Opinion

Need holistic approach

Prime Minister Mark Carney delivered a much-vaunted statement on Canada’s antisemitism crisis last week. It was unlikely to satisfy everyone – partly because there is only so much a single government can do about a global social phenomenon like escalating Jew-hatred.

Even by the standards of that acknowledgement, the address, delivered in Toronto’s Holy Blossom Temple, seemed like a significant missed opportunity.

Some might have expected Canada to appoint a Royal Commission that would investigate the problem of antisemitism in this country, as Australia has done. That, too, likely would have been criticized as kicking the problem down the road.

Instead, Carney announced something called the Ministerial Advisory Council on Rights, Equality and Inclusion, under the stewardship of Marc Miller, the minister of Canadian identity and culture. The council’s mission seems reasonable enough: analyzing “the nature, scale and drivers of antisemitism in Canada – including across our public institutions, workplaces, campuses, public services, professional bodies and online spaces”; coordinating a “whole-of-federal-government approach”; improving research and the collection of data on hate incidents; and “measure[ing] the impact of our efforts, to reinforce those investments in education, prevention, training and community safety that are delivering real results and helping to build a safer, more inclusive Canada for all.”

Lovely enough, though Carney’s speech seemed defensive on at least two fronts. First, he insisted none of this would impinge free expression, which came across as a bit of a sop to those who insist that there should be no limits to the Jew-hatred and anti-Israel bombast on Canadian streets, in classrooms and at workplaces. Further, while insisting that antisemitism is a top priority and that it would be moved to the top of the new council’s agenda, the council is, in the end, a broadly mandated body with a massive jurisdictional swath including, as its name states, amorphous “rights, equality and inclusion.” At a time when many Jews feel like their interests cannot be addressed without an addendum acknowledging the concerns of a laundry list of other equity-seeking peoples, the assignment of antisemitism to this omnibus-type council seems as much an insult as a salve.

What most people did not know during Carney’s speech were the names of the members of the new council. Among them is a lawyer behind a Charter of Rights challenge in defence of anti-Israel encampments. More galling to many is the inclusion of former Liberal MP Omar Alghabra, who has been head of the Canadian Arab Federation, is an admirer of Yasser Arafat, and lobbied to keep Hamas and Hezbollah off Canada’s list of proscribed terrorist entities.

It is an understatement to say that this news undermines the confidence of Jewish (and most reasonable) Canadians that the council will be anything like a panacea for the antisemitism problem. One could hardly conjure council members more likely to raise distrust among Jewish Canadians, no matter how respected any of the other members may be.

Carney also outlined not insignificant steps the government has taken, including funding for programs against radicalization and for Jewish community security. The latter funding is, of course, deeply necessary and appreciated, but also a symptom, rather than a treatment, of the issue.

Rich on bromides and with a requisite quote from Elie Wiesel, the prime minister’s speech probably struck most Canadian Jews as bland and empty. Carney uttered not a word about Israel or antizionism. More than this, the role of Islamic extremism as a major source of antisemitism in Canada was addressed only indirectly. As many commentators have noted, if we are too afraid to even acknowledge and name a main driver of the problem, the likelihood of taking steps that will resolve it seems very remote.

At a minimum, the PM’s address gives a benchmark with which to measure success or failure in the next few years. Any progress brought about by the work of the council and the other steps Carney noted, including Bill C-9 regarding hate propaganda, hate crimes and access to religious or cultural places, will be welcomed. The government should be held to account for any shortcomings.

As important as government action is, that alone will not have the impact necessary if there is not a significant upswell in public demand for change. While Carney called for a “whole-of-federal-government approach,” we need an all-of-society approach, with civic groups, media, the corporate sector and, especially, individual Canadians, speaking up against antisemitism.

Cutting grass with scissors

Nine years ago, I was walking with my twins, then age 6, to synagogue, when we passed an older woman in her yard, using scissors to cut the grass along the boulevard. At that moment, herding Grade 1 kids along, it felt hard to imagine why anyone would do this. It became a discussion topic. Why was this lady using scissors to do this? Was this a sign she wasn’t feeling well (in “kid” talk, aka mental illness)? Did we have to do something to help? We passed this person and her lawn several times on Saturday mornings that summer.

Recently, I, too, was using scissors to cut the lawn. I wanted to plant some runner beans along our chain link fence. Cutting the longer grass thatch away from this small space before planting was hard to do with our manual reel lawn mower, but the scissors made quick work of the problem. Within moments, I’d cleared away a strip of two to three inches on each side of the fence. With a satisfyingly large pile of thatch and grass for the yard waste, I was ready to start planting.

This morning, during a heat wave, I was using our mower, which is powered only by human efforts, no gas, no electricity, just a quiet whirr as it works. It struck me that people would look at me the way we looked at the neighbour cutting grass with her scissors. We choose a more environmentally friendly, retro, way to mow. Yes, it’s slower and more work. Yet, cutting the lawn is remarkably Zen. It’s an exercise in meditation, even when it’s hot out.

Modern spirituality often uses words like Zen, flow, meditation, spiritually alive and “finding deeper meaning” to help us access these experiences. These buzz words are supposed to differentiate spirituality from religion. As is, “I’m not religious or observant, but I’m spiritual.” Still, there’s nothing new about the concepts behind these terms. Our ancestors also worked to find flow or a Zen state of “being nothing” (a Buddhist/East Asian concept) in their lives.

I pondered this while attending an after-Kiddush lunch learning session on Shabbat. The speaker, a therapist, introduced the notion of mussar to the crowd with words like “journey” and “spiritual growth.” He spoke for 45 minutes. I wished I’d gone home to nap. The speaker, recently trained to discuss this Jewish concept, quoted a saying of the Kotzker Rebbe, Rabbi Menachem Mendel of Kotzk (1787-1859), but didn’t even give his name.

To summarize the core concepts of mussar to a friend later, here’s what I knew before the talk:

Mussar was invented in the 19th century in Lithuania based, in part, on medieval Jewish texts. It focuses on moral conduct and positive character building from a Jewish perspective via specific values such as humility and gratitude. Practitioners explore these values via self-reflection, meditation, pair and group dialogue. This growth is intended to be an ongoing self-improvement effort to draw the individual soul towards the Divine.

Aside from concluding that I may not be destined for these 45 minute after-lunch sessions, I also summed this up in four sentences without using any buzz words to express it. There’s nothing wrong with learning mussar. It’s an approximately 170-year-old form of modern group and individual self-betterment and therapy, through a Jewish lens. This presentation offered it in 21st-century lingo.

Summer is a great time for celebrations, but it’s also a time to embrace the meditative moments of just being, like hearing the water hit the shore at the ocean, swinging in a hammock, laying in the grass watching clouds, digging in the dirt or pushing the mower back and forth in straight rows. Some of my most transcendent Jewish prayer experiences have happened at Jewish summer camp, outside, singing in harmony while overlooking the lake. The sunshine and the bugs and birds singing – it’s all a chance to slow down and enjoy amazing moments of wonder and observation in the natural world. It’s a moment to express gratitude for the divine creation we get to experience.

I, for one, feel wrought up over wars, constant misinformation, concern about relatives and friends in Israel, and in need of more calm. Closer to home, the recent data about the rise in Canadian antisemitic incidents can put a Jewish person’s nervous system in high alert. It’s legitimate to feel anxiety. Still, that’s not healthy all the time.

For many, big gatherings in the sunshine are not what helps us relax. It’s the quiet state that comes from “being nothingness,” according to the Buddhists, our own Jewish traditions and from being alone outdoors and celebrating G-d’s creation.

Maintaining wonder comes in different forms for all of us. It’s OK to find that flow state, or, as Rabbi Sari Laufer expressed it in a recent Torah commentary about the parsha (portion) Naso: “Flow is the mental state where we are deeply immersed, focused and energized – so much so that time disappears. We forget to eat and sleep. Flow is a peak experience of purpose, creativity and connection. Crucially, flow is not meant to be permanent. We are designed to move in and out of it. A person living perpetually in flow would burn out, would find it utterly unsustainable.”

Settling down our nervous systems, escaping that adrenalin-fueled anxiety, is essential to maintaining balance during difficult times. One way to do that is through flow-state activities, whether grounded in mussar, daily routines, knitting or attending minyan. It’s sometimes found in a long walk to shul. Still others find it by trimming the grass by hand, a few blades at a time, with scissors. I think back on that woman, sitting on the ground, rapt with concentration, and marvel. In the Babylonian Talmud, in the Tractate of Berachot, on page 62a, the rabbis recount stories of students following their mentors to the bathroom and even the bedroom. Why? Everyday activities can be holy and essential to our wellbeing. Like cutting blades of grass, staring at the clouds, or finding one’s flow state – this is also Torah.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Zionism as a solution

(internet photo)

On May 17, Tafsik Organization and Stop Antizionism hosted a full-day World Symposium Against Antizionism. With justifiable pride, the organizers declared that this was the first conference in the world specifically dedicated to combating antizionism. Keynote speaker was Ben Shapiro, co-founder of The Daily Wire, along with Gad Saad, Eve Barlow, Leora Shemesh and a packed A-list of inspiring Jewish leaders from around the world.

The fire of Jew-hatred has been ravaging the Jewish community across our country, and elsewhere, and absolutely every option must be considered to put it out. At the same time, I wonder, What if this conference had been organized around the topic of Zionism, where these same speakers focused on all the many visions, projects and ways that Jews everywhere could support the cause of Zionism?

Whether you identify more with Zionism, Jewish peoplehood, Israel or Judaism, if we really want to declare war on antizionism and antisemitism, I think it is by embracing everything that makes us proud to be Jewish and to live Jewishly. For every action each of us takes to combat antisemitism/antizionism, imagine the impact if we also did an equal action that deepens our Jewish identity. Consider it a one-to-one combating antisemitism, promoting Zionism challenge.

As Canadian Jews, we have endured longstanding discrimination. Many of us remain vigilant, knowing our lives will be shaped by the latest surge of “protesters” in Jewish neighbourhoods, or by flash mobs of such protesters at Toronto subway stations or at public forums like Phillips Square in Montreal. where effigies were hung.

When, in Vancouver, someone sets fire to the entrance of Schara Tzedeck Synagogue and the Jewish Federation of BC reports that 62% of Jewish community members have experienced at least one antisemitic incident, wearing Jewish symbols in public is an act of pride and defiance against any of our fellow Canadians who secretly, or openly, hate us for being Jews.

Even before Oct. 7, 2023, B’nai Brith recorded that, in Canada, in 2021, for the sixth consecutive year, records were set for antisemitic incidents in the country, reaching 2,799 that year. In their recently released 2025 Annual Audit of Antisemitic Incidents, B’nai Brith found there were 6,800 incidents of antisemitism documented that year.

Zach Bodner, chief executive officer of the Palo Alto Jewish community centre and the head of the Zionism 3.0 movement, declares: “We have to stop pretending that anti-antisemitism will keep Judaism alive for the next generation…. We have to stop believing that fighting against antizionism will keep our kids loving Israel.”

Rabbi David Hartman, in his 1982 essay “Auschwitz or Sinai?” challenges us to examine if we will live our Judaism shaped by trauma, persecution and hatred, or if will we be shaped by covenant, responsibility and moral purpose. “It was not Hitler who brought us back to Zion, but rather belief in the eternal validity of the Sinai covenant,” he wrote.

Recently, as a simple test, I went to the Jewish Independent archives and clicked on the antisemitism tag, I found 45 pages of articles. When I went to the Zionism tag, I found only four, but the tag for Israel had 111 pages, while antizionism/anti-Zionism had three pages of results combined.

I then decided to compare the number of articles published in 2026 between the antisemitism and Israel tags. I found about 30 articles in the former and roughly 25 in the latter. Of those 25 Israel stories published in 2026, at least four dealt with antisemitism and included that tag search as well. Of the 21 remaining Israel articles, most could be construed as some form of cultural connection, solidarity with or interest in Israel, more than enough to classify as Zionism.

While close in number, so far in 2026, antisemitism stories are outpacing stories about Israel and/or Zionism. I have no doubt this same test could be used with any other Canadian Jewish publication, with similar findings.

I’m sure we can agree that there is so much more we can do to inspire ourselves and pass the torch from Sinai to our future generations, rather than allow so much of our creative and intellectual drive and energy to be focused on those who hate us.

We are living in the aftermath of 1948, the year when we Jews finally transformed the seemingly impossible dream of reestablishing statehood into reality. We have a strong North American Jewish community and representative organizations that make us an undeniable political force.

With these resources that were unimaginable to previous generations of Jews, we have new goals to set, new visions to dream, new swamps to drain, new heights to achieve – as Jews.

So, I ask every one of you reading this: What inspires you about being Jewish? What about Judaism, Zionism or Israel inspires you? What leads you to live a Jewish life and gives you strength during tough times? What drives you to be the best Jew you want to be?

For every statement, action, rally or event you attend where you roar with defiance against our haters, please take a moment to express why you are the Jew you are; how you live Jewishly; and why you are proudly part of the Jewish nation. Your words, your ideas, your vision can and will inspire many others.

Alan Herman has lived in Israel twice, including when attending Ben-Gurion University, where he completed his master’s degree in Middle Eastern studies. He participated in the Quebec-Israel Committee’s parliamentary program in Montreal, and organized many Israel and Zionism related events as a co-chair for the Toronto chapter of the Canadian Institute for Jewish Research from 2013 to 2025. He is a proud member of the board of Upstanders Canada.

Wrong person rebuked

The City of Vancouver’s integrity commissioner this month declared that Mayor Ken Sim breached the city’s code of conduct by criticizing Councilor Sean Orr’s presence and comments at an anti-Israel rally last year.

The report concluded that Sim misused the influence of his office by holding a press conference to criticize Orr over inflammatory social media posts and his attendance at an anti-Israel protest alongside very problematic speakers and organizations. The report said Sim should apologize to Orr or face censure by council.

Ezra Shanken, chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation of British Columbia, said in a statement that the conflict commissioner’s report represented a double standard, and expressed gratitude to the mayor for raising our community’s concerns.

Nico Slobinsky, on behalf of the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, criticized Orr for not showing accountability for past social media posts, including claiming that city planners were controlled by a “secret cabal of Jews,” and calling for the “destruction of both Israel and Canada.” While a city councilor, Orr spoke at the “Flood for Palestine” protest organized by Al-Awda, a group with links to the terrorist entity Samidoun.

The brouhaha at city hall is just one in a small avalanche of administrative, legal and political episodes in recent years that have left many Jews feeling abandoned and betrayed by the institutions and legal protections ostensibly in place to protect them and other minority communities.

Many Jews feel under attack and, despite pleasant words from some elected officials, actual tangible responses often seem weak or absent. For example, the flooding of a Vancouver neighbourhood with hate messages against Jews and Israel have been effectively ignored by city officials. Clearing them away has been left to local residents. Nothing, apparently, has been done to reprimand the individual known to be perpetrating the graffiti and vandalism, despite laws and bylaws against precisely this sort of behaviour.

In Ontario, some progress has been seen recently. Toronto authorities responded to demonstrations in Jewish neighbourhoods by tightening enforcement, restricting marches from entering residential streets, and arresting some participants and investigating alleged incidents of hate speech and public incitement. Ontario’s Premier Doug Ford has been vocal in defending Jewish communities and, no doubt, his unequivocal position gave some political cover to police and others to take action.

No similar political leadership has been seen in British Columbia, where the unresolved case of Charlotte Kates remains a sore point for many in the Jewish community. Vancouver police arrested Kates in April 2024 after remarks at a Vancouver rally in which she praised the Oct. 7 Hamas attacks and venerated their perpetrators as heroic. Police recommended charges for public incitement and wilful promotion of hatred. Nearly two years later, Crown counsel has still not announced a charge decision. Pressed by the Independent, the premier’s office pointed to prosecutorial independence, arguing that charging decisions rest with the BC Prosecution Service, not elected officials.

This may be fair justification, but piled upon so many instances where words and actions that are perceived by Jews as hateful and inciting go officially unchallenged leave many Jewish people with an overall sense that they are being abandoned by those who should be enforcing anti-hate protections.

Parliament is now considering Bill C-9, a proposed online harms law that carries numerous provisions that Jewish leaders support. But many people are leery of more laws that likely will not be enforced, provisions intended to increase safety for minority communities – Jews, in particular – but that will not have their intended impact, whether because police do not enforce them, the Crown does not pursue charges or, if it reaches that level, courts do not convict. The proposed new federal law has much to recommend itself but, if it is just going to be another law on a dusty legal shelf, it will not change the situation we face.

The case of Vancouver’s mayor, who called out egregious incidents only to be called on the carpet himself – and ordered to apologize – portends a chilling on those who would stand up for the Jewish community.

We have laws in this country, but many of them are not being enforced. Very few Jews in this country, we confidently venture, believe the system is working as it should.

Canada’s mixed messages

In mid-May, a Winnipeg Free Press article by John Longhurst announced a new online database for research. This open access resource lists the names of German Nazi party members. The article’s target audience: the Manitoba Mennonite community.

As background: Many German Mennonites, previously pacifist, joined the Nazi party starting in the early 1930s. In the article, Arnold Neufeldt-Fast, a Toronto researcher, said the goal of researching and publicizing the records was not to condemn or shame anyone. “The point,” he said, “is to understand what made their choices feel plausible at the time, and what this means for us now in Canada and the US.” Aileen Friesen, who teaches Mennonite History at the University of Winnipeg, said it could serve “as a lesson for our current time.”

I’m concerned about this “lesson.” Nazi membership before and during the Second World War is nothing to be proud about. Still, this does make it easier to understand the views of some Mennonites in 2026.

Some Winnipeg Mennonites often offer public opinions about Israel, Gaza and the war. They’re staunchly against war, but support Palestinian resistance and are against Israelis or Jews. This stance appears in local Mennonite gallery exhibits, fundraising, petitions and protests. It’s on stickers on lampposts near a neighbourhood Mennonite school. While out walking, I peel off “Free Palestine” stickers with cartoon characters doing a Sieg Heil and QR code stickers with “Boycott Israel.”

This “pacifism” chooses a side just like German Mennonites chose the Nazi party. This stance doesn’t examine what these choices mean to the safety of others, such as Jewish Canadians who live nearby. It doesn’t reflect a morality-based Christian religious tradition or teachings from a Jewish guy named Jesus, let alone Jewish texts or culture.

Actions have consequences. This failure to understand logical outcomes echoes throughout Canadian society. Prime Minister Mark Carney’s Davos speech described Canada’s goals for trade alliances and Canada’s role as a “middle power.” It’s easy to see that this dream is failing on a practical level.

Canada, a “human rights champion,” has an uneven track record. According to United Nations Watch, on April 8, Canada, as part of the 54-nation United Nations Economic and Social Council, “participated in the consensus nomination of the Islamic Republic of Iran” to a committee responsible for funding women’s rights, human rights, and terrorism prevention. The United States was the only nation who objected to this nomination.

Previously, Canada objected in similar UN processes, but, this time, Canada supported the Iranian regime. Iran’s government has enforced a nearly complete internet blackout since Feb. 28. It kills protesters. The regime uses morality police to force women to cover their hair. Female “offenders” suffer arrests, assaults, rapes, torture and murder. Iran’s regime funds terror proxies, including in Gaza, Lebanon and Yemen. Yet, Canada didn’t object to the UN nomination.

Canada also has problems fighting terrorism at home. In October 2024, Canada listed Samidoun, an organization supporting Palestinian terrorism, as a terrorist entity under the Criminal Code. Eventually, in March 2026, Canada revoked Samidoun’s nonprofit status. Based on federal anti-hate provisions, Vancouver police arrested Samidoun’s international coordinator, Charlotte Kates, for inciting hate and released her with conditions. Apparently, those conditions allow speaking on Iranian state television, attending the funeral of Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah in Lebanon and continuing permission to live in Canada. (Kates is an American whose status in Canada is not publicly known.) The same goes for her husband, Khaled Barakat, Samidoun’s founder, who was deported from the United States in 2003.

This spring, Canada welcomed international leaders for the FIFA Congress, including Palestine Football Association head Jibril Rajoub, who was previously convicted of throwing a grenade at an Israeli army bus. Israel later released Rajoub in a prisoner exchange, and he committed further offences. Once in Canada, Rajoub publicly refused to shake hands with the FIFA Arab-Israeli representative, Basim Sheikh Suliman. Meanwhile, Canada refused to let the Iranian FIFA representative into the country. These decisions were inconsistent, not the “pragmatic and principled” actions of a country committed to human rights.

If Canada wishes to be a human rights champion, it must work to stop terrorism at home. The government should protect Canadians from danger. Consistent law and immigration enforcement and UN decisions that support these rights would be a good start.

Education’s another way to be an effective middle power. Increase funding for teaching and researching social sciences, including international relations, political science, religious studies and history. These disciplines offer perspectives to better understand global issues and events. Canada must move beyond popular theories like the oppressor/oppressed model that doesn’t adequately explain conflicts beyond biased white/black racial narratives. This oppressor theory fails in Middle Eastern, African or Asian contexts where Western conceptions of colonization, race and power don’t easily apply.

With a broader social science approach, future Canadian leaders could better understand complicated global situations. Educated Canadians with these skills could better examine global economics, conflicts and the geographic strengths.

For instance, our media and government often ascribe outsized power to Israel. This is a common antisemitic conspiracy theory. Israel’s a tiny democracy of 10 million people, with sizeable minority populations. Many also demonize Binyamin Netanyahu, Israel’s prime minister. Canada, like many Israelis, may not agree with Netanyahu’s government’s policies, but no other Middle Eastern leaders were elected by functioning democracies. Further, media seldom hold any other Middle Eastern country responsible for its role in the conflict.

Canada’s resources, educated population and multicultural diversity could make it a powerhouse. Yet, its foreign policies don’t use intellectual rigour. Historically, Canada has offered up inconsistent international policies, and bias regarding many of its minorities. Past prime ministers have apologized, promising to forge a better Canada. Instead, Canada’s “oppressor” rhetoric poses as a “peaceful” bystander and blames Israel.

Canada has a tradition of simplistic politics of blame like “war is bad.” Our geographic isolation protects us. It allows Canada to watch hate happen and reproach others without getting involved. Our country must accept that consistently being a bystander isn’t good enough. Failing to condemn or shame those who committed grievous wrongs isn’t good enough. It wasn’t OK to join the Nazi party 90 years ago. It wasn’t OK to reject Jewish refugees. We know where this kind of hatemongering leads. Canada, and Canadians, can do better than this.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Questions for museum

The Canadian Museum for Human Rights’ planned exhibit Palestine Uprooted: Nakba Past and Present, set to open in June, is cause for concern. While what will be in the exhibit remains to be seen and is likely not yet finally determined, the very announcement that the exhibit will happen sends out wrong signals.

What are the boundaries of Palestine? There are a wide variety of proposals, as well as significant differences in the historical territory once called Palestine. Whatever those boundaries are, Palestine is land, not people. Contrary to what the title of the exhibit suggests, the land was not uprooted; it is still there.

The reference to land instead of people is a commonplace of antizionism. The PLO is called the Palestine Liberation Organization, not the Palestinian Liberation Organization. Pervasive antizionist pamphlets, posters, placards and signs say “Free Palestine,” not “Free Palestinians.”

For antizionists, this reference to land and not people is deliberate. For antizionists, the land that is now Israel is or should be Arab, Muslim land. That a Jewish state exists on that land means to them, bizarre as it may seem, that the land itself is not free.

Let’s suppose that the museum was not aware of this connotation and what they really meant to write was “Palestinians uprooted.” One question that arises is “Why only Palestinians?” There were more Jewish refugees from Arab countries and Iran created by the refusal of Arab and Muslim states to recognize the existence of Israel and the consequent wars against Israel than Arabs who left Israel during and after the 1948 Arab invasion. An exhibit that addresses the woes of only one side of an armed conflict is patently unbalanced.

Also what was the catastrophe? The text of the announcement of the exhibit states “Palestinians use the word ‘Nakba’ … to describe their forced displacement in 1948.” Some Palestinians indeed use the word in that way. Others use the word to refer to the creation of the state of Israel. For still others, albeit a minority, the catastrophe was the 1948 Arab invasion of Israel and the rejection of the United Nations peace plan, which would have created an Arab state alongside Israel.

Some of those who since 1968 have self-identified as Palestinians were forcibly displaced during the 1948 war. Others fled the crossfire, as the text of the museum announcement of the exhibit acknowledges. Others still left voluntarily, with organized Arab assistance, heeding the calls of Arab leadership to get out of the way of the Arab invasion so that the invaders could target Jews living in Israel without risk of harming Arabs, a reality that the announcement of the exhibit does not mention.

Who are the Palestinians? Does the term include all those present in the territory of former British Mandate Palestine at least two years prior to the time of the 1948 Arab invasion of Israel and who left during that invasion and their descendants, as the United Nations Relief and Works Agency now does? Or, is it limited to “those persons who acquired or had the right to acquire Palestinian nationality as of 6 August 1924” and their descendants, the PLO proposal of 2012 for Palestinian citizenship?

The text of the museum announcement states that the exhibit would explore “the human rights violations related to the ongoing forced displacement and dispossession of Palestinians.” The immediate violation of those rights after the 1948 Israeli-Arab war was the refusal to allow those who left Israel because of the war to be locally integrated into the neighbouring Arab states to which they had gone, an integration for which UNRWA was created to facilitate. The states of arrival have kept those who left in a permanent pseudo-refugee status, intended as a permanent indictment of the creation of the state of Israel. Will the museum exhibit explore that?

Antizionists, not least Hamas, have engineered a wide variety of human rights violations and atrocities against the Arab population of Israel who left Israel and their descendants in order to shift blame to Israel for the purpose of discrediting its existence. Is the museum exhibit going to explore that?

The suffering of Palestinians is plain to see. The antizionist attacks on the existence of Israel have caused suffering for both Palestinians and Jews. In its exhibition, the museum must show awareness of the antizionist efforts to engineer and manipulate the victimization of Palestinians to discredit the existence of Israel. If the museum were to say nothing about that engineering and manipulation, it would discredit itself.

David Matas is a Winnipeg lawyer and senior honorary counsel to B’nai Brith Canada. He was a member of the original content advisory committee for the museum. Noemi Gal-Or is an international lawyer based in Vancouver.

The balancing of rights

Canada prides itself on being a country where free expression is a core value. We have always differed from our American cousins, though, in recognizing a balance between an “anything goes” right to speech and the contending right of individuals and groups to live free from fear and incitement.

Canadian law draws definite lines. Speech that incites violence against an identifiable group, that promotes hatred or that crosses into criminal harassment is not protected. Those limits are not theoretical – they exist precisely because history has shown what can happen when words move from expression into incitement.

Even as governments take steps towards legislation that would create “bubble zones” and strengthen hate crime laws, many Canadians Jews are concerned that limitations already set out in law, intended to protect minority communities, are not being enforced. Rhetoric like “Globalize the intifada,” which is heard as an overt call for violence against Jews by most Jews and other people who can hear clearly, is going uncontested by police and courts, for example.

The Criminal Code is clear: advocating or promoting violence against identifiable groups crosses a line. The question is no longer whether such limits exist. The question is whether they are being enforced. And, increasingly, the answer appears to be no.

What we are seeing is not simply robust debate. It is a climate in which harassment and intimidation are proliferating, often without legal consequence.

There are, of course, consequences. Jewish institutions require heightened security after so many incidents that it is hard to keep up with the grim news. Students and faculty experience actively hostile campus environments. Public demonstrations brazenly cross the line between protest, provocation and hate.

There is no provable causal chain between rhetoric and violence. Democracies are right to err on the side of speech. But, when the same language, the same slogans and the same patterns of escalation appear alongside an unprecedented rise in hate incidents and targeted attacks, the correlation becomes increasingly difficult to dismiss – and demands attention.

Canada is not alone in confronting this tension. The British authorities have begun to draw firmer lines – distinguishing between lawful protest and language and conduct that threatens public safety or targets vulnerable communities.

The approach is not without controversy. It raises legitimate concerns about overreach and the risk of suppressing dissent. But it also reflects a recognition that inaction carries its own dangers.

Canada is facing a similar showdown.

The goal must not be to silence political views, however unpopular. Or to criminalize protest or suppress debate about complex international issues. Those must remain protected. The goal must be far narrower – to enforce the laws that already exist and to ensure that calls for violence, harassment and intimidation are treated as such, regardless of political context. To make clear that free expression does not extend to threatening the safety and dignity of others.

This is a position that seems simple enough, even unquestioned, when it comes to hateful language and physical intimidation against other vulnerable populations. The situation is serious and it demands the willingness to confront uncomfortable truths.

Canada should not abandon its commitment to free expression. But we must recognize, as we always have, that free expression has limits – and that those limits exist for a reason. In this instance, the reason is the evident correlation between rampant anti-Israel, antizionist and antisemitic rhetoric and the violence against Jews and Jewish institutions we are experiencing.

The government of the United Kingdom is now experimenting in enforcing limitations on hate expression. It is a courageous step. It could also be a turning point – in either direction.

The inevitable pushback around “silencing” (itself often founded on antisemitic tropes of Jewish power) and the more legitimate concerns about free speech make this a fraught policy area. However, if the UK, which shares much of our political culture, can find a middle ground, we would be wise to pay attention.

If, on the other hand, more violent protests, adverse court decisions or – more damagingly – if the government suffers internal splits or popular disapproval over its approach to anti-Jewish harassment, it could set a precedent in which politicians in places like Canada learn that it is best not to provoke the harassers. If that happens, it will signal an open season for anti-Jewish agitation and an extraordinary abandonment of free speech’s twin core value of being able to live free from fear and incitement.

What is needed right now is political courage. Some of that exists, but it needs to exist in a sufficient number of decision-makers and in the places of power where it is most needed and can have the most effect. For better or worse, we will know if this is the case soon enough.

Bad behaviour affects us all

Recently, my kids walked home from high school late because of their games club, which meets once a week. On their way, they saw a man on the sidewalk, coming from a pedestrian trail. He wore a sign on his back that read, “Netanyahu, Butcher of Gaza.” They hung back, took photos and alerted me when they got home.

Here’s a good reason to give Jewish teens access to cellphones. I used the “Find My” app to watch them walk home. They used the phone to document this. We found this signage offensive and upsetting, but it hadn’t been an emergency incident, so they didn’t use their phones to call 911.

I reported this incident to B’nai Brith Canada, who suggested also filing a police report. Over dinner, we discussed the sign. Was this antisemitism or just free speech, when using the IHRA definition of antisemitism? Is the test for this, “Would anyone reasonably use this kind of language about other countries’ publicly elected officials?” The answer for us was, “Well, yes.” We don’t approve of it, but, in 2022, we heard all this as part of the truckers’ convoy that came through Winnipeg. They parked (and honked) at the provincial legislature, close enough to our home so we saw their signs and hateful rhetoric.

I Googled the phrase on the man’s sign. Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdogan started using this phrase in November 2023. It’s been used repeatedly in the last 2.5 years of the Gaza conflict. Knowing a phrase’s “origin story” doesn’t make it less virulent. It still didn’t feel OK. Something can be legal, but also shameful, wrong or antisocial, bad behaviour.

As a family, we debated whether we should do a police report. In Winnipeg, it’s not that easy to report something like this. There’s an online form, but it specifically rejects claims due to hate crimes or speech. In situations like this, there is calling 911 to report it or going downtown to the only police station that takes these reports. We chose to leave this one up to B’nai Brith, but the situation remained fresh and upsetting.

First, there’s the debate over whether something hateful and harmful is illegal or immediately dangerous. Our city’s police service is overburdened. Everyone in Winnipeg has heard of someone who has called the cops and been told that, unless the situation was life threatening, no police would show up. This means that squatters without life-threatening weapons aren’t immediately tossed out of vacant homes – but then the homes catch on fire. In one awful case, a panicked teen, trying to protect his grandmother, called the police during a home invasion. He was killed before the police arrived. This horrific incident puts our hate-signage sighting in perspective.

Second, though, is the question of whether we (Jewish people) or teens walking home from school deserve to feel safe. This man wasn’t walking in front of a consulate or legislature in protest. He was near multiple schools, a library, a synagogue, several churches, a hospital and a care home. If bubble legislation existed in Canada or in Winnipeg, it would have been possible to report this and expect a police response. As things stand, it didn’t seem forthcoming.

This incident reminded me of a conversation I had at Kiddush lunch at synagogue. A Jewish family at our table insisted, in alarm, that Bill C-9 (the one for federal bubble legislation) would interfere with their right to free speech. I asked how often they wrote for the press or how this risked interference with their current modes of protest. I asked if they felt that their right to protest was in jeopardy. When I Googled them later, I found that they don’t write widely. Their names don’t appear in the news regarding protests. Their right to free speech or protest was likely not being threatened in any way. It seems they had fallen prey to misinformation. At the table, I brought up multiple incidents that our children face as they leave a public school and walk home past our congregation.

When a protester is outside the synagogue just after school lets out, the police say that it’s public space. The protest is allowed, even though the signage blocks the sidewalk. Kids walking by are exposed to potential hate speech, and normalizing hate speech or graffiti can lead to acts of violence. This kind of protest first happened about two years ago, but, this spring, the signage on a man’s jacket left us in the same quandary.

Well-intentioned allies have asked, “Do you feel safe?” or “What can I do?”

The answer to the first question is, “no.” There are a lot of reasons for that. For one thing, I’d like my kids to be able to walk home without feeling threatened or having to dodge protesters or shoot photos.

I regularly encounter non-Jewish Canadians who ask the second question. I try to help them learn more about the issues, so they feel ready to be “upstanders” rather than just “bystanders.” Calling the police, paying privately for huge amounts of security or shielding children from hateful protest shouldn’t be something Jewish Canadians navigate alone. We’re less than 1% of the Canadian population. It’s necessary to educate and mobilize allies to help.

Political “free speech” can be legal and still hateful. A society that speaks up can make change, even if the offender isn’t arrested. Education happens when we say, out loud, that some behaviours are shameful and un-Canadian. Bad behaviour affects all of us. It’s time to find adults willing to speak up. If somebody wants Jews to feel safe in Canada, then the status quo is not what they want either.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for the Winnipeg Free Press and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Thankful for the police

Communities are not built in theory. They are built in presence. They depend on people feeling safe enough to walk through the door, to gather, to participate, to be visible.

Judaism is not something we observe from a distance. We gather. We show up. We pray together, learn together, and support one another in real and tangible ways. Some of our most sacred prayers require a quorum. When people do not feel safe enough to walk through our doors, our way of life and our community itself are at risk.

I felt this during the COVID pandemic. I brieﬂy returned to the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver the day after it had closed. The temperature outside was nearly identical to the day before, yet, inside, the building felt profoundly different. It was not just empty. It was cold. The absence of people had stripped the space of its soul. A body without a soul is not life.

In the months following Oct. 7, 2023, I feared that feeling would return. Not because of a public health crisis, but because of something more insidious: fear, intimidation, extremism. The kind of pressure that makes people hesitate, questioning whether it is safe enough to attend school, synagogue or community programming. When that happens, the consequences are not abstract. They are immediate and deeply human. A community begins to shrink, not by choice, but by necessity.

Leadership in these moments requires clarity. We do not retreat. We do not disappear. And we do not accept intimidation as the cost of living openly as Jews.

That resolve is made possible by those who stand watch so that we can stand together.

Across British Columbia, officers from the Vancouver Police Department, the RCMP and other security services have maintained a consistent presence outside Jewish schools, synagogues and community institutions. Their role is not symbolic. It is practical, preventative and deeply human. It allows parents to send their children to school with confidence. It allows seniors to attend services without hesitation. It allows a community to remain visible.

One officer said something that has stayed with me: “I don’t weigh in on politics. I’m here to protect everyone. But, if I can choose between being spit on or being hugged, I’ll take a hug any day.” That simple statement speaks to the humanity behind the uniform, the quiet dignity of service, and the emotional toll that often goes unseen.

Jewish tradition teaches that saving a single life is considered to have saved an entire world. Protecting our community means safeguarding thousands of those worlds. Not buildings. People.

Jan. 9 is recognized as Law Enforcement Appreciation Day. Most people do not mark it on their calendars. But, for communities like ours, the sentiment behind it is not confined to a single day. For our community, every day is Jan. 9.

At a time when law enforcement officers face criticism, threats and, at times, violence simply for doing the work we rely on, it matters to say this clearly: gratitude is not political. It is human. It must be voiced, not assumed.

To those who stand outside our schools, our synagogues and our community spaces, ensuring that we can continue to gather safely and openly, we say thank you. Strong communities do not endure by accident. They endure because people show up and because others make it possible for them to do so.

Ezra Shanken is chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation of British Columbia.

UBC needs a wake-up call

I am graduating and, somehow, my school, the University of British Columbia, feels more isolating than ever. This campus prides itself on the ideas of critical thinking and open dialogue. But, right now, it feels like neither is being practised. Instead, I see a culture where misinformation about Israel and the Jewish people spreads easily, where hateful slogans replace dialogue and where Jewish students are intimidated and harassed for expressing their Zionism and connection to Israel as an integral part of their Jewish identity. More than that, it feels like expressing these views comes with a social cost – one that many students quietly calculate before deciding whether it is even worth speaking at all.

I’m a Jewish student at UBC. And I’m done pretending this is normal.

Universities are supposed to be spaces where ideas are tested, challenged and debated openly. My four years at UBC have shown me that certain perspectives are treated as inherently unacceptable before the conversation even begins. If freedom means anything, it must include viewpoints that fall outside dominant campus narratives, including Zionist perspectives.

The role of campus groups and student politics cannot be ignored. UBC Staff for Palestine and the way BDS (boycott, divestment and sanction from Israel) is promoted within spaces like the Alma Mater Society elections are not just frustrating. They reflect a campus environment where hateful and discriminatory movements and campaigns are tolerated and normalized.

While BDS is framed as a progressive, justice-oriented movement, it seeks to end Israel’s existence and strip away Jewish rights to self-determination. If BDS were to achieve its political goals, Israeli Jews would either be killed, ethnically cleansed or forced to live as an oppressed minority. According to an official BDS handbook, campus divestment is merely a “stepping-stone” to larger-scale boycotts and other measures aimed at ending Israel’s existence. This hateful and destructive movement is experienced by most Jewish students as contributing to an environment that marginalizes and endangers the campus community.

At its core, this is where the disconnect becomes impossible to ignore. A movement presented as advancing human rights dismisses the legitimacy of a Jewish homeland altogether. When that position becomes the norm on campus without any serious scrutiny, it is not political activism but the legitimization of hate and exclusion.

It is also worth asking why this issue dominates student political spaces in the first place. In a world full of ongoing conflicts and humanitarian crises, Israel is consistently singled out in student government discourse with false and misleading accusations. It does not feel like a coincidence or a legitimate concern for human rights, but rather a pattern of disproportionate focus that shapes how we are perceived and treated on this campus.

These narratives often leave no room for nuance. There is no space to acknowledge complexity, no willingness to engage with perspectives that don’t fit a predetermined frame, and no recognition that calling for the dismantling of a Jewish homeland has real implications for Jewish students on this campus. BDS, for instance, actively tries to shut down Israeli-Palestinian cooperation and dialogue.

You cannot claim to advocate for justice while erasing the legitimacy of other people’s existence. And yet, that contradiction is increasingly accepted here at UBC.

Students like me are excluded from conversations that directly affect them. Discussions about our own homeland often unfold without any Zionist Jewish perspective present. And, many of us are hesitant to speak up, not because we lack arguments, but because we know how quickly disagreement is shut down or mischaracterized.

And there is one final point that cannot be ignored.

The rhetoric and imagery that have surfaced within anti-Israel activism on this campus go far beyond political critique and cross into something far more disturbing. Slogans, symbols and messaging that frame violence as “resistance” or elevate martyrdom are not abstract ideas. For Jewish students, they are not theoretical – they are deeply personal, and they create a real and growing sense of fear for our safety on campus.

When violence is normalized or even implicitly justified, it sends a message about whose lives are seen as expendable. That is not activism. That is not justice. And it has no place at a university that claims to value safety, inclusion and critical thought. UBC cannot continue to ignore this.

What kind of campus we are willing to accept? One where certain students feel unsafe, unheard and pushed to the margins, or one where difficult conversations happen without crossing the line into dehumanization? Right now, we are closer to the former.

A university should not act as an ideological gatekeeper. Its role is not to decide which perspectives are acceptable, but to ensure that all students can participate in good faith without fear of exclusion or intimidation.

UBC, it’s time to wake up.

Avigail Feldman is a fourth-year student at the University of British Columbia, completing a bachelor’s in political science, and set to begin a master of management. She is also a StandWithUs Canada Emerson Fellow.