Category: From the JI

Down but not out

Prior to the Six Day War, which took place 54 years ago this month, the pages of this paper were filled with foreboding and ominous news of enemy militaries amassing adjacent to Israel’s borders. The very next issue was triumphal and jubilant – the war already had ended.

Such is one of the challenges of publishing a weekly newspaper. When a war only lasts six days, it presents difficulties for a journal that comes out every seven. Since the beginning of the pandemic, we have been on a twice-monthly publishing schedule, adding to the challenges of bringing you news in a time of fast change.

Of course, as regular readers know, we recognize our limitations and strengths and, as the internet has made information accessible 24/7, we have adapted to provide thoughtful, contextualizing essays and ideas, complemented by coverage of local events that only we can deliver.

Still, commenting on events that are subject to rapid flux remains a reality. This week, as we go to press, many or most observers assume that Naftali Bennett will soon replace Binyamin Netanyahu as Israel’s prime minister. Netanyahu continues to insist that such a new government represents something undemocratic. Indeed, his choice of language has been incendiary, and the imagery employed by some of his supporters veers into the realm of the demonization that we saw in the lead-up to the assassination of Yitzhak Rabin. Whatever his political objectives, Netanyahu should beware not to lead Israel down a path of “scorched earth,” as Bennett warned this week.

Bibi seems to be taking a page from the playbook of his ally Donald Trump, who emerged again recently to rehash his lies about stolen elections and assorted nonsense, including his imminent reinstallation in the White House. While scarily huge swaths of Americans (Republicans mostly, of course) believe that Joe Biden is not the legitimate president, we have more trust in the intelligence of Israeli voters to know that whoever is prime minister by the time the dust settles is there by due process.

If, as seems likely, Netanyahu is replaced, do not expect to hear the last of him. Again, like his friend in Florida, Bibi is clearly not done yet. He has been defeated before and returned to hold the position, becoming the country’s longest-serving leader.

Perhaps the biggest variable will be whether his Likud party stands behind him, as Trump’s Republican base has apparently stood by their man. Already, Yuli Edelstein, Netanyahu’s health minister, has said he would challenge Bibi for the party leadership should they lose power.

If successful, Edelstein, or any alternative Likud leader, would almost certainly cause an immediate tectonic shift in politics. That’s because the binary in that country’s politics is now cemented as “pro-Bibi” and “anti-Bibi.” With anyone but Netanyahu at the helm, some of the right-leaning partners in the new, broad coalition would likely look afresh at a deal with the party that has, by a large margin, the most seats in the Knesset.

Netanyahu may yet pull another rabbit out of his hat before Bennett can take his place. More likely, we are about to see a political shift that will see Netanyahu out but not down. That is, he seems to have enough capital to remain a major player in Likud and Israeli politics in general. The corruption case currently proceeding against him may affect that, but it has done little so far to dislodge his defenders.

If, as smart money has it, Netanyahu is unseated in the next few days, we will truly see a new era in Israeli politics. But we would caution that such a new era will begin with a time of flux. The new coalition is unwieldy and may not hold. Netanyahu has been the centre of gravity for Israeli politics for a very long time. In his absence, everything changes.

Our next issue is June 25. We promise this: plenty will have changed by then.

About the (back) cover

image - 2021 Summer issue back coverphoto - Hummingbird in gardenA hummingbird recently paid a visit to my garden while I was enjoying a coffee outside. I wanted this photo to be the one on the back cover of the Summer issue, but, taken with my phone, it just wasn’t a high-enough resolution. So, I went back to a photo I took last spring for that year’s Summer issue but didn’t use because it felt too cheerful at that point in the pandemic. Now, however, with vaccinations well underway and restrictions soon to start easing in the province, a little colour doesn’t seem out of place.

Antisemitism unleashed

As Israel announced a ceasefire in its latest conflagration with Hamas in Gaza, the world sifted through the entrails to declare victors. In reality, neither “side” has won. Both “sides” have lost a great deal. There are, of course, implications for domestic politics on both sides, with Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu apparently benefitting politically from the conflict and Hamas achieving their goal of seizing the Palestinian narrative from the Palestinian Authority. These factors aside, this conflict was avoidable and, when civilians die, it is morally dubious to discuss “winners.” We are deeply distressed by this latest round of hostilities and the loss of life and security experienced by all the people of Israel and Palestine.

We also note, once again, that the conflict between Israel and its neighbours seems to attract global interest that eclipses any other issue on earth – demonstrated, among other things, by the litany of United Nations General Assembly resolutions that single out the Jewish state while ignoring or giving short shrift to victimized populations everywhere else on the planet. Indeed, the overseas reactions to the events in Israel and Palestine over recent weeks are illuminating, as “pro-Palestinian” activists have taken to the streets in cities around the world, in large numbers.

Not unrelated, in recent days, there has been a horrific spike in antisemitic incidents around the world, including in Canada. Identifiably Jewish people, businesses and institutions have been attacked. Pro-Israeli demonstrators in Toronto have been physically assaulted, and rocks have been thrown at them in Montreal; there have been reports of people seeking out Jews to harass in cities across our country. Jews walking in New York City and dining in Los Angeles have been assaulted, synagogues have been defaced in Chicago, Skokie and Tucson.

Then there are those like the BBC journalist who posted “Hitler was right” or the CNN contributor who posted “the world today needs a Hitler.” Members of groups who invaded a pro-Israel rally in Chicago a few days ago chanted, “Kill the Jews.” The Anti-Defamation League said there were more than 17,000 tweets using variations of the phrase “Hitler was right.”

There is a phrase that Israel’s critics repeat like a mantra: anti-Zionism is not antisemitism. This supposed tautology, uttered as though the speakers can make something true simply through repetition, has always been problematic. Some anti-Zionism is absolutely and undeniably antisemitic, such as when it veers into blood libels, Holocaust analogies and stereotypical representations of Jews and power. Part of the reason that a large number of people are able to spout such words is that they lack knowledge or understanding of the expressions and permutations of antisemitism in previous eras and don’t have the self-awareness to see the bigotry they are obliviously replicating. That’s to say nothing of their complete lack of any awareness or knowledge of Jewish history, cultural and religious traditions, scholarship, heritage or epistemology.

Are these people anti-Zionists? Who knows. Are they “pro-Palestinian”? Well, if scaring Jews is pro-Palestinian, then sure. But there is no doubt about the other part. This is antisemitism, in its most recognizable form.

In the past days, we have seen more overt Jew-hatred and incitement to harm and kill Jews, from more sources, than most of us have seen in our lifetimes. Not criticism of Israel, mind you. Outright, murderous Jew-hatred. A number of Canadian Jewish leaders have said this time feels different.

Here is the bigger problem: while far too many people are screaming, tweeting or otherwise expressing explicitly antisemitic hatred, far more appear to be sitting on the sidelines, somehow convinced that there are complexities around the subject.

There are deep complexities in Israel-Palestine, yes. But, when Jewish people and institutions are targeted around the world because of a conflagration in Israel and Gaza, that conflict is not a cause; it’s an excuse.

Good people of the world should be coming to the aid of Jewish people. In a conflict with a genocidal terrorist entity that launches thousands of rockets at civilians, the world should stand with Israel, too, but let’s leave that aside for today. Some political leaders, religious figures and others have expressed disgust with the antisemitism and expressed solidarity with Jewish people. But we should be seeing a global grassroots uprising in defence of Jews – and we’re not.

We hope that the ceasefire between Israel and Hamas holds. We hope for a return to negotiations that will result in a just two-state solution with Israelis and Palestinians in their own respective homelands. We hope, as always, for lasting peace. And we should all commit to doing our part to end the occupation and secure a democratic Jewish homeland. But, in the aftermath of this latest “round” in the conflict, we have learned another lesson. There are many people in the world who look at explicit calls for the murder of Jews, the annihilation of Israel, assaults on individuals and institutions and conclude there are better things to devote their energies to fighting.

Of course, there are well-informed critics of Israel who are not motivated by anti-Jewish animus. But these people – whatever their numbers are – seem untroubled to be part of a larger movement that is absolutely fueled by the worst impulses. They have, almost to a person, chosen to welcome support for their cause whatever hateful strings are attached.

Recent events have shown how easy it is still – despite all our advances in the area of human rights – for so many people to slide right into antisemitism, whether from anti-Zionism or other perhaps not even conscious feelings about Jews.

Tragedy and cruelty

Reports from eyewitnesses to the catastrophe at Mount Meron last week, on Lag b’Omer, recount a horrifying crush of humanity propelled as if by an external force. The tragedy of 45 lives lost and scores of seriously injured will be investigated by authorities after allegations that the potential for such a disaster had been foretold.

The investigation into Israel’s worst civilian disaster will likely look at structural factors that led to the stampede and the inability of attendees to escape as the throng converged into a choke point at the site.

A small silver lining in the horrific incident was the mobilization of Arab Israelis in villages near the mountain, who set up help stations to provide water and food to attendees as they gathered in the aftermath.

But the tragedy itself was exacerbated when some among the survivors turned on female Israel Defence Forces soldiers arriving to help. The event was attended almost exclusively by religious men and boys. When female soldiers arrived to deliver first aid and evacuation assistance, some were spit on, kicked and punched as they attempted to help the wounded and remove the bodies of the deceased.

Such misogynistic extremism will probably not be within the parameters of a government inquiry. And perhaps that is fine, because this is a symptom of a much larger societal problem and one that should be confronted thoroughly by the entire country. Interfering in the life-saving work of first responders is not only reprehensible, it is an abrogation of a foremost tenet of Judaism, pikuach nefesh, the saving of life. Most of the victims and survivors are shomer negiah, adhering to a religious principle that restricts or forbids contact between members of the opposite sex. In a deeply distorted interpretation, a number of men in the situation chose to elevate shomer negiah above pikuach nefesh. By spitting on rescue workers, the perpetrators were spitting on the very sacredness they imagined themselves to be defending. That is something that deserves serious consideration by religious people and by secular authorities as the country – and Jews worldwide – grapple with the aftermath of the entire incident.

Another tragic byproduct of the disaster has been reactions to the news among people who gravely lack humanity. Within hours of being posted, a story on Al Jazeera’s website about the tragedy was met with more than 10,000 comments celebrating the deaths. Among the representative comments: “Drinks on me, y’all,” “about time we got some good news on our media,” “I feel so happy, actually” and “May God ensure the bodies pile high.”

It is difficult to fathom that we live in a world where people would respond to a mass casualty event in this manner. It is also nearly impossible to imagine such a response if the tragedy had happened to anyone other than Jews.

For years, a robust discussion has occurred around whether, if or when anti-Zionism crosses a line into antisemitism. Did the callous, sadistic comments reflect a political statement about the right of Israel to exist? Were they even more base, a celebration of dead Jews just because they were Jews? Was it anti-Zionism that drove these depraved commenters, or was it antisemitism?

These questions throw a spotlight on the fundamental foolishness of the dichotomy. A semantic discussion about the motivations of people who would behave in this way gives far too much credence to their actions, as if there could, in some convoluted moral universe, be a justification for their cruelty.

Was it anti-Zionism? Was it antisemitism? At this point, does it really matter what we call it?

A hard-earned +1 year

Every time I put together one of these special five-year anniversary issues, I am both thankful for and awed by the community’s commitment to this newspaper. Even though I have owned it now for a quarter of its existence (!) and have experienced everything it has taken to keep publishing it, I still feel like it’s a miracle that, while so many other newspapers have folded, the Jewish Independent continues.

image - Cover of the Oct. 12, 1933, JWB
Cover of the Oct. 12, 1933, JWB

When I look back at old issues of the JI and the Jewish Western Bulletin, I get to see time move in almost an instant. In one sitting, I can follow the creation, the lifetime and, often, the transformation, or occasionally even the end, of a communal organization. I can see how a cohort of community members transitions into a whole new generation of dedicated volunteers and generous philanthropists. I can relate to the financial and other challenges that every former publisher and editor has gone through. I can feel the support of community leaders, readers and advertisers, who consistently have come to the rescue of a paper that has pretty much always been on the edge of solvency. I can share in so many people’s happinesses and sadnesses, their kudos and their complaints. I can appreciate the hard work of the paper’s publishers, writers and staff in every decade and that of countless community members, which has gotten us to today.

The community and the JI/JWB have survived the Great Depression, the Second World War, numerous recessions and other hardships. Currently, we are in the midst of surviving a global pandemic together. It has been a difficult year for all of us, to say the least. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to having moments of despair and fear, and not just during COVID. I know how privileged and lucky I am, both personally and professionally, but, sometimes, I need reminding.

During this past year, as my few staff have switched to working at home or semi-retired, I have had more opportunities to speak and email with community members and others. While not a replacement for face-to-face encounters, it has been one of the pluses of this hard-earned +1 year of the newspaper, which had to postpone our special 90th anniversary issue until now. It is no exaggeration to say that we have only made it to 90+1 because of you. And not only your financial support, for which I am extremely grateful, but your indomitable spirit. We have pages to print because there are events to cover; classes, lectures and performances to attend; opinions to share; ambitious projects to promote; endeavours for which to raise funds; people offering help and people in need of assistance; people and milestones to celebrate; and losses to mourn. In this very newspaper you are holding in your hands or looking at on screen, there are stories on all of these aspects of our community.

Every time I prepare an issue of the JI, I’m buoyed by the promise that each paper holds – that there is a future, unknown as it may be, towards which we are all working. And, every time I look at past issues of the JIand the JWB, I am inspired by all that we’ve accomplished; by the no small feat that we are still here, showing up for one another and trying to make the world at large, or at least our small corner of it, a little bit better.

image - Cover of the Feb. 8, 1934, JWB
Cover of the Feb. 8, 1934, JWB

In my forays into the newspaper’s archives for this special edition, I came across, by chance, a few pithy sayings, no doubt intended to be motivational but, more pragmatically, to fill the small spaces that, in the olden days of typesetting, were hard to fill at the end of a column of news. From 1933 and 1934, they impart messages that could apply to any generation: “Resolve to be thyself, and know that he who finds himself, loses his misery”; “Some people can’t have a word together without having words”; “Better is one smile from the living than fountains of tears for the dead.”

I have no idea from where these aphorisms came, but they made me smile when I came across them. This newspaper never fails to surprise me. I just love it. And I thank all of you for helping me fill its pages and keep the presses rolling. May we all go from strength to strength.

Model of resilience

As we have reveled in the summer-like weather of this extraordinary spring, we face, on the one hand, a looming overload of our health system as COVID variants lead to an especially worrisome wave, while, on the other hand, we enjoy a sense of huge optimism every time we see another friend’s vaccination selfie. There is a race between the spread of the virus and the distribution of the vaccine.

There will be time to reflect on the responses of governments around the world, but, for now, we thank again the medical professionals and other frontline workers, which in the circumstances includes retail and restaurant workers and anyone whose position puts them in front of the public so that the rest of us can live with comparative ease.

We are now in the second round of annual events held virtually. We have celebrated Passover with online seders two years in a row and likewise have marked simchas and solemn occasions through our devices. This is becoming something close to routine.

The past couple of weeks have been especially packed with virtual community events. It is remarkable how meaningful and moving ceremonies like Yom Hashoah (Holocaust Remembrance Day) and Yom Hazikaron (Israel’s Memorial Day) can be even when mediated through technology. Joyous occasions like Yom Ha’atzmaut (Israel’s Independence Day) were different but delightful.

On Sunday, Jewish Family Services held a virtual grand opening and tour of their new food hub, dubbed the Kitchen, a centre for sustainable food, education and community-building around this most central of human necessities. (See story next issue.)

What was inspiring about the JFS event, in addition to the project itself, is the resolve and optimism demonstrated by the very act of launching the facility in the midst of a pandemic. It is a bit of wonderful audacity, or chutzpah, to start a new initiative like the Kitchen and to see it through to a physical opening, despite the challenges thrown at the organization by COVID.

Of course, there are countless similar examples, in our community and others, of people doggedly pursuing great causes in the face of the crisis we are in. There is the small miracle that this pandemic hit us at a time when we have the technology to see and talk to people worldwide in real time. But the technology is only as good as the people operating it. On a dime, schools, synagogues, arts and cultural institutions, education and advocacy agencies, as well as families, adapted as best they could under sometimes nearly impossible circumstances. The quality of so many of these efforts has been remarkable.

What makes things like the Kitchen so significant is that it was not an existing program that went virtual, but a fresh concept in community well-being that was envisioned and created. Sunday’s Chanukat Habayit was the culmination of that foundational work and the beginning of what should be decades of programs and services.

If there were a model of behaviour to inspire clients of Jewish Family Services, and all of us, that demonstration of resilience and determination in times of difficulty is an ideal one.

Reason to worry a lot

With 13 parties in the Knesset – and several of those umbrellas encompassing a variety of factions – patching together a coalition will be a challenge. It may not be possible at all, meaning Israelis would see their fifth election within a little more than two years.

Whatever pileup of strange bedfellows eventually manages to form a government, one particular possibility should be especially disconcerting.

To enhance their chances of passing the electoral threshold, three far-right parties united under the banner of Religious Zionism and succeeded in taking six Knesset seats. The Religious Zionist party, led by Bezalel Smotrich, seeks to annex all (or part, depending on which faction you listen to) of the West Bank and adheres to a familiar litany of Israeli far-right policies.

For this round of elections, they partnered with another small faction, called Noam, whose platform ostensibly seeks to create a halachic theocracy. In practical terms, the party is obsessed with homosexuality and seeks to delegitimize LGBTQ+ Israelis and roll back legal protections and equality. In addition to attacking gay people, the party has equated Reform Jews with Nazis and Palestinian terrorists who “want to destroy us.”

The third rail in this extremist triumvirate is Otzma Yehudit (Jewish Power), which is a descendant of the outlawed racist party Kach, led by the American-born fanatic Rabbi Meir Kahane, who was assassinated in 1990.

When Kahane was in the Knesset, before a law was passed to bar overt racists from elected office, all other members of the assembly would walk out when he rose to rant against Arabs. In an eerie echo of the Nuremburg Laws, Kahane sought to legally prohibit sexual relations between Jews and non-Jews, among other far-reaching extreme positions.

An indication of the shifts in Israel’s body politic over the decades is evidenced by the fact that the incumbent prime minister, Binyamin Netanyahu, worked behind the scenes to get these small extremist factions to cooperate in order to reach the electoral threshold. While previous prime ministers – and every other member of the Knesset at the time – refused to listen to the hateful rhetoric of Kahane, this prime minister helped ensure his ideological successors would be represented in the Knesset.

It is bad enough that these ideas will be given a legitimacy they do not deserve by mere dint of their advocates being members of the Knesset. As a small rump of crazed zealots, they should be ignored and shunned. Instead, they will play a central role in the determination of who (if anyone) forms the next government.

It is worth recalling an incident in Austria, in 2000, when the xenophobic, racist and arguably neo-fascist Freedom Party, led by Jörg Haider, entered into a governing coalition in that country. The government of Austria to which Haider belonged was sanctioned and condemned by governments worldwide and other member-states of the European Union ceased cooperation with Austria’s government.

While the Abraham Accords have reduced Israel’s diplomatic isolation dramatically, the country still faces unjust judgment in the court of global opinion. If a new governing coalition includes a segment of enthusiastic homophobes, misogynists, racists and ethno-religious supremacists, a universe of denunciation would rain down on the country. And rightly so.

In what may be an irony of historical proportions, that ugly scenario could be prevented by another stunning development on the other end of the political (and ethno-cultural) spectrum.

A new Arab party, called Ra’am, has bolted from the conventions of the Arab political sector and adopted a pragmatic approach. Rather than the purely oppositional stands taken by the other Arab parties for decades, Ra’am seems prepared to play the game that small Jewish parties have excelled at. In a fractured political culture, the tail often wags the dog. Ra’am, led by Mansour Abbas, seems to understand the opportunity this presents. Strangely, this Arab religious party could find common cause with Jewish religious parties on issues like funding for parochial education and other community needs (as well as its apparently virulent hatred of homosexuality).

As the horse trading begins in earnest this week to patch together a quilt of some ideological consistency in the Knesset, Ra’am is sitting in one of the most enviable positions of potential power, possibly able to extract all sorts of treasures out of a leader desperate for their crucial four votes. The only thing they have explicitly ruled out is any situation that would enable groups like Religious Zionism, Otzma Yehudit and Noam.

How ironic it would be if Israel were saved from its own worst angels by an Arab political party that learned its capacity for power from watching the fringe elements on the other side of the Knesset.

Can we learn from COVID?

Spring and the holiday of Passover are all about renewal and hope. This year, as our elders begin receiving the coronavirus vaccines and our economy appears to be recovering from the most critical disruption in living memory, things seem promising. We anticipate fleeing our bondage of social isolation and being transported to a land, if not of milk and honey, at least to a place of mixing and hugging.

We have (hopefully) learned a great deal. There have been many opportunities to benefit from the disruption in our lives. At the individual level, we may have learned new skills or crafts – like cross stitch or baking sourdough! – or used the time to study new fields or languages. On the collective level, we have learned that the entire world, regardless of governance, religion, language and every other difference, could mobilize (albeit not equally well) to respond to a crisis.

We also learned that, when necessary, many governments and societies could rise to the occasion (again, with different levels of competence) to save lives. Billions of dollars were “found” to save potentially devastated economies and support businesses and households. Scientists and medical professionals cooperated across boundaries to search for vaccines and to care for the ill. Ordinary people – not just first responders and others in the direct line of care but grocery clerks and those who provide services previously taken for granted – became heroes of the moment.

As the months dragged on, divisions emerged. People and their governments sometimes differed on the best responses, or any response at all. A cohort emerged questioning everything, from the best ways to stop the spread of the virus to the very existence of the virus that has infected more than 100 million and killed more than 2.5 million.

As we hopefully approach the beginning of the end of this extraordinary era, let us remember its beginning – not the fear of the unknown that engulfed us, but the unity the world seemed to exhibit in coming together to confront a danger that knows no borders.

Imagine the challenges we might be able to face and resolve if we could mobilize the world the way we did in those earliest moments of the pandemic. Can we come together to finally confront the climate emergency, which could be every bit as fatal as an unchecked virus if not addressed? Can we unite to overcome racial divisions and inequality? Can we even marginally close the chasm between richest and poorest in Canada and across the planet?

The incredible hurdle that was thrown across our civilization’s path a year ago showed our capacity for coming together when the stakes were high enough.

There are a lot of areas where the stakes are high. Can we take the lessons we’ve learned over the past 12 months and apply them there?