Category: From the JI

Yom Hashoah online

Like everything else in this time of pandemic, Yom Hashoah, which took place this week, was not normal.

On Monday, at 10 a.m. Pacific time, viewers worldwide, including here in British Columbia, tuned in online to watch the state ceremony marking the start of Holocaust Martyrs’ and Heroes’ Remembrance Day, taking place in Israel at Yad Vashem. Later that day, a cross-Canada commemoration took place, presented by a number of national bodies and with the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre as a contributing organization.

The eerily vacant hall at Yad Vashem was interspersed with video recordings of remarks from Israel’s president, prime minister and chief rabbis, as well as six survivors, who shared their stories of loss and survival. The Canadian commemoration a few hours later was similarly moving, with video interspersed with thoughtful reflections from a member of the third generation who served as host and a message from the prime minister, stories of survivors, and candlelighting by families across the country. (See coverage next issue.)

No doubt the organizers of these events would have preferred to hold them in person. The proximity of family, friends and community strengthens survivors and the successive generations. Being in proximity provides crucial emotional, psychological and intellectual means of conveying the historical importance of that time and its lessons for social justice and human rights today.

The use of digital technology to mark Yom Hashoah was perhaps a little less startlingly odd, given that Jewish people worldwide recently experienced an unprecedented Passover, engaging in “zeders” – virtual seders on Zoom or other videoconferencing platforms – to get together with family over the holidays. The contortions some of our family members went through to make these celebrations happen was cause for some laughs, as well as some tsuris, and Passover 5780 will not be soon forgotten.

This was hardly an ideal way of celebrating – and many in the Orthodox community couldn’t even do this much – but it was necessary given the social isolation required of us during this pandemic.

Yet, while it is important to come together for happy occasions, this time is particularly difficult for those experiencing grief and loss. Having to up-end the ancient Jewish rituals that serve to sustain and strengthen mourners, those who have lost loved ones are left with minimal funeral attendees and shivahs conducted by telephone and computer; hugs only from those who share a household, none of the important reinforcement – and comfort – that comes from the physical proximity of a broader community. Even this sad situation fulfils a mitzvah, though. As painful as it is to be remote from our loved ones in times of grief, it is pikuach nefesh, an act of saving a life, the highest Jewish value and one that overrides almost every other law. During a pandemic, we remain apart from our loved ones because we love them.

Yom Hashoah commemorations often take a sombre tone and include some of the rituals we perform at a funeral, which made viewing the events in seclusion especially isolating. Yet, conversely, there was something uniquely appropriate about this alternative form of marking Yom Hashoah.

While we were fortunate to have survivors participate via video in these and other online commemorations of the day, the undeniable reality is that this was among the last such commemorative days where successive generations will be able to hear firsthand from the mouths of survivors their stories of loss, resistance and survival. Finding ways beyond first-person witness testimonies is the unavoidable way forward for Holocaust education and remembrance. Organizations dedicated to this mission have recognized this reality and have been developing impactful ways to augment and, eventually, replace in-person survivor testimony.

Remembering and, using that memory as motivation, ensuring that the promise of “Never again” is taken up by the next generations is also a Jewish value. It took an admirable mobilization of our local, national and international communal organizations to ensure that the pandemic did not cause us to ignore Yom Hashoah this year. It was precisely the sort of flexible, responsive action that will be required to meet the demands of Holocaust remembrance and education in the decades to come.

Necessity is the mother of invention and the unusual yet deeply moving commemorations this week should encourage us that, whatever challenges and changes the future holds, we remain determined to memorialize and educate about the Holocaust in ways appropriate to the times in which we live.

 

 

Open letter to the community from the JI

Dear Reader,

I hope this letter finds you well, and that you are finding ways to cope with the new reality that COVID-19 has brought on all of us so suddenly. I’ll admit to moments of struggle in maintaining a positive outlook but, mostly, I am determined that, together, we will get through this crisis and return to some variation of normalcy.

For more than 20 years, I have owned and published the Jewish Independent, which started its life as the Jewish Western Bulletin in 1930. For nine decades, the paper has recorded our community’s stories, as well as news and commentary about the wider world. We have reported on the ordinary and the extraordinary, fleeting trends and paradigm shifts. We have covered happy and sad occasions, and promoted the work and activities of countless individuals and organizations. Past issues of the paper comprise a distinctive archive of our community in this place over time.

I am determined to continue this vital calling. Ensuring continuity and the thriving of Jewish life here in Canada and worldwide is no less urgent or relevant than it was in 1930. These are difficult times for many people, organizations and businesses and, among the many closures in recent days, the Canadian Jewish News ceased publication and Winnipeg’s Jewish Post & News suspended its print version indefinitely.

I firmly believe that the Jewish Independent is one of our community’s invaluable resources and that we have an important role to play during the pandemic, both in keeping the community up to date on one another’s events, initiatives and well-being, as well as offering some respite from the at-times overwhelming bad news.

For years, this publication has been a labour of love for me and a dedicated staff of a few employees and a cadre of freelance writers. As we face the coming weeks or months of increasingly dismal advertising revenues, I am making an unprecedented appeal for support from you, our readers.

I am proud to produce independent Jewish journalism that has been recognized internationally by scores of awards and accolades. I am proud that, on a very modest budget, we have managed to produce a regular publication that informs, inspires, engages, exasperates, amuses, entertains, provokes and reflects in ways that unite Jewish British Columbians across all religious, cultural, political and social divides.

You subscribe to this paper or pick it up for free at a local depot, I hope, because you see the value in this, which is why I am asking for your help through this deeply challenging time. Please consider supporting the paper through one or more of the following actions:

  1. Renew your subscription – or start subscribing. When you receive your annual subscription notice, please renew as quickly as you are able, as the fewer reminder notices I have to mail, the less expensive the process. If you pick up the JI at one of our many depots, please seriously think about subscribing or donating to help fund the creation, printing and distribution of the paper you now hold in your hands.
  2. Consider an esubscription instead of a traditional subscription. You’ll still receive the full contents of the paper, just in digital form. It saves you money and it’s more economical for us, too. (However, if you still like to hold the paper in your hands and pass it around the house, please continue to get the print edition!)
  3. Give a gift subscription. For generations, B.C. families have stayed connected to one another and our community through the pages of our newspaper. Keep the tradition alive with gift subscriptions to younger family members.
  4. Advertise with us. We know that your business or organization needs support, too. The most effective, affordable way to reach our community is through these pages, as it has been for 90 years.
  5. Send a greeting. You can send a message in any issue of the paper. Birthday, bar/bat mitzvah, wedding, anniversary, graduation greetings – any time is a good time to celebrate our loved ones. But now it is especially welcome. Something as affordable as a business card-size insertion is a fun way to mark a special occasion – and it sends a double message: you support thriving, independent Jewish journalism.
  6. Make a donation. This is the easiest and most immediate way you can help. It’s true, we’re not a charity. I can’t give you a tax receipt. But, as I’ve said, this has been a labour of love for a small group of dedicated individuals. We need you now more than ever.

You can subscribe or contribute online at jewishindependent.ca/support-the-ji via PayPal, by making an etransfer to [email protected] or by calling the office at 604-689-1520.

On behalf of the staff and freelancers of the Jewish Independent, thank you to everyone who has reached out and helped the JI over the years, including recent weeks, and to all of you for taking the time to consider these words. Please stay safe and healthy.

Sincerely,

Cynthia Ramsay, Owner/Publisher
[email protected]
PO Box 47100 RPO City Square, Vancouver, B.C. V5Z 4L6
604-689-1520 • jewishindependent.ca

Thank you to frontline

There are many new routines in this unusual time. Social media feeds suggest baking has become the comforting go-to for many of us. Binge-watching shows and finally getting to the books we’ve been meaning to read is another. Cleaning those closets that were filled with mismatched sheets sets and nearly empty rolls of birthday wrapping paper was a long-overdue task.

But, at 7 p.m. each night now for a couple of weeks, another, less solitary routine has emerged. Metro Vancouverites – and people further afield – take a step outside, onto their balconies or into their driveways, and make like it’s New Year’s Eve. Clanging pots and pans, applauding, shouting cheers and generally making as much noise as possible for a minute, the behaviour is not merely burning off steam by a people holed up and stir crazy. It is a heartfelt act of solidarity and gratitude for the frontline healthcare workers, first responders and others whose responsibilities to protect the public require them to remain at their posts. It is also a way for us to say hello to our neighbours, and to receive reassurance that, while the streets and stores may be almost empty, humanity has not been wiped out, just relegated to our homes.

The nightly event was given steam by Rory Richards, a member of the Jewish community who understands the meaning of the power of one. Several years ago, at the height of the refugee crisis in the Mediterranean, she traveled to Greece and helped welcome those fleeing their homelands, while mobilizing support for the effort back home via social media. In this time of need, she saw what others were doing in the world to express themselves, while staying in quarantine, and brought the practice to her West End neighbourhood. And it has resonated with many – so many that the Vancouver Park Board has decided to change the firing time of Stanley Park’s Nine O’Clock Gun to 7 p.m. until the end of April.

The noisemaking trend is still relatively new, but already we hear of the emotional impact it is having on exhausted and anxious frontline workers. As is the solidarity at 7 p.m. nightly of their fellow emergency workers – fire trucks, police cars and ambulances driving the streets around their local hospitals, flashing their lights and sounding their sirens.

Mostly unsung are other frontline workers, those whose jobs, until this crisis, were not considered dangerous or irreplaceable: grocery store workers, cashiers, fruit and vegetable store operators, bakers, letter carriers, parcel delivery personnel, bank tellers, people maintaining the internet, bus drivers, garbage and recycling collectors, city workers who are making sure the traffic lights and other essential services remain operational, employment insurance office staff and other bureaucrats who are rushing to put aid programs into place. The list goes on. These people are continuing their work of keeping the world functioning at the level it must, without the luxury of sheltering in place.

In the Jewish community, agencies and individuals are stepping up. Jewish Family Services continues to deliver its vital programs, knowing that the physical, emotional and economic toll this crisis is taking is not yet at its peak. Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver has launched a fund to help the community address the crisis, with specific emphasis on food security, housing support and subsidies to ensure that the economic impacts of the pandemic do not prevent individuals and families from participating to the greatest extent possible in Jewish communal activities. The Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs has mobilized, creating a COVID-19 resource guide that is a clearinghouse for related information nationally and in each province. And organizations such as the Canadian Council for Reform Judaism and Reform Rabbis – which sent a letter to the federal government last week – are working to ensure that relief efforts centre on the most vulnerable, “including those who are homeless or housing insecure, migrants or refugees, living in underserved indigenous communities, being held in detention facilities or at risk of domestic violence.”

Locally and internationally, synagogues, day schools and community organizations have turned on a dime to use online platforms as an alternative meeting space for virtual services and gatherings. Some senior Sephardi rabbis in Israel are releasing opinions that would allow observant Jews to leave Zoom running for Passover seders, so that separated families can join together to celebrate our Festival of Freedom.

How many of us, three weeks ago, had heard of Zoom? An old long-distance telephone ad declared, “It’s the next best thing to being there,” which is true of this new technology, but we can’t deny that the shmoozing before and after (and during) services and events isn’t quite the same. Humans are likely to take for granted anything we receive almost as soon as we have it, so it is worth taking a moment to consider the incredible good fortune that allows us to have technology that we could barely dream about 30 years ago to keep us virtually together when we are, most of us, actually apart.

There’s no question that the emotional toll of our separateness will be keenly felt next week as the seders that, for our entire lifetimes, have meant the coming together of extended families and close friends, will be massively different than in the past. There will be a seat at the table for Eliyahu, but many others also will be there only virtually, and they will be missed.

When we participate in the 7 p.m. clangfest, or even if we just watch it from our homes, let’s consider the clapping, hollering and pan-banging as a testament to our admiration for medical and other frontline personnel, including the people who never imagined that they would be so crucial a part of maintaining our society’s functioning but who are, irreplaceably, ensuring that many of us are able to shelter in place in relative privilege and comfort.

We must continue to ask

Probably every action or event has unintended consequences. The more significant the initial act, the more dramatic the consequences, for better or worse.

Significant historical events illustrate a few of these. Income tax, for example, was an outcome of the First World War, which was, like all wars of course, cataclysmic to individuals and countries.

The Depression resulted, again among many other things, in public acceptance of vast government interventions into the economy through programs like the New Deal in the United States, and similar initiatives in Canada and elsewhere.

The Second World War, one of the worst human catastrophes ever known, was accompanied by a universe of social and economic changes, including the effective nationalization of critical industries to support the war effort. That period of social upheaval – during which personnel of all races served side by side and women entered the workforce in large numbers to fill the places of men at war – contained the seeds of social revolutions to follow, including the civil rights movement and the transformation of the role of women in society. The war was also a direct antecedent to formal decolonization in the developing world.

In other words, some terrible events can result in transformative consequences. This is not to play the ethics game and ask, if we could reverse history and prevent this act, would we do so, knowing that some positive byproducts would likewise be erased. It is merely to draw attention to the consequential moment in which we find ourselves.

The terror attacks of Sept. 11, 2001, are perhaps the freshest parallel for most of the current generation. On that day, we understood that everything had changed but we could only imagine in what ways. Wars would soon begin that continue to this day and, closer to home, social schisms between groups, including the rise of Islamophobia, emerged.

Political debates shifted dramatically to erstwhile largely dormant issues like government surveillance, balancing collective security with individual rights, the use of enhanced interrogation – torture, that is – and the thing that affects most of us most obviously: massive changes in airport security processes.

Since then, we have seen the rise of social and economic inequality and the attendant antisemitism and xenophobia it has engendered. Such shocks to the system produce reverberating impacts, often felt by more vulnerable and marginalized groups, Jews included, and we know that the consequences of any one shock can compound the waves of others in ways expected and unexpected.

We have plenty to worry about right now, with the immediacy of the pandemic. But we should also make time to consider potential unintended outcomes from this experience.

We have seen already, as we mentioned here a very long week ago, a vast outpouring of social unity. On social media, Vancouverites are coming together in mutual support. At 7 p.m. each night, for example, many are joining together to cheer frontline healthcare workers in a small but meaningful act of solidarity and hope. Most people, with notable exceptions that are being rightly called out, are responding appropriately to the advice of experts.

But consider the small, perhaps less obvious ways this experience could impact us. When it’s all over, will we be more reticent to shake hands, to hug? Will we be more attuned to the reality that we are each a part of an inseparable collective humanity, regardless of human-created boundaries?

More substantively, might we see the early reports of decreased air pollution due to this situation continue for the weeks or months this endures and realize that substantive progress on climate change is possible if we recognize the difference between essential and non-essential carbon-consuming activities? Could the once-unimaginable international coordination we are witnessing rekindle our collective hope in unified action for any number of good causes? If we can come together against a threat to us all, could world peace be less remote a dream than we might think?

Conversely, we should be cognizant, as well, that the vast power of the state – our state, every state – to effectively shut down entire societies and economies represents a unique global event. It is done in this case, of course, for the right reasons. But could a less-than-benevolent leader, tasting this level of control, envision ways to use it for their own purposes and against the common good? Might one use coronavirus as justification to delay or cancel elections?

There are a great number of question marks in this week’s editorial. The point here is not to play Nostradamus but to remind ourselves to question. At Passover, in whatever virtual or altered form we celebrate this year, we will ask questions for which we know the answers, and have been pondering for millennia. As this unprecedented time of humankind proceeds, we should remember to continue asking. How will this experience change us? What good might come of it? How can we ameliorate the terrible things that seem to be nearing their peak? Who might be trying to exploit this situation for ill and who is modeling the best of human kindness?

For more information and updates from the B.C. Centre for Disease Control and Canada’s public health authorities, visit covid-19.bccdc.ca and canada.ca/en/public-health/services/diseases/2019-novel-coronavirus-infection/prevention-risks.html, respectively.

We’re all in this together

Does it seem like people are behaving more kindly this week? Maybe it’s the sunshine. But maybe it’s the realization, amid all the alarming news and concerns over the spread of coronavirus, that we are all, truly, in this together.

We live in particular times that may be defined – especially as exemplified by some political leaders and their followers – as uncharitable, xenophobic, chauvinistic, mean-spirited and self-interested. These attitudes have been demonstrated, among other ways, in the attitudes of many people toward migrants from other places. These ideas trickle down to the way we treat one another – in traffic, in online interactions, in schools and workplaces, in voting – behaving in ways that take into consideration only (or mostly) our own well-being at the expense of the well-being of others. There are magnificent exceptions, of course, everyday acts of kindness and gestures of humanity great and small. But our age, it can probably be agreed, includes a lot of pettiness, intolerance and plain old snark.

Our parents or grandparents understood the meaning and necessity of sacrifice for the greater good. The communal effort during the Second World War, on the home front and among those serving, was a generationally defining undertaking. While wars, sadly, have continued, in our corner of the world, the burden has fallen on an increasingly smaller number of people – those families with members in the service. But, for at least a generation of North Americans, we have not been called upon for an unavoidable collective sacrifice for the greater good. Again, this is not to say that many people are not sacrificing for the greater good – individuals are devoting themselves to causes greater than themselves, including climate change, but they are doing so by choice. They may be driven by desperation, fear, environmental justice or other motivations, certainly, but, ultimately, it is voluntary.

Then along comes a virus with apparently incalculable potential to cause illness and death and we realize that we are not so separate after all. While they have resisted on issues like climate change, governments worldwide have stepped up (some of them more slowly and irresponsibly than others) and taken seriously the science that predicts grave consequences if we do not take urgent actions now. And individuals, in the first days of what will be an unprecedented period of unknown duration, appear surprisingly amenable to following government-issued restrictions on behaviour for the hope of long-term health, not only for themselves but for those who are more vulnerable due to age or underlying health conditions.

There is nothing good about a global pandemic. But good things happen when people act in unity to advance collective well-being. Individuals and groups have responded with astonishing immediacy when called upon to act. Places of public meeting, including restaurants and cafés, have faced the painful but unavoidable truth that they have to temporarily change their service model. This will have untold economic and social impacts as staff are displaced, with concentric circles as these workers lose purchasing power and these realities ripple through the economy, already suffering multiple unknowns and slowdowns.

In our community, synagogues and communal organizations have adopted stringent and unprecedented measures, many canceling live services and opting for alternative venues like online learning.

We witness the immediacy of these factors’ economic ripples. As our community cancels public events, advertisements are understandably pulled from our newspaper. As a result, we have made the choice to cancel an additional issue next month, and not publish for two weeks, April 10 and 17, rather than the scheduled one-week hiatus. We will have a healthy Passover issue on April 3 and we urge you to support our work and celebrate the holiday by considering advertising or inserting a greeting message in that issue or in the ones resuming April 24 and after.

In the meantime, as we come together to confront this very serious challenge, we are reminded, as Temple Sholom’s Rabbi Dan Moskovitz writes in this week’s issue writes in this week’s issue, we do not do so as Canadians or Chinese or Italians or Israelis. We are people living in different places who face the same pathogens and the same reality.

In Jewish tradition, the value of pikuach nefesh, of saving a life, overrides almost every other consideration. Among other things, this suggests that we should view our current situation through a slightly altered lens. While all of us should be doing everything we are advised to avoid getting the virus, we should be doing so not only, perhaps not primarily, for our own health, but in order to prevent us transmitting it to another person. For many of us who are younger or do not have underlying health concerns, COVID-19 could be a very unpleasant inconvenience. For others we know and love, it could be far more serious.

The top advice we have received is to wash hands with soap frequently and thoroughly, and also to stay home to avoid physical contact as much as possible. Some people are suggesting we treat these days like Shabbat. Spend time with family. Read books. Take a walk. Engage in passive activities. Turn off electronics for a time to avoid the noise of the world which, at this time, is particularly loud.

And be kind to one another. If you know of a senior or other person whose health could be endangered by going out, do their shopping. See what else they might need. Call your family and friends. Set up a virtual dinner party or a play date for your kids. Since you’re not spending money on restaurants and theatre, consider donating to charity and arts organizations.

This is all good advice. But we suspect, given some unscientific observations of kindness and communal care in the last few days, that most of us already know what to do.

For more information and latest updates from Canada’s public health authorities: canada.ca/en/public-health/services/diseases/coronavirus-disease-covid-19.html.

Religion and the state

A week is a lifetime in politics, goes an adage. And so it would seem. Just one week ago, we posited that Binyamin Netanyahu’s coalition of the right was likely to form the next government in Israel. Since then, Benny Gantz, head of Israel’s Blue and White party, has been reinvigorated by Netanyahu’s challenges in pulling together a coalition, after original exit polls had the Likud-led coalition at 60 seats out of the 120 in the Knesset. This number has dropped through the actual vote count to 58, and it has changed the outlook.

As it has in the previous two elections, the result will hinge on the decision of Avigdor Liberman and his Yisrael Beitenu party, a right-wing but defiantly secular movement. Liberman has publicly released his demands for support. Among them: he will not support a government led by Netanyahu (or any other individual under indictment) and he wants to increase the number of ultra-Orthodox serving in the military, introduce civil marriage, thereby taking control of this lifecycle event from the exclusive purview of the rabbinate, and hand decision-making about commerce and transportation on Shabbat to local governments. Meanwhile, Gantz is having a rebellion in his own ranks about seeking support from the largely Arab Joint List in parliament. So, the process is largely back to where it’s been for more than a year, with no more certainty of who will form the next government.

Whatever happens, Liberman’s sweeping secularist proposals are nothing to ignore. The ally-turned-nemesis of Netanyahu, Liberman seems to have learned from the masters how to leverage minimal electoral success to enormous political advantage. In the past, it has been the religious parties that conditioned their support for desperate-to-make-a-deal leaders on getting key benefits and concessions for their respective communities. If Liberman succeeds in helping create a Blue and White government that implements some of his plans, it will represent the same tail-wagging-dog effect that religious parties used to assert Orthodox standards across much of Israeli society. Except Liberman will leverage his seven seats to repeal some or much of what those religious parties have achieved.

This Israeli moment brings to mind other rapidly changing political fortunes. Joe Biden, whose campaign was struggling to survive a few weeks ago, is suddenly (again) the undisputed front- runner for the Democratic nomination in the United States. There is another parallel between Israel and the United States that is currently evolving, this one less publicly known. While Liberman strives to diminish the connection between religion and state in his country, U.S. President Donald Trump is moving his country more in the direction of Israel’s religiously influenced society.

As in Canada, many religious organizations in the United States do an enormous amount of good, in many cases filling in gaps where government services can’t or won’t. Republican administrations have tended to expand – contract out, if you will – some social services previously delivered by governments, while the Obama administration, for example, introduced safeguards to prevent those agencies from discriminating against individuals or groups who they might deem outside their theological teachings.

Writing in the New York Times Sunday, Katherine Stewart, author of a book on religious nationalism, warned that Trump is eliminating those Obama-era safeguards and making it easier for publicly funded agencies to discriminate. For example, clients receiving services from a taxpayer-supported Christian organization could be forced to profess allegiance to Jesus in order to access services or an employee could be fired for not living a “biblical lifestyle,” the definition of which the religious organization, presumably, could define at their own whim.

A test case in Missouri seems innocent enough: a church maintains it should get federal funding to build a kids’ playground; that being refused such money represents discrimination against religion. The corollary is clear: if preventing tax money from funding religious organizations (even for something as innocuous as a playground) is discrimination, Stewart warns, “then the taxpayer has no choice but to fund religion.” This would represent an abrogation of one of the most fundamental cornerstones of the U.S. Constitution: the First Amendment, which declares, “Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion, or prohibiting the free exercise thereof….” The framers of the Constitution were concerned not only that eliminating the barrier between government and religion would corrupt a government intended to serve all citizens but, perhaps equally, that it would corrupt religious institutions themselves. A number of the people on the test case’s side are also leaders among Trump’s evangelical constituency.

What was especially jarring when perusing the Sunday Times was a far more prominent story – on page A4, to be specific – about how Quebec’s secularism law is having a detrimental effect on civil servants, mostly women, from cultural minorities. The law, which precludes people who work in most roles in the public service from showing any external indications of religiosity – a kippa, a headscarf, a crucifix, a turban – is preventing individuals from beginning or advancing in their careers and, in some cases, effectively chasing them out of the province.

These disparate examples from three very different societies indicate the folly both of excessive religious interference in governmental affairs and heavy-handed efforts to have the opposite effect. Somewhere in the middle must be a commonsensical approach to these extremities. Of the three countries in the examples, Israel is perhaps the one where the challenges are most concrete and affect the most people. What, if anything, happens as result of Liberman’s gambit will be a fascinating experiment to watch.

United by challenges

After two inconclusive elections in Israel, incumbent Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu appears certain to form a government after elections Monday, ending an unprecedented period of political instability.

Whether Netanyahu himself, under indictment and slated for a trial this month on corruption charges, will remain prime minister for long, the right-wing is certainly poised to govern for the near future. Israel’s Supreme Court explicitly refused to offer an opinion on whether a convicted prime minister could continue in office, a question that may now go from theoretical to very real.

Jews in the Diaspora, including a great many here in British Columbia, follow politics in Israel casually or closely, as many of us do the machinations of American politics that are also roiling this week. Canadian politics and those in British Columbia, around issues of environmental policy, disruptive protests and a host of other topics, have people here at home fired up about politics even without elections on the near horizon.

While there are countless issues and contests vying for our attention, there is also an undercurrent of less immediate yet possibly more ominous peril facing our democracies. Threats of external influence from bad actors, like a repetition of the Russian interference in U.S. elections in 2016, are cause for serious concern. The rise of domestic extremism – in mainstream politics as well as in the form of underground and sometimes violent movements – also deserves close attention. So does apathy.

All of these influences and attitudes present dangers to our democracies – in Canada, in the United States, in Europe and Israel. Newer democracies in Central and Eastern Europe have demonstrated how fragile the tissue of open, accountable and responsive government can be. It is alarming to witness the path that Hungary, Russia, Turkey and Poland have been on recently. Our democracies – in the United States and Canada, even Israel – may be somewhat older, but these countries are still warnings of how things that we take for granted can be snatched away. Democracy is less an enormous oak with deep and broad roots than it is a delicate flower that requires nurturing and constant attention.

For this reason, when there are government policies or election outcomes with which we disagree, we should remind ourselves that democracy may be the ultimate win-some-lose-some proposition and recommit ourselves to respect for the institutions of our democracy, not just when they serve our interests but even – especially – when they deliver outcomes that we find disagreeable. At the same time, we should be identifying and calling out every instance when a political leader or movement threatens the institutions or norms of our democracy.

Amid all of these political dramas, very daunting situations that recognize no geographic or ideological boundaries are challenging each and every one of us. This week, again, coronavirus is spreading and causing panic. Meanwhile, the dangers posed by climate change escalate every day. The economic impacts of these global concerns are blaring across the business pages: pandemic fears are causing wild stock market fluctuations, while the measures necessary to alter the course of climate change demand fundamental economic shifts. All of these threaten to exacerbate existing inequalities locally, nationally and internationally, threatening our morality and the stability of our world.

In the face of existential issues like these, the differences in our ideologies in countries like Canada, Israel or the United States fade into shades of grey. This is perhaps optimistic: that the differences between us are minimal in comparison to the difficulties we face together. That should motivate us to look beyond or to bridge our differences and recognize both the humanity in those with whom we disagree and the challenges to humankind that we must overcome together or succumb to apart.

Antisemitism, Part 2 of 2

Last week in this space, we addressed some of the challenges facing the Jewish people globally, which were put into stark relief by the latest edition of an Anti-Defamation League report titled Global 100. The most recent annual review of antisemitic attitudes worldwide paints a disheartening picture.

There are (at least) two inferences to draw from the report: that what we’ve been doing to confront antisemitism isn’t working or, perhaps more disturbing, they are working and, without them, the situation would be much worse.

First, a point that deserves repeating. Antisemitic ideas are most rampant in places where there are few or no Jews, because antisemitism is far less about Jews than about the antisemites and their need for scapegoating or other psychosocial outlets. But that fact is of limited comfort for the Jewish woman attacked on the subway or the hundreds of people evacuated from Jewish community centres around New York state last Sunday due to bomb threats.

We who are writing these words and you who are reading them can, for the most part, do little about the global situation, but the familiar saying, “Think globally, act locally,” rings as true as ever. While there are myriad organizations working nationally and internationally in the interests of the Jewish community and Israel – and we would like to see more of that, as well as some means of quantifying their results – the greatest impacts most of us can have are probably right here in our own neighbourhoods.

Again, advertising the great achievements of Jews and Israel may not be the best strategy. There is no need for, or value in, diminishing Jewish achievement and pride, but there is value in simultaneously reinforcing the universal humanity of Jewish people.

Without reopening that can of worms about whether Trump (or Bolsinaro or Orban or Modi or Mohammad bin Salman) is bad for the Jews – because we have national and international organizations operating on those macro-diplomatic fronts – what can ordinary folks like us, who feel afraid, helpless and perhaps disenfranchised, do to have an impact and, no less crucially, feel less isolated and disempowered?

As individuals, we can engage with others in our midst: with the church down the street, the service clubs in our communities, the ethnocultural groups that abound in Vancouver and across Canada, and the pet parents we meet at the dog park. The objective, we think, should not be a full court press to persuade these people that Jews are awesome. The point should be to rebuild the relationships that Jewish communities and individuals have enjoyed with the broader Canadian mosaic; not to advocate for these other groups and individuals to stand with us, but to stand with them so that, together, we form bonds of mutual understanding and care.

It is sometimes noted, especially on social media and in conversations among friends – you’ve certainly heard it – that some of the most concerning voices today are not coming from far-right radicals (though these are troubling) but from ostensibly reasonable people on the left. Ameliorating this challenge is not going to come from declaring them the enemy and polarizing our voices with their opposite – which is what is happening quite frequently in a perilous form of the-enemy-of-my-enemy-is-my-friend construction (see Trump/Bolsinaro/Orban/Modi/MBS above). The challenge will be addressed by rebuilding or strengthening the bridges between our communities and causes – not because it is the expedient thing to do, but because it is the right thing to do.

Last week on the front page, we featured two (of many) individuals in our community who are leading local voices in the movement against climate change, each using different strategies toward the same goal. They are not doing this as ambassadors of the Jewish people, of course, but they are doing so as Jews, motivated by their values and urgent commitment to saving the planet. They are Jewish allies in a diverse mix of dedicated activists.

Countless other Jewish community members are working across faiths and cultures to advance all the communities they encounter. Holocaust survivors are partnering with indigenous residential schools survivors in joint educational initiatives, and there are Jews who are actively supporting the Japanese community’s call for redress from the B.C. government for its role in the grave mistreatment of Japanese-Canadians during the Second World War. Local Jewish groups and individuals are doing everything from working to stop human trafficking to sponsoring Syrian refugees to participating in interfaith activities to making food for the homeless.

The pages of this paper are filled regularly with stories that are not, let’s say, Jewish-specific, but of Jewish people making positive contributions to the world. Motivated by a vast range of factors, often by their Jewish values, these points of light in the world are acting on issues important to them and building interpersonal and cross-community bridges in the process.

When we began this two-part conversation last week, we pointed out that, if we had the solution to antisemitism, you would have heard it. We don’t. It seems nobody does. The work being done at the national and international levels by the vast network of Jewish and Zionist organizations is mostly admirable and should be supported. But each of us also needs to look closer to home and remember that, as Margaret Mead said, a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world – and perhaps make some friends along the way.

While celebrating and preserving what is unique in our Jewishness, we should also enhance what was successful in parts of the 20th century: allying with the diversity of individuals and groups in our multicultural society to remind them – and ourselves – that we are not alone, but part of a larger human enterprise.

Antisemitism, Part 1 of 2

The recently released 2019 version of an ongoing Anti-Defamation League survey on global antisemitism, titled Global 100, contains predictable but still depressing confirmation of anecdotal evidence that antisemitism is growing, not receding, almost everywhere on the planet.

At a time of economic and social change and upheaval, people search for explanations and scapegoats. While so much can change, while we witness so many reversals and inversions, plus ça change, plus c’est la meme chose. The unified theory of the root of the world’s problems, for so many across continents and centuries, remains some variation of blaming the Jewish people.

If we had a solution to the challenge of antisemitism, you would have heard it. It’s easy to cite failures, noting that whatever we’ve been doing obviously isn’t working. The approach commonly used to fight both antisemitism and anti-Zionism – “Look at the great things we contribute to the world! Please like us!” – is almost certainly barking up the wrong tree, given that antisemites and anti-Zionists are driven, to a large degree, precisely by an envy of Jewish and/or Israeli success and achievement. Bigots never have doubted that Jews are clever; that’s exactly what they hate.

But overt bigots are not really our greatest threat. The sensibilities highlighted in the Global 100 report are slightly more oblique, evincing a complex of presumptions about Jewish character, power, influence, intentions and untrustworthiness. It is not so much discrimination of the we-hate-Jews variety, but a (slightly) more subtle bias that is extrapolated to conclude this or that about Jewish people. And these biases are held, as the report illustrates alarmingly, not by a small fringe group of violent haters, but by large minorities – and, in some societies, large majorities – of ordinary people. These are people who, on a wide range of human affairs, behave rationally and humanely, but not when it comes to Jews.

It also deserves to be noted that the statistics on anti-Jewish bias are almost directly inversely proportionate to the presence of Jews in a society; that is, anti-Jewish sentiment is strongest in places where there are few or no Jews. Because, to a large extent, antisemitism is not about Jews at all, but is a projection of the fears, animosities or ignorance of the carrier.

The wild-eyed Jew-haters who occasionally emerge are comparatively few, although the damage they can wreak, of course, is enormous. Their ideas and their actions are condemned by all good people. The broader swath of ideas Global 100 identifies as indicative of antisemitism in a society are more instinctual and less overt. The people who carry them are probably inclined to deny any conscious negativity toward Jews and would recoil from being called antisemitic. In many cases, they might be amenable to self-assessing and unlearning these attitudes, if approached appropriately and educated.

This is the hopeful part. These alarming numbers may not represent entrenched antisemitic ideas that are growing and cannot be effectively challenged. The majority of people who harbour such ideas, in Canadian and other Western societies we know best, are probably receptive to reason. So, why have we not succeeded?

Our likeliest allies – indeed, the people and groups with which Jewish people have consistently marched, organized and made common cause for a century or more: progressives, anti-racism advocates, social activists – have lately turned against us, either openly or more quietly, because they have decided that Israel represents an embodiment of antithetical values and that Jews, by extension, are inclined to have some degree of association with Zionism and are, therefore, either unwelcome in these movements or required to repudiate Israel.

There are other complexities that go beyond Israel. Certainly the antisemitism that permeates the British Labour party and some other parts of the Western left goes far beyond anti-Zionism and often echoes the basest medieval bigotry.

Nonetheless, these movements and the individuals who comprise them should be engaged, not cast away and dismissed. In many cases, they are ignorant or have not thought deeply about these topics, or they have not been confronted about the problems in their worldview. Since they are, in theory, our natural allies, we should be investing more effort and goodwill in building bridges, not blowing them up.

Antisemitism is distinct in many ways, but it must be viewed alongside the panoply of prejudices and bigotries being contested by progressive people and others of goodwill. By giving up on our natural allies – even if some of them don’t seem like allies right now – we risk the longer-term dangers of isolation or, possibly worse, befriending people who really are not our natural allies.

On the global stage, look at how Israel’s lack of friends has driven its leaders and diplomats into the arms of fascist-adjacent governments in Hungary, Poland, Brazil and elsewhere. Abandoned by its natural allies in the liberal democracies, Israel has been embraced by – and has embraced – those who should be its natural enemies. This is the potential for Jews in North America and Europe if we fail to protect and fortify the alliances previous generations have built with trade unions, progressive political parties, anti-racism activists and the broader pluralist societies we inhabit.

In next week’s issue, we will look at some approaches that are bearing fruit and other ideas we could consider in response to the challenges in the world generally and those presented in the Global 100 report specifically.