliefs change when you had a child?

AP: Between Gods tells the story of my conversion from Christianity to Judaism. That said, the conversion was mostly cultural for me – an attempt to reclaim my family’s hidden Judaism. My personal concept of God, ironically, is probably most Buddhist in nature: the idea that there is a presence larger than us; that is it benign or even loving. It seems to me there is something akin to an energy field, and that we can choose to ignore it or to engage with it, and that, in engaging with it, we foster our relationship with it. I like the image of two hands. One is moving, grasping, reaching, touching – that hand is the ego, or the personality. The other hand remains still – it is the witness, both personal and theological.

These concepts didn’t change when I had a child, although I am very conscious of fostering a sense of the divine for and with her. The most important part of our week is Friday evening, when we have Shabbat dinner – seeing her take that for granted (in the best kind of way) is hugely gratifying.

JI: In the acknowledgements, you note that you’ve taken artistic liberty with some of the details, but still, it must have been difficult to write about family, friends. From where came the desire to write such a book at this point in your life?

AP: It didn’t really feel like a choice. Between Gods began as a set of notes I was taking at the same time as I was writing Far to Go. At first I thought the two projects were the same book – then it became clear that they were different. By the time I had finished writing Far to Go, I had converted to Judaism. I just knew that Between Gods was the next book I had to write. As a writer, you have to trust where the artistic energy lays, and so my practice is comprised at least partially of listening to what wants to be written as opposed to what my ego wants to write.

JI: Reading the memoir, your frustration with the conversion “policy” is completely understandable. With the distance of time, how do you feel about it?

AP: I had difficulty converting to Reform Judaism in Toronto because my fiancé was not Jewish. At the time, it was hard to not take this personally, to not feel rejected. It still, in retrospect, seems odd to me that I was already half Jewish and yet encountered many more obstacles than the other women in my class who were engaged to Jewish men. That said, I do see the very clear benefits that having an entirely Jewish nuclear family offers, not just individually, of course, but collectively. My experience made me more compassionate towards others, in that way that our personal suffering always shines a light on the suffering of the world, and has influenced my decisions around how to practise Judaism with my daughter – we are involved in communities that are inclusive and progressive while at the same time honoring tradition.

JI: Why did you choose, in a memoir mainly about your becoming Jewish, to also write so openly about your struggle with depression?

AP: It seemed to me that the two were intimately related. The more I learned about my family background the more I began to think that my depression was something inherited and that, in some ways, it was the result of the legacy of the Holocaust. I’m not saying that the relationship was directly causal, but that the two things fed off each other, culminating in an existential darkness.

JI: The absence of your mother and sister in the memoir is felt, even though they are mentioned, you share that they were supportive and you address why they don’t figure more prominently. The rabbi was concerned with creating an interfaith nuclear family, but extending this concern, how has your family’s being Jewish fit in/worked with your larger family (and even friends)?

AP: It was a conscious decision to not include very much of my mother, although you’re not the first person to say they would have liked more of her. She was generally extremely supportive, as was my sister. I have heard many other conversion stories in which at least one member of the potential convert’s family was upset, or at least in which the family dynamic was fraught. I experienced none of that. My mother, my sister, and my extended family and friends have really been behind me. Of course, I had many in-depth conversations along the way, but all of them had positive outcomes.

At the Writers Fest, which takes place Oct. 21-26 on Granville Island, Alison Pick participates in two panels about writing based on personal experience, one of which – Writing Back to the Self on Oct. 24 – still had tickets for sale at press time. In addition to Pick, Jewish community members participating in the festival include Cory Doctorow, Esther Freud, Herman Koch, Christopher Levenson, Daniel Leviton and Tom Rachman. For tickets: vancouvertix.com, 604-629-8849 or the box office at 1398 Cartwright St.

Asper vision spurred action

(photo by Rebeca Kuropatwa)

Miracle at the Forks: The Museum that Dares Make a Difference, which chronicles the 14-year journey to plan, build and open the Canadian Museum of Human Rights (CMHR), was launched on Sept. 22 at the museum with Gail Asper, Moe Levi, Stuart Murray, and co-authors Peter C. Newman and Allan Levine. The 200-page book, released by Figure 1 Publishing, officially hit the bookstands on Sept. 23.

In her remarks at the launch, Asper said that she was pleased with the volume’s title. “I love it because it is miraculous … being inside this museum we’ve talked about for 14 years … this is a really great time for Winnipeg, Manitoba and the world.”

She continued, “We started on this journey to find a way to educate our youth about our human rights violations that occurred in our history and to inspire people to take action. This has been a long, often challenging, and many times miraculous journey from dream to reality. That’s why we’re thrilled that non-fiction writers Peter C. Newman and Allan Levine are here and have written a compelling book, recounting the story from the day Dad – Israel (Izzy) Asper – dreamed of a centre for human rights and gave Moe Levi the mandate to make it happen, to the completion of the building this year.

“During the dark days after my dad’s passing, it was Moe’s support, his ridiculous optimism and resolve, that kept us going…. And, of course, thank you to the federal government under the leadership of Stephen Harper, this maverick person whose courageous decision to make this a national museum ensured our going forward. Also, thanks to our 8,200 donors who’ve made this day possible.”

Newman described the book’s overarching purpose. “Canada was built on dreams as well as appetites. This country was founded by waves of immigrants with big ideas and big dreams. The [Canadian] Museum of Human Rights will dramatically alter Winnipeg’s skyline. But its name is a misnomer; museum is too limiting a description. That’s a venue people visit to remind one another of past lives … memories that can light up a rainy Sunday afternoon.

“This museum is to make a difference. This book is about how this idea, which seemed far too risky to be Canadian, actually came about. Its purpose is more significant than its contents…. If you consider this notion, it really defines what this is all about. Its existence will turn focus on its mission. The key to this great achievement is the image you get of a long time ago.”

Co-author Levine said, “I was fortunate to spend a lot of time with Izzy Asper and listen to him talk…. He told me often, one of the secrets of success came down to perseverance. He just never gave up on anything he did.

“The CMHR project gave new meanings to that. As Peter and I were researching and writing the book, I was struck by the amazing perseverance of Gail and Moe, and other members of the Asper family and foundation. They refused to quit, and are standing in the museum today.”

Levine read aloud excerpts from the book’s section “A Magnificent Conception,” about the delay in getting the museum off the ground.

“You see, Asper was not a journey-to-the-destination type of person. He was a just-get-to-the-destination kind of guy. So, if you’d told him in 2003, prior to his death, that more than a decade later the Museum for Human Rights would not be open, he would have been appalled.

“Back in 2000, once the initial idea of the Museum of Tolerance, as it was first referred to, began to germinate, and after Asper had found a spot at the Forks where he wanted to build it, plans advanced methodically and purposefully.

“Asper’s vision, although not clearly articulated initially, was to establish a museum that would teach the lessons of the Holocaust as well as examine human rights in a Canadian context against the backdrop of the Charter of Rights and Freedoms. There was a part of Canada’s history that had never been told, and he spoke really with as much passion about the Holocaust as he did about the Japanese, Chinese and Aboriginal societies, in particular.

“The project Asper envisioned was unique for several other reasons, factors that would prove a stumbling block difficult to hurdle, the grandeur of the museum Asper had in mind was akin to the Guggenheim Museum in Spain.

“One misconception that stands out is how people believe that he intended this to be a private museum … the opposite is true. Right from the beginning, he stated that he only wanted to spearhead this project, not run it or control the agenda.

“In the early years, Asper had underestimated the opposition he was to face from just about every corner – skeptical politicians who questioned the need for such a mammoth and expensive museum, academics and journalists who did not believe the museum of human rights could be done properly, or whether it was even necessary.

“Ottawa bureaucrats protested loudly about placing a national rights museum anywhere but in Ottawa, and a collection of naysayers who questioned the use of the Asper Foundation’s use of tax-payer money as part of an alleged scheme to advance so-called Jewish interests.

“Yet, even if he had known of the obstacles that stood in his path, Izzy would never have quit. Always he had persevered. As Gail recalls about her father, there’s a great quote that comes ‘Do it: do or do not. There is no try. Let’s just get the job done.’

“At the same time, there had been times when he had tried and tried and tried, and he failed. But the bottom line is, if you keep trying, the perseverance will pay off somewhere.”

When finished reading the first book excerpt, Levine shared, “Izzy, by the way, dictated things. Gail was instructed by her father that she was to dedicate half her day, every day, to the museum.

“So this, I quote, from Izzy’s letter to his daughter: ‘You must get up and end every day and ask yourself, what did I achieve in finding 60 million needed from the private sector for the museum? You are not to take any calls, answer any letters, or have any meetings with people who are seeking donations from the Asper Foundation. That is Moe’s job, and not to be duplicated.

‘I’m spelling all of this out because this is your opportunity to prove that you can act like a senior executive, and not to be distracted by everything that happens to go by. I hope you can exercise for us and discipline the outlined above.

‘This is the way I’ve operated all my life and, in my opinion, the only way you can accomplish things that everyone thinks can’t be done.’” Levine added, “And Gail obviously followed that [instruction].”

“Working with Allan and Peter has been one of the joys of putting this whole project together,” Levi added in his remarks. “It made me reminisce with Gail, and many times we laughed and cried thinking back [on] this incredible journey. I think it’s a great book. The key thing here is all the proceeds of this book go to the Friends [of the CMHR]. Anytime you buy it, you’re helping a child come to visit the museum in Winnipeg.”

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Life lessons in many forms

It is amazing how many common themes run through even the most disparate books. The selection reviewed by the Jewish Independent this year includes both picture books and novels for teens; the topics range from genocide and oppression, to a grandmother dying and a family getting a dog; the stories take place in fictional worlds and all too real places. Yet, the vast majority of lessons or values imparted are the same.

The importance of family, friendship, resilience, responsibility, creativity, compassion, caring for those less fortunate or more vulnerable, accepting the reality of death – all make an appearance in the books that follow.

From the wonderfully imaginative mind of Joan Betty Stuchner, who sadly passed away earlier this year, Bagels Come Home (Orca Echoes, 2014) is the story of Bagels, a behavior-challenged but friendly dog that the Bernsteins adopt from a shelter. He joins the family’s goldfish, Lox, and their cat, Creamcheese. However, when it proves almost impossible to train him, 8-year-old Josh (who suggested getting a dog in the first place) and his 5-year-old sister Becky must work together (keenly on her part, not so much on his) to keep their parents from returning Bagels. The black and white illustrations by Dave Whamond complement the jovial energy and mood of Stuchner’s tale.

Inspired by a discussion that author Michelle Gilman had with her children after their grandma (bubbie) died, What Grandma Built (Gilman Press, 2014) deals with death straight on. The book – with colorful, childlike drawings by Jazmin Sasky – introduces readers to Grandma when she falls in love with Grandpa. We share in a few of the highlights of their lives, building a house, having children, becoming grandparents. Much of the story is about the fun times that their grandchildren have with them. But then Grandma becomes ill and, despite all the love and care she receives, passes away. The house that Grandma helped build may not last forever, but the home she built, her “cathedral,” will, “especially in the hearts and memories of our family.”

The Magician of Auschwitz (Second Story Press, 2014) by Kathy Kacer is also based on a true story. During the Holocaust, young Werner – whose father died years ago, whose older sister went into hiding with a Christian family two years earlier and who last saw his mother at the police station where he was held before being sent to the concentration camp – is fortunate to meet Herr Levin, whose wife and son are also in the camp, “somewhere.” A gentle soul, Levin treats Werner with kindness so, when Levin is awakened one night, Werner is afraid he may lose his only friend. However, the guards order Levin: “Do your magic!” And he does. Levin’s magic not only saves his life, but Werner’s – a gift Werner never forgets.

The illustrations by Gillian Newland are in dark, rich tones, appropriate for the subject matter, and brightening for the image of an elder Werner teaching his sons the card trick Levin taught him. The book includes a section about the real-life Werner and Levin (the Great Nivelli).

Lynne Kositsky’s The Plagues of Kondar (Dundurn Press, 2014) takes readers to a planet divided by a dense wall of fog: the sun shines on Lightside, while only darkness prevails on Oscura. Arien, 14 cycles old, lives in Lightside, but her life goes from brightness to hardship soon after we meet her. Short on food supplies, her parents set off to see if another settlement has grain to spare, but they don’t make it back. Sold into slavery to pay her parents’ alleged debts, Arien must be strong, confident, resourceful – and kind – to survive. When some Oscurans inadvertently bring a plague to Lightside, Arien is at the centre of the efforts to cure it, and not just for her own people but for the Oscurans, despite the long-told tales that describe them as “ghosts and ghouls.”

Silvana Goldemberg’s Victoria (Turnaround, 2013) is translated from the Spanish by Emilie Smith. Victoria’s title character and her younger twin brothers live with their aunt until the aunt’s boyfriend attempts to sexually assault the 14-year-old. Victoria flees to the streets of Paraná, Argentina, where she must fend for herself among drug dealers and other dangers. Taking control, and keeping to her personal values, Victoria works hard, makes new friends and builds a life that promises better things for her and her brothers.

Building a new life is also central to Rachel’s Hope (Second Story Press, 2014), the third in Shelly Sanders’ Rachel trilogy. We first met Rachel at age 14, in Kishinev, Russia. Her dreams of being a writer are put on hold, as the murder of a Christian man leads to pogroms and chaos, beginning Easter Sunday 1903; however, among all the bad, she is helped by Sergei, a non-Jewish boy.

The unrest in Russia continues and the next time we meet Rachel, her father has been killed and she and the rest of her family flee to Shanghai, where they save money for a ship to America; Sergei remains in Russia, becoming a factory worker, but the horrid conditions lead him to join the rebellions.

Rachel’s Hope begins in winter 1905: Rachel, her sister and brother-in-law, and their young charge, Menahem, have made it to San Francisco (her mother dies in Shanghai); Sergei is still in Russia, part of the revolutionaries. This part of the trilogy introduces readers to the many challenges immigrants face when coming to a new country, encountering a new language, a new culture. But, as hard as life may be in the United States, as unequal as women’s or immigrants’ rights may be, as hard as it is to recover from a natural disaster (the 1906 earthquake in San Francisco), the comparison with Russia at that point in its history is stark. The devastating effects of violent oppression last well beyond the attainment of freedom.

Sweet holiday story for kids

In Apple Days: A Rosh Hashanah Story by Allison Sarnoff Soffer (Kar-Ben Publishing, 2014), Katy and her classmates share what they like best about Rosh Hashanah with their teacher. Katy recalls how each year she and her mom go apple picking, return home, and then Katy helps her mom make applesauce.

This year’s day goes on the calendar, and it seems like the whole community is looking forward to it, when a family “crisis” arises.

Soon the word spreads that apple-picking day is not going to happen but, soon enough, friends, community members and Katy’s father become involved, leading to a happy ending for all.

This book for children ages 2 to 7 is not only fun to read but it teaches important lessons about what happens when a family has to have flexibility and what can happen when you share your problems with your friends and community for support.

Sarnoff Soffer teaches at a preschool school in Chevy Chase, Md., where she lives with her husband and children. This is her first book. Illustrator Bob McMahon provides cartoon-like, colorful drawings. A recipe for applesauce is included.

Sybil Kaplan is a foreign correspondent, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She has compiled nine kosher cookbooks. She leads weekly walks in English in the Jewish produce market, Machaneh Yehudah, and writes the restaurant features for Janglo, the oldest, largest website in Israel for English-speakers.

Waldman Library’s holiday books for kids

Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are nearly here! A memorable way to include some special inspiration for you and your children is to drop into the Isaac Waldman Jewish Public Library, where you’ll find a great variety of books perfect for both celebrating both of the High Holidays. Here are just a few of the new children’s books that you can find on loan.

What a Way to Start a New Year! A Rosh Hashanah Story. The complexities of both family and relating to a new community are thoughtfully explored in story of Dina and her family moving to a new city via the great value and resilience of tradition renewed in the High Holidays. Dina’s family life is expressively and colorfully illustrated by Judy Stead.

I’m Sorry Grover: A Rosh Hashanah Tale. Part of the enduring Shalom Sesame series, this is a delightful introduction to all the important aspects of Rosh Hashanah. Dear old Grover tells the funny adventure of Brosh, who has misplaced his favorite blue, woolly hat. In his search, his doubts are resolved and confidence and New Year happiness restored.

Apple Days: A Rosh Hashanah Story. Every year, in preparation for the holiday, Katy and her mom pick enough apples to make their special sauce. But this year brings the birth of a new baby cousin for Katy, so, apple picking is off. Not to worry, the family’s friends and neighbors come to the rescue. Dynamic illustrations complete a story as fresh and crisp as a first, sweet autumn apple.

The library has dozens of other books on the High Holidays, including the Sammy Spider’s First Series that are very popular with preschoolers, as well as lots of board books for babies and toddlers.

Take the books home or read in the library. Babas and Zaydas can drop in with their grandchildren, who can choose their favorite holiday story.

To see a complete list of library books, check out the library catalogue at jcclibrary.ca.

Glick’s one-state solution

The two-state solution was one of the most talked about issues in the conflict between Israelis and Palestinians. Not everyone is talking about a two-state solution these days, however. As a regular reader of Jerusalem Post columnist Caroline Glick, I was interested to read her most recent book, The Israeli Solution (Crown Forum, 2014), in which she introduces her vision of a one-state plan, and challenges the assumptions two-staters make about the demographic threats that are supposed to be inherent in a one-state future. Glick also considers what might be the international response to such a plan, as well as the risks and benefits to all the players.

In her preface, Glick makes it clear that “the time has come for American policy makers to reconsider their devotion to the two-state formula and consider an alternative policy that makes sense both for the United States and for the Middle East.”

She presents a history of Israel, then provides a look at both Yasser Arafat and current Palestinian Authority President Mahmoud Abbas, as well as reviews the history of Hamas. She states her incredulity that Western leaders acknowledge Hamas as a terrorist organization but fail to see that Hamas is the same as Arafat, Abbas and others who support terrorism and advance the cause of Israel’s destruction.

Glick also discusses the origins of the often-confused term Palestina, which the Romans incorporated to wipe out the Jewish identity of the land of Israel because it connected the identity of the land to the ancient Philistines.

She analyzes Israel’s national rights to Judea and Samaria and the term “West Bank,” coined by the Jordanians, “who instigated their occupation of the areas in order to ground their claim to sovereignty on an intuited but nonexistent political link between the west bank of the Jordan River and the east bank of the river which was Jordan.”

Many people toss around the term “demographic threat” based on misinformation about the Arab population, contends Glick. She writes that “the real demographic threat that Israel faces is not that the Palestinians will become the majority west of the Jordan River. The real demographic threat is that if a Palestinian state is created, vast numbers of Palestinians will flee to Israel … and a sufficient number will emigrate to Judea and Samaria from surrounding Arab countries to overwhelm Israel.”

In conclusion, she makes her points very clear that “the Palestinian conflict with Israel is a function of the larger Arab and Islamic world’s refusal to accept that Israel has a right to exist.” The Arab states exploit their politics and foreign policies as a means to coerce the Americans into taking actions to appease them, she argues.

“The United States has a paramount national security interest in ensuring the military strength and social cohesion of the Jewish state,” writes Glick. Israel is America’s only remaining ally in the Middle East, and in her comparison of the Obama and Bush administrations’ policy speeches, Glick finds them “substantially indistinguishable.”

An extensive bibliography and notes closes the book.

Christianity stands accused

The Catholic Church did not initiate diplomatic relations with the state of Israel until 1993 and, according to the Italian writer Giulio Meotti, things haven’t been all rainbows since then either.

The creation of a thriving Jewish state creates a theological conundrum for the Catholic Church, Meotti writes in The Vatican Against Israel: J’Accuse (Mantua Books, 2013), because it is a refutation of the theological view that Judaism should wither and die in the shadow of a successor religion, Christianity. The theological imperative of Jewish disappearance is now accompanied, he writes, by a geopolitical imperative that Israel should vanish.

“Replacement theology stated that Christians had inherited the covenant and replaced the Jews as the Chosen People. The concept of replacement geography similarly replaces the historical connection of one people to the land with a connection between another people and the land,” Meotti writes. “The existence of a restored Israel in the land of the Bible, proof that the Jewish people is not annihilated, assimilated and withering away, is the living refutation of the Christian myth about the Jewish end in the historical process.”

The necessity of rejecting Zionism and, in its time, Israel, bested even the liberalizing influence of the Second Vatican Council, the near-revolutionary reconsideration that took place within Catholicism in the early 1960s. This period, which saw the Church recognize Judaism and Christianity as familial theologies and renounce the millennia-old deicide charge against the Jews, nevertheless has a stream that abhors Zionism. Meotti writes that two conflicting Vatican tendencies developed at that time and still dominate: “theological dialogue with Judaism, and political support for the Arabs.” (The gushing lamentation offered by the Vatican on the death of Yasser Arafat is particularly striking.)

Meotti contends that this process has involved the Catholic Church differentiating between “good” and “docile” Jews of the Diaspora and the “bad” and “arrogant” Jews of Israel.

The book is a litany of indictments. The Church had relations with the PLO before it had relations with Israel. Top Church leaders have repeatedly accused Israel of behaving like Nazis. They routinely use crucifixion motifs in the Israeli-Palestinian context, with Jews playing the Romans and Palestinians, of course, playing the beatific victim. Israel, said one archbishop, was imposing “the sufferings of the passion of Jesus on the Arab Christians.” Another, at the time of the Palestinians’ seizure of the Church of the Nativity in Bethlehem, declared: “Our Palestinian people in Bethlehem died like a crucified martyr.” Arafat himself jumped on the bandwagon, declaring: “Jesus Christ was the first Palestinian fedayeen who carried his sword along the road on which today the Palestinians carry their cross.”

The first translation into Arabic of the Protocols of the Elders of Zion was courtesy of the Catholic Church. One archbishop was convicted of using his immunity to smuggle explosives to Palestinian terrorists and served just four years of his 12-year term after intervention by the Pope and a promise to make no more trouble. (He turned up again in 2010 on the fatal “Freedom Flotilla” that sought to bring aid to Hamas terrorists and has goaded Palestinian Christians to violence, insisting it is the only thing that will move Israelis.) Today, Catholic-affiliated nongovernmental organizations are among the leaders in the anti-Israel boycott, divestment and sanctions movement.

The Vatican’s relationship to the Holocaust is particularly dissolute. Pope John Paul II, in 1979, spoke at Auschwitz, noting that “six million Poles lost their lives during the Second World War, one-fifth of the nation,” failing to note that these were almost all Jews. Instead, he called Auschwitz “the Golgotha of the contemporary world,” Golgotha being the place in Jerusalem where Jesus is said to have been crucified.

More perversely, after visiting Mauthausen, the Pope said that the Jews “enriched the world by their suffering,” He seemed to be echoing the thoughts of John Cardinal O’Connor, then archbishop of New York, who a year earlier had visited Yad Vashem, Israel’s Holocaust museum, and asserted that “the Holocaust is an enormous gift that Judaism has given to the world.”

John Paul also infuriated Jews, among others, by conferring a papal knighthood on Kurt Waldheim, the former Austrian president, United Nations secretary-general and Nazi war criminal.

When Jews objected to a proposal to build a Carmelite convent at Auschwitz, the mother superior of the order asked: “Why do the Jews want special treatment in Auschwitz only for themselves? Do they still consider themselves the Chosen People?”

The “J’Accuse” part, which channels the moral outrage of Emile Zola, is fair enough, but this book is only partly about the Vatican. Meotti dredges up equally egregious affronts perpetrated by countless other Christian denominations.

The book is a searing indictment of the Catholic Church, but it is also deeply flawed. At the least, the title is deceptive. The “J’Accuse” part, which channels the moral outrage of Emile Zola, is fair enough, but this book is only partly about the Vatican. Meotti dredges up equally egregious affronts perpetrated by countless other Christian denominations. By no means is Meotti’s condemnation limited to the Vatican, and it is difficult to discern why the title should suggest it is.

Meotti frequently puts uncited statements in quotations. For example, during the 1967 war, when Israel faced annihilation from the Arab states, Meotti claims the Vatican gave the order: “Cheer for the other side.” The quote marks suggest someone literally said this, but whom? On another occasion, he attributes, in quotes, the statement “Jerusalem must be Judenrein.” But who is alleged to have said it? One can also frequently sense comments being stretched out of context to fit the thesis.

Too many times to count, Meotti declares one Christian assertion or another “a blood libel.” The term’s over-usage diminishes whatever power the accusation carries. And nowhere is his over-usage more disturbing than in his casual, often flippant invocation of Nazism.

He writes, “Like Hitlerism, Palestinianism is not a national identity, but a criminal ideological construct…. Worse, the Netanya Passover bombing that killed 30 is a “mini Holocaust.” And, “The dark irony is that the Europeans who are supporting the Palestinians’ ‘right of return’ are living in homes stolen from Jews they helped to gas.”

Meotti’s book has the potential to make an important case against Christian antisemitism and anti-Zionism. While it doesn’t fail completely – the evidence being compendious – the charge to the jury is so overwrought that one feels resentful at being manipulated. The facts would speak for themselves if the author would step back a bit.

Pat Johnson is a Vancouver writer and principal in PRsuasiveMedia.com.

Ancient hatred writ large

Near the end of World Without Jews (Yale University Press, 2014), we find this passage from a letter written in June of 1943 by a Wehrmacht officer named Wilm Hosenfeld, a Catholic, a schoolteacher in civilian life who had come to know a lot about the fate of the Jews deported from the Warsaw Ghetto: “With this terrible mass murder of the Jews we have lost the war. We have brought upon ourselves an indelible disgrace, a curse that can never be lifted. We deserve no mercy, we are all guilty.” Hosenfeld was later captured by the Soviets and died in a Siberian gulag.

The remarkable thing about this letter is not just that it was written, but that its author was a member of the notorious Sturmabteilung who later became a full member of the Nazi party. One may ask: doesn’t the fact that one Nazi could feel this way repudiate the “we had no choice – we were following orders” excuse so often heard from other Holocaust perpetrators?

These are the kinds of questions posed in the meticulously researched new book by Israeli-born historian Alon Confino of Ben-Gurion University and the University of Virginia, which draws upon many non-traditional sources to present an answer to a new Holocaust question: not whether or not the Holocaust was intentional, or how it was carried out, but rather how did Germans come to conceive of a world without Jews? (And, as Confino makes clear: it was indeed a world without Jews, not a Germany without Jews, that the Nazis envisioned.)

Drawing upon untraditional sources, many of which have only recently been found or made available – wartime letters, diaries, journals, newspapers and photographs – Confino provides a shocking answer to this question: “Germany went after the Jews … not in spite of being a nation of high culture but because it was such a nation…. The Nazis perpetrated the Holocaust in the name of culture.”

Confino notes that the burning of the Bible was a Nazi obsession: thousands and thousands of Bibles were heaped on the flames, culminating in the great fires of Kristallnacht, during which not only Bibles, but 1,400 synagogues were set on fire.

Confino’s goal in World Without Jews is precisely to explore the very backgrounds and influences that created a uniquely genocidal culture. He begins his quest at a new starting point by asking, if Nazi policies were fueled by master-class racism, why were the Nazis so anxious to prioritize the burning of the Bible? Confino notes that the burning of the Bible was a Nazi obsession: thousands and thousands of Bibles were heaped on the flames, culminating in the great fires of Kristallnacht, during which not only Bibles, but 1,400 synagogues were set on fire.

Confino’s subject, then, is not Auschwitz, as it is of many Holocaust historians. Rather, it is this: how could Germans imagine a world without Jews? Where could such an absurd, fantastic notion come from? How could it become legitimized? How could it possibly be carried out?

Confino is certain of one thing: the Judeocide was fully anticipated before it began in 1941. This conviction contradicts that of most Holocaust historians, who feel that the Holocaust was an ex tempore “solution” to the “Jewish Problem” raised by the German forces’ occupation of Eastern Europe. Not so, says Confino, because the Holocaust was a result of “an accumulation of ancient [largely Christian] hatreds” fueled by 19th-century nation-building and given precedent by the mass murders perpetrated around the world in the 19th century by British, French, Dutch and Belgian colonizers. But why Jews? Why was their extermination seen as so central to German survival?

Confino’s answer to this question is that Jewish culture had always been a culture of chaim, of life; the Nazis wanted to found a culture of death. To do so, they had to “eliminate the shackles of a past tradition” to “liberate their imagination to open up new emotional, historical and moral horizons that enable them to imagine and to create their empire of death.” Thus, life-centred Jews had to go, and their books with them.

What we have here, in other words, is “the first experiment in the total creation of a new humanity achieved by extermination, a humanity liberated from the moral shackles of its past.”

On the question of who knew what was happening, Confino is uncompromising: no one in Germany could not have known – not necessarily about the mass murders, but that “something terrible” was happening.

On the question of who knew what was happening, Confino is uncompromising: no one in Germany could not have known – not necessarily about the mass murders, but that “something terrible” was happening. To prove his point, Confino cites hundreds of articles, pamphlets, radio speeches and photographs “showing what Germans saw when they walked in the street, drove on the road, or made their way to work” – all of which refer to the need to eliminate the “Jewish influence.”

In Confino’s view, the extermination of the Jews was fully intentional; all it required was a passive populace, and the active participation of the Christian Church. The Nazis got both, in spades.

Confino doesn’t hesitate to directly implicate the Christian Church in the Nazis’ program to eradicate Christianity’s Jewish origins: time and again he reasserts the “fundamental affinity” between Nazism and Christianity regarding the need to eliminate Christianity’s “Jewish roots.” The difference between them was that for the Nazis, they produced Christ; for the Church, it was because they killed him.

Nazism, then, was to be a new Bereishit, a new beginning point. Canadian scholar Northrop Frye said often that Western culture was permanently “anchored” in the Bible: the Nazi project was to cut this anchor and drop a new one, rooted in the crazed dogmas of Mein Kampf. Getting rid of Jews was, in other words, “akin to making a clean historical slate.”

One of the most unforgettable and heretofore never published photos contained in World Without Jews, shows a small statue of a crucified Christ in front of a church in Westphalia. Under the statue, in large letters, there is the sign “No Jews Allowed.” Just over the head of the Christ are the letters “INRI”: that is, in Latin, “Jesus of Nazareth, King of the Jews.” May this irony not be lost and, to that end, may we be thankful for books such as Confino’s World Without Jews.

Graham Forst, PhD, taught literature and philosophy at Capilano University until his retirement and now teaches in the continuing education departments at Simon Fraser University, University of British Columbia and Banff School of Fine Arts. From 1975 to 2010, he co-chaired the symposium committee of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre.

Chua and Rubenfeld attempt to explain success

Jews are the quintessential successful minority group by any economic measure. They are disproportionately represented in the top rankings in business, finance, the arts, scientific research, architecture, medicine and law.

Likewise, Mormons and new immigrants to the United States from China, Cuba, India, Lebanon, Nigeria and Iran make the A-list in several sectors of the economy. Meanwhile, black Americans and other groups are stuck in poverty with high unemployment and poor education.

Those are bold statements that many will dismiss as thoughtless stereotypes. But are the generalizations baseless?

The Triple Package: How Three Unlikely Traits Explain the Rise and Fall of Cultural Groups in America (Penguin Press, 2014) is an exploration into the murky world of these sweeping statements. Amy Chua, the “tiger mom” who gained notoriety for her harsh approach to child-rearing, teams up with her accomplished husband Jed Rubenfeld to investigate some of the reasons why some groups rise to the top of their fields, become wealthy and win awards while others seem to be stuck in a rut.

They look for similarities in the lives of numerous celebrities, corporate leaders and ordinary folks, both those who have done well and those who have failed. They dissect statistics from census tracks that identify highest income and medium household net worth for different ages within several racial, cultural and religious groups. They count CEOs and CFOs, the percentage of students at Harvard and other Ivy League schools, and the winners of Nobel Prizes, as well as cultural awards such as Pulitzers and Academy Awards. They slice and dice the numbers in numerous ways and come out with specific cultural traits – a set of values and beliefs, habits and practices – that they conclude are similar among all the overachieving groups.

• Disproportionately successful groups have a deeply internalized belief in the specialness or superiority of their group, rooted in theology, history or a social hierarchy from their homeland.

• Members of the group have a feeling of insecurity and anxiety about losing whatever they have. They feel what they do is never good enough.

• Those that succeed emphasize discipline and controlling impulses. They stand up to temptation and persevere despite difficulties.

The authors conclude that people grappling with a superiority complex and deep insecurities are often consumed with resentments that push them to overachieve. The chip-on-the-shoulder attitude feeds their ambition and creates an “I’ll show them” mentality. Impulse control mixed with strong ambition yields a toughness and resilience. Members of the group who succeed found virtue in enduring hardships, deferring gratification and standing up to adversity.

There is some truth in what they write. The biographies of prominent Jewish figures often include anecdotes reflecting those traits. Although Jews are “Chosen People,” they are haunted, at least in the world of Philip Roth and Woody Allen, by insecurities stemming from unrelenting parental pressure and social scorn, real and imagined. Impulse control has been foundational to Judaism religion, with its 613 injunctions, and its countless prescriptions for a traditional Jewish way of life. It is those forces that Chua and Rubenfeld say converge to produce success.

Jewish overachievers are not the only ones. Chua and Rubenfeld find parallels with the traits of the disproportionate number of Mormons who are top executives of Fortune 500 companies, with Asian American students with the highest grades (but reportedly the lowest self-esteem of any racial group), and Cubans in Miami who have become millionaires and hold a disproportionate number of managerial and professional positions in the city, and dominate local politics. Other immigrant groups under similar pressures also do well.

But such sweeping statements set off alarms. Caustic reviews since the book was released earlier this year dismissed their conclusions as racist, faulty social science and, some may say even worse, dull prose. Reviewers attacked Chua and Rubenfeld, two Yale University law professors, for sloppy thinking and loose use of language.

Chua and Rubenfeld are accustomed to public attention, although usually of a different sort. Chua was on Time magazine’s list of the 100 most influential people in the world after the release of her book Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother in 2011. Rubenfeld has written two international bestselling novels and two books on constitutional law.

They challenge those who assume equality is always beneficial. They suggest that promoting self-esteem, instant gratification and excessive freedom in parenting may be counter-productive.

Clearly frustrated by the response to their new book, Chua and Rubenfeld have said their work has been misunderstood and misrepresented. They believe they have been aggressively attacked because their conclusions run counter to contemporary political correctness. They challenge those who assume equality is always beneficial. They suggest that promoting self-esteem, instant gratification and excessive freedom in parenting may be counter-productive.

They attribute the uproar over the book also to an aversion to talk about opinions about various cultural, ethnic and religious groups doing significantly better than others, views that are often expressed privately but not in a public forum.

They got that right. It’s a minefield filled with explosive emotions and ugly name-calling. However, they are right in insisting that the overheated rhetoric contributes nothing to an understanding of the subject. We should not avoid discussion of hot issues, especially those that have given rise to some of the worst atrocities in the world. Chua and Rubenfeld raise matters that should engage society in dispassionate debate.

So let’s turn the spotlight on their generalizations about cultural traits to see whether they stand up.

Chua and Rubenfeld try to inoculate their conclusions from criticism with 78 pages of notes and listing the names of 50 research assistants who worked with them. They claim statements about economic performance and cultural attitudes are backed up by empirical, historical or sociological evidence. “But when there are differences between groups, we will come out and say so,” they write.

They look at characteristics of those struggling in poverty and at a variety of explanations for their situation, such as IQ levels. They conclude that the disparities between rich and poor cannot be explained by these alternatives.

They also note the transitory nature of the accomplishments achieved through the sense of superiority, insecurities and hard work. Success wipes out insecurity and eases assimilation; equality undermines personal ambition. They conclude that traits that helped disproportionately successful groups rarely survive beyond the first two generations.

They downplay the impact of politics, social institutions and education. Personal responsibility plays virtually no role in their theories. Factors that have nothing to do with religion, culture or race, such as the lack of opportunity, discrimination and the devastating impact of economic forces, are minimized. Chua and Rubenfeld gloss over examples that do not fit their theories.

Despite their extensive references to research, the book reads as if Chua and Rubenfeld started with conclusions and then went out to find evidence to back up what they wanted to say. Focusing on cultural traits has blinded them to other influences. They downplay the impact of politics, social institutions and education. Personal responsibility plays virtually no role in their theories. Factors that have nothing to do with religion, culture or race, such as the lack of opportunity, discrimination and the devastating impact of economic forces, are minimized. Chua and Rubenfeld gloss over examples that do not fit their theories. Are they cherry-picking results and leaving out conflicting evidence? An answer to that question will be left to the experts in the field.

Anticipating probably the most controversial attack, the charge of racism, the authors write they are identifying psychological attitudes, not characteristics from birth. They acknowledge that significant differences exist within every racial, cultural and religious group. Even the subgroups they identify were not monolithic. But, they say, that did not make the culture traits less real or powerful.

They also anticipate critics who say the traits they celebrate often do not lead to happiness. They acknowledge that the attributes of success come with their own distinctive pathology that misshaped lives. Deeply insecure people were often neurotic and a sense of superiority led to arrogance and easily morphed into racism. They concede that the “triple package” might not be a recipe for happiness. Indeed, the rewards of the triple package were mostly financial. However, they posit that material success can lay the foundation for a happier life.

So, what are we left with after so many qualifications? As pop sociology, the book provides numerous provocative sparks for conversation around the Shabbat table. They identify some traits of some people who have achieved much. But many would insist their glib generalizations are just plain wrong. At times, they seem to give the strongest arguments against their own conclusions. And, even if you accept what they say, it is doubtful that many parents would want their children to follow the direction that Chua and Rubenfeld have set out.

Media consultant Robert Matas, a former Globe and Mail journalist, still reads books. The Triple Package: How Three Unlikely Traits Explain the Rise and Fall of Cultural Groups in America is available at the Isaac Waldman Jewish Public Library. To reserve this book, or any other, call 604-257-5181 or email [email protected]. To view the catalogue, visit jccgv.com and click on Isaac Waldman Library.

PhD research sparks fiction

Shirley Graetz’s She Wrote on Clay (Hadley Rille Books, 2013) is so intriguing, so mesmerizing, so unique, so well-written, I could not put it down!

Graetz was born in Dusseldorf, Germany. She came to study at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and never left Israel. Her master’s degree and her doctorate are in ancient Near Eastern studies, and she is a licensed tour guide and a teacher, married and mother of three young children.

She explains that, while conducting her PhD research at Ben-Gurion University in 2011, she was working on letters written by women who were naditu, monastic women who lived around 1800 BCE, about the time of Abraham, in Mesopotamia (ancient Iraq).

She had never written fiction before but, she says, “The women started to talk to me in my head. I had just given birth to my third child (the other two were 2 and 4), it was the second year of my PhD, but I sat down and wrote for three days. It was as if the story wrote itself.”

The texts were originally in cuneiform on clay tablets, in Akkadian, an ancient language. Some of these women were scribes. They lived in the equivalent of a walled compound called a gagu, but each woman had her own house or room. They all came from wealthy families, and there were different gagus in different cities. By becoming a naditu, each woman foreswore marriage and children, but her family provided her with food and clothing. However, the women had to be successful in business in order to remain financially independent.

The most prominent gagu was in Sippar, Meospotamia, a city on the banks of the Euphrates River, from which we have the most texts.

The novel revolves around 16-year-old Iltani, whose goal in life is to become a scribe. The best way to achieve this is to become a naditu and go to a gagu, which she will do in three months; her aunt and a childhood friend also live there. Her father has paid a naditu there to teach her to be a scribe. Once she enters, she will not visit her family for two years.

When she enters, there is a ceremony as she leaves her family and is welcomed by the priests, the making of temple offerings and her initiation. Her life then begins, and this forms the bulk of the book – focusing on her day-to-day life, the process of learning to be a scribe, her relationships with her aunt and friend, as well as conflicts within the gagu and her other relationships, until she is 25, already nine years in the gagu.

The surprising turns add much to the enjoyment of this read, and the meticulous details described about the home life, the clothes, the food, the customs in Sippar, are also part of the fascination of this story about what I would call “feminist women of 4,000 years ago.”