Opinion – Page 76

Hard to find humour

Purim is a time of deception and inebriation. The story we commemorate in the reading of the Megillah is one of hidden identities and near catastrophe. As is often humorously pointed out, the Purim story ends as most Jewish holidays do, celebrating victory over oppressors and overindulging.

Purim is a fun holiday, with layers of meaning for people of different ages. The young (and many of their elders) enjoy the costuming and playacting, while we appreciate both the laughs and the historical and contemporary nuances of the shpiel perhaps more as we age.

The circularity of the Jewish calendar is both an indicator of consistency and of constant change. While the readings and rituals may stay more or less the same century after century, we as individuals and as a community are different than we were when we read the same verses last year, or the years before.

Certainly, much has changed since last Purim. We were keenly aware of this when we prepared this year’s Purim spoof page. Each year we have a few laughs (and try to bring some to readers) by making fun of current events. But it becomes exceedingly challenging to conjure witty parody when real-life events beggar belief and seem like bad TV comedy.

On Purim, we try to upend the truth or make fun of situations by taking them to their extremes. This takes special aplomb when upended truths and extreme situations are the apparent norm.

The parallels extend beyond the form, even mimicking substance. If the White House today is Ahasuerus’s castle, in this far-fetched narrative, there is even a Jewish consort credited for reining in the worst inclinations of the king.

George Orwell is invoked constantly these days, and rightly so. The fictional dystopia the author imagined in 1984 bears creepy similarities with current events.

The U.S. president habitually says (or, more frequently, tweets) outright falsehoods, either completely made up from within his own imagination or regurgitated from untrustworthy sources on the fringes of the internet. Then he repeatedly refers to legitimate media outlets as “fake news.”

The lies are so bald-faced and the accusations so exactly misdirected that we need to wonder if, rather than being the product of an unhinged loose cannon, they could conceivably be part of a genius strategy. Could it be that the president is inundating his constituents and the world with so many outlandish assertions and utter deceits that he is trying to inure us before laying on something he’s had in the works all along? If this sounds crazy or paranoid, well, we can review the facts, such as they are, next Purim.

We must be united

More than 100 headstones were vandalized at the Chesed Shel Emeth Society cemetery in University City, Missouri. (screenshot from cbc.ca video )

We do not need to delineate the full roster of antisemitic incidents that have made the news recently. Toppled headstones, bomb threats against Jewish institutions, spray-painted swastikas, defaced mezuzot, hate messages left on doors, physical assaults in France.

On the one hand, there is a necessity to catalogue and condemn each and every incident – and police and Jewish community organizations are doing this. On the other hand, for the sake of our own individual and collective sense of security and peace of mind, we must try to assimilate these incidents into some sort of coherent narrative that, hopefully, does not lead to panic.

For the sort of individual who would desecrate a cemetery after dark, there could be a perverse thrill in making global news for what may have been little more than a drunken act on a Saturday night. The fact is that these acts – in North America certainly – are perpetrated by a tiny number of individuals. A somewhat larger number of dedicated antisemites will take cruel pleasure in the grief and fear these acts instil in Jewish communities and individuals.

The most important thing is how the great majority of people react to such incidents. It is deeply heartening to see Muslim communities uniting with Jewish communities to make right as many of the toppled gravestones as possible in St. Louis and Philadelphia. This is a model of unity in the face of hatred.

It is also necessary for the broader public – those neither Jewish nor Muslim or having membership in other targeted groups – to express their outrage and opposition to such expressions.

The situations in which Jewish and Muslim Americans find themselves are different. Muslims are being specifically targeted not only by racist individuals and groups, but by agencies of the state. This is a particularly frightening scenario. Jews are being targeted by apparently random acts of desecration and hatred. This is frightening in a somewhat different way, in that government actions, ideally, are subject to the checks and balances set out in the U.S. Constitution and we hope that those safeguards survive and thrive in this era.

Imagine deplaning after a domestic flight in the United States and being met by security officials demanding to know “Are you a Jew?” This is an immensely chilling prospect. And this is precisely what some Muslim travelers have experienced in recent days: officials of the state demanding identification papers and inquiring as to whether travelers are Muslim. Additionally alarming is the fact that many people would probably never have heard about these incidents had one of those who experienced it not been Muhammad Ali Jr. Thank goodness, at least in this context, for America’s celebrity culture.

While there have been innumerable antisemitic incidents in recent years, those who are not immersed in such news are often only dimly aware of the frequency and increasing severity of these events. When a Jewish friend posts news of a new attack on social media, you will thankfully see condemnation from Jewish and non-Jewish friends alike. But you are as likely to see shock and disbelief.

More important than what Martin Luther King Jr. called the strident clamour of the bad people, in times like these, is the appalling silence of the good people. Part of this is caused by the refraction of media and the isolated silos of information in which we have surrounded ourselves, so that we do not encounter ideas or news from outside our respective bubbles. There are many people who simply do not yet know the extent of anti-Jewish and anti-Muslim incidents taking place.

Those who do know are elected officials in positions of power. It is heartening to see Canadian leaders and many in the United States Congress expressing solidarity with the victims and condemning the perpetrators. U.S. Vice-President Mike Pence has been at the frontline of showing solidarity with targeted Jewish communities, at least. Getting appropriate remarks out of President Donald Trump has been troublingly difficult.

We may not be able to pre-empt the actions of individuals who are driven to topple gravestones or call in bomb threats. But the finest antidote to such incidents is for ordinary people to come together in condemning these acts and speaking out in favour of the values of respect and inclusiveness. As a targeted community, Jewish Canadians and Americans have a unique role in both making others aware of what is happening and showing our Muslim friends and fellow citizens that we stand with them, as they are standing with us in communities where desecrations have taken place.

Acknowledging – and demonstrating – that we are all in this together is our best hope for thriving in these times.

These times call for solidarity

When a multicultural country like Canada faces a stark rise in hatred targeting one ethnic group, its social and ethical solidarity is put to the test. The question for Canada’s Jewish establishment is, how will it respond to the shocking spike in hatred targeting the Muslim community?

On the heels of the Quebec City mosque shooting, which left six worshippers dead, and then a hate-filled protest outside of a Toronto mosque, a private member’s motion to condemn Islamophobia was introduced in Parliament. Regrettably, the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA) is opposing the motion, at least in its current form.

Liberal MP Iqra Khalid introduced the non-binding motion (M-103) urging the government to “better reflect” the Canadian Charter of Rights and Freedoms by “quell[ing] the increasing public climate of hate and fear,” while “condemn[ing] Islamophobia and all forms of systemic racism and religious discrimination.” Her motion also asks Parliament to convene a study to address these issues and “to conduct needs assessments for impacted communities.”

As the motion – intended to express the will of Parliament but falling short of having any legal force – acknowledges, there are already Charter provisions for opposing racism and discrimination. And Section 319 of the Criminal Code already outlaws “communicating statements in any public place, incit[ing] hatred against any identifiable group where such incitement is likely to lead to a breach of the peace.” But, sometimes, the law is not enough to signal collective revulsion.

The demonstrators outside the downtown Toronto mosque held signs such as “Ban Islam” and “Muslims are terrorists.” Interviewed on camera, one of the protesters makes the following chilling observation: “They [she presumably means Muslims] start out friendly and, before you know it, they grow so much in population that they take over.” The interviewer challenges her: “This is sounding a lot like what people said about Jews at one time,” to which the protester replies: “There’s no comparison. Jews were not evil.”

For its part, CIJA calls M-103 “flawed.” As CIJA head Shimon Koffler Fogel writes, the motion “requires us to silence legitimate concerns or suppress a public conversation about those strains of Islam that pose a real and imminent threat to Jews around the world,” adding that the motion “denies space and opportunity within the Muslim community to confront those strains of Islam that do indeed exist and do indeed cause harm to the majority of Muslims who do not subscribe to an extremist ideology.” For these reasons, CIJA is urging lawmakers to oppose it.

It’s not the first time a private member’s motion has been introduced to focus Canada’s attention on a specific form of hatred. In 2015, Conservative MP James Bezan asked “all members [of Parliament] and all Canadians [to] join me in denouncing antisemitism.” In 2015, Liberal MP Irwin Cotler asked the “House [to] condemn the alarming development of a new antisemitism….” And then, of course, there’s the 2010 Ottawa Protocol on Combating Antisemitism, which convened parliamentary representatives from an array of countries to call out antisemitism.

CIJA director of communications Martin Sampson shared with me the amended text of the motion CIJA proposed to Khaled, including trying to add a clause that would “recognize that criticism and condemnation of any and all forms of extremism is not only acceptable but necessary in a free and democratic society; and tasking the proposed study to define ‘Islamophobia in Canada.’”

Bernie Farber, former head of Canadian Jewish Congress and now head of the Toronto-based Mosaic Institute, a diversity, peace and justice organization, said he is “baffled and stunned” by CIJA’s opposition to the motion.

Is the lack of explicit acknowledgment of the legitimacy of criticizing religion a problem, as CIJA is suggesting? No. Parliamentary motions have no legislative force. The existing Criminal Code – including laws governing freedom of expression – will remain unaffected. Fogel’s claim that the motion will silence criticism by force of law is simply wrong. It may serve to dampen enthusiasm for the kind of hateful anti-Muslim demonstrations we saw in Toronto, but that is the point.

Or perhaps the vagueness of the term Islamophobia is a problem. Sampson calls the word “politically charged and imprecise.” Cotler, for instance, is suggesting that M-103 be amended to say “anti-Muslim bigotry.”

But, like homophobia, Islamophobia is simply the term that exists to denote this form of bigotry. When I asked historian of language Liora Halperin why the term got saddled with the more clinical “phobia” suffix instead of acquiring the more straightforward “anti” prefix, she acknowledges that phobias are psychiatric diagnoses, not ideologies. But, she adds, “in practice, fear is indeed part of racism.”

The term antisemitism – which, ironically, was coined by a German antisemite – captures the unique phenomenon of Jew hatred. Similarly, Farber argues, “hatred of Muslims needs its own specific word to get people to understand the importance of what this kind of hatred of Muslims can do. And we’ve seen it, sadly, right here in Canada.”

These times call for solidarity in the face of rising tides of antisemitism, Islamophobia and all other forms of racism. In the wake of the mosque massacre and the hateful protests on Toronto’s usually peaceful streets, coupled with the shadow of U.S. President Donald Trump’s xenophobic policies, the time is now for Canadians to stand together against Islamophobia. That’s the word we have, that’s the member’s motion being proposed, and that’s the wave of hatred – one prominent wave among many, sadly – that we urgently need to address.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She is a columnist for Canadian Jewish News and contributes to Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward, among other publications. A version of this article was originally published on haartez.com.

Why not wait and see?

Things seem to be way out of control these days. So many of the things we used to take for granted in our lives now seem topsy-turvy. There used to be a right and a left, liberal, conservative, moral, immoral. Could it be really true that a rich guy with all the power in the world, who previously used his power to exploit the weak, rip off the powerless, abuse women, exploit racism, has become an upright guy? Maybe?

Witness U.S. President Donald Trump’s relentless focus on creating new jobs for those who have been displaced in their work by globalization, by robotization, by environmental imperatives. Witness a realpolitik that ignores political correctness and confronts fears we all have that we will be overwhelmed by an ideology of global supremacy that hides behind a religious façade.

What if Trump ignores the short-term advantage of going along with the power of oil and population numbers in the Middle East, trade interests in Europe, debt holdings of U.S. treasuries in China, and asserts support for a beleaguered Israel, gives notice that the United States is again prepared to fight robustly to maintain its international stature, and disarms Russia by seeking common cause in areas of common interest from a position of renewed military strength and commitment? What is wrong about making a serious effort to maintain the integrity and respect of America’s borders, and recognizing that international trading arrangements have ignored the reality that certain partners’ internal politics have undermined and eroded the supposed advantages of those arrangements? Perhaps his lack of ideology will overturn Republican extremism, make the United States a better place for millions of the country’s illegals, by finding some path for them to a legal presence there, and result in a replacement health program that is better for Americans than the one that has been dictated by gridlock and lobbyists.

We are seeing some of the power guys shaking in their boots about what Trump is going to do next, how he is going to shake up the country, and the world. Will he confront legislators who are lapdogs for lobbyists? Is he actually going to create jobs for those blue-collar guys who are having trouble adjusting to a changing world and are looking at a jobless future? Is he actually going to stop potential terrorists from getting into the United States? Will he confront cyber hackers, no matter what the cost to innocents, privacy concerns and the niceties of international relations?

There is that side of the coin. How many innocents will suffer in the process of getting the job done? How many in his base will presume a freedom for racism, misogyny and anarchy? Does our distaste for his past and some of his bedfellows mean we can’t trust him? Because the fact is that some of us just don’t trust the motives.

But are motives the be all and end all? What if he does actually tackle those countries that are abusing the rules set by trade agreements, like Mexico, China and some other countries? What if he actually is going to support a U.S. alliance with Israel? What if he calls Iran’s bluff or confronts Saudi Arabia, Turkey, the Emirates, Iran, etc., on their policies that favour terrorism? What if he challenges the Palestinians on their refusal to recognize a Jewish state and a Jewish presence in the West Bank, which is legal and sanctioned by the Oslo Accords?

Surely we are overdue for a change from Barack Obama’s failed policies. Why shouldn’t we lean on some of these guys? Why shouldn’t we put the United Nations on the backburner where it belongs, because it caters to the worst actors in human rights? Shouldn’t we go for American energy independence and deal with the consequences of using new technology?

Aren’t there some things that need fixing? Could some of the things we hate be the price for better policies in other areas? Don’t we have to wait and see what we are really going to get before we push the panic button?

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes was recently published.

Condemning bigotry

A group of people gathered outside a Toronto mosque last Friday carrying signs reading “Ban Islam” and “Muslims are terrorists.”

The idea that a group of Canadians would stand outside a place of worship and call for an entire religion to be banned is an act so bigoted that it deserves universal condemnation. This was not, it needs to be noted, a protest against a particular statement, like that of an imam in Montreal who recently issued a call to “destroy the accursed Jews.” When clergy or places of worship enter the realm of hate speech, calling them out is legitimate. Standing outside a mosque demanding that Islam be “banned” is an affront to our country’s constitution and values.

Of course, among this country’s values and central to our constitution is free expression. There is the inevitable balance between free expression and expressions of hatred, a balance that courts are occasionally called upon to discern.

That balance is the subject of debate – some of it extremely unpleasant – as a result of a parliamentary motion, M-103, before the House of Commons this week.

Partly as a result of the horrific murder of six worshippers in a Quebec City-area mosque Jan. 29, Toronto Liberal MP Iqra Khalid made a motion to “recognize the need to quell the increasing public climate of hate and fear” and to “condemn Islamophobia and all forms of systemic racism and religious discrimination.”

Some opponents, including Conservative MPs, have raised concerns that condemnation of “Islamophobia” could stifle legitimate conversations about Islam and the relationship between terrorism and extreme elements of the religion. Others, like National Post columnist Rex Murphy, take issue with the very term Islamophobia, which suggests fear, an emotion that may or may not be the primary concern here.

A similar issue we struggle with is the term “antisemitism,” which does not always seem to suit discrimination. Many prejudices about Jews are unconscious, therefore not necessarily consciously “anti”-anything. Moreover, many stereotypes about Jews involve “positive” attributes. But “All members of this group are awful” or “All members of this group are awesome” are simply flip sides of the same coin of prejudice.

In any event, these are the words that have come into common parlance and this is the nomenclature with which we are dealing. And the “debate” around this current motion is startlingly reminiscent of a similar debate over condemning antisemitism that took place two years ago almost to the day. Some expressed concern that criticism of Israel could become illegal, while others insisted singling out antisemitism was unnecessary, since we already have laws against the promotion of hatred against identifiable groups. The stifling of criticism of Israel was nonsense, of course, as are fears that “creeping Sharia” or banning condemnation of Islamist terrorism will somehow become enshrined in law due to M-103. When a particular group in Canada experiences a surge in negative expressions toward them, it is right that elected officials note and condemn it.

It is wise to remember what M-103 is in the first place. It is a parliamentary motion that is more a statement of wishful thinking than of law. As such, it seems the perfect tool for a message against Islamophobia. We do not need to criminalize all manner of expression, even when it borders on hateful or discriminatory. But it is a fine thing indeed for our elected officials to express their opposition to it, as the elected voice of Canadians.

Of course, they do not speak for all Canadians. There are Canadians, like those who protested at the mosque last week, who are openly expressing anti-Muslim attitudes. They would presumably not support a motion that wishes such attitudes were not part of the national dialogue.

Likewise, the obscene and hateful messages, including death threats, received by some of M-103’s proponents contradicts the argument that anti-Muslim attitudes are not a significant force to address in Canada. A poll released this week suggesting that one in four Canadians would agree with a Trump-style travel ban on people from Muslim-majority countries is another signal.

There can be no doubt that Islamophobia, or whatever we want to call it, is a problem of some proportion in Canada. We should call it out, as should our elected officials. The arguments against the motion should be particularly familiar to Jewish Canadians, who heard similar lines around condemning antisemitism. The vocal opposition to the very idea of condemning any particular form of bigotry should itself be evidence that Canadians and our elected officials should rise to the occasion.

Bibi’s visit to Washington

Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu’s visit to the White House generated more buzz than policy direction. But there’s nearly as much to be gleaned from what he and U.S. President Donald Trump didn’t say as from what they did. Here are some takeaways.

Trump is eerily out of touch with antisemitism. Given the apparent spike in antisemitic incidents across the United States, including 60 bomb threats to Jewish community centres across North America in January alone, one reporter asked Trump what he planned to “say to those among the Jewish community in the States and in Israel, and maybe around the world, who believe and feel that your administration is playing with xenophobia and maybe racist tones.” In response, Trump opened bizarrely with a reference to the number of Electoral College votes he received. Then he deployed the classic “some of my best friends are Jewish” evasion by mentioning his Jewish daughter and son-in-law and grandchildren. He concluded by saying, “you’re going to see a lot of love.” On the heels of omitting the mention of Jews from the White House statement on International Holocaust Remembrance Day – though his opening remarks mentioned “survival in the face of genocide” – this evasion continues the chill.

Does Trump know what a one-state solution means? Trump seemed to roll back the longstanding U.S. commitment to two states by saying, “So I’m looking at two-state and one-state, and I like the one that both parties like.”

It’s not clear that Trump is aware of what he means by a “one-state” solution, particularly since people tend to use it very differently. The Israeli right-wing has, in recent years, spoken of a one-state solution involving various forms of West Bank annexation. In this scenario, it’s unlikely that Palestinians would be given full rights. However, Israeli President Reuven Rivlin has recently called for annexing the West Bank and providing full voting rights to Palestinians. On the left, the one-state solution has certainly meant a single, democratic state. In that scenario, refugees would likely be given full rights of return and the culture and identities of both national peoples would be elevated. It’s unlikely that Israel would accept such a situation. But, given the extent of settlement entrenchment in the remaining territory, which would have been allocated for a Palestinian state under a two-state scenario, all of these ideas need to be explored.

As for settlements, Trump was more critical of Israeli settlements than one might have expected, given his settlement-supporting pick for ambassador to Israel, David Friedman. “I’d like to see you hold back on settlements for a little bit,” he told Bibi.

A Jewish state is not what it seems. Bibi has done a masterful job over the last several years in pointing the world’s attention to the fact that the Palestinian Authority has not recognized Israel as a “Jewish state.” No less than five times in

Netanyahu’s remarks at the Washington press conference did he declare that Palestinians must recognize “the Jewish state.” At the same time, he hid the fact that the Palestinians have, in fact, recognized Israel’s right to exist in peace and security. On Sept. 10, 1993, the day before the Oslo Agreement was signed, Palestine Liberation Organization head Yasser Arafat wrote to Israel’s then-prime minister Yitzhak Rabin that the PLO “recognizes the right of the state of Israel to exist in peace and security.” Bibi need not look far for the texts of these letters of mutual recognition. They are on Israel’s own Ministry of Foreign Affairs website.

As for Israel’s demand that the Palestinians recognize Israel specifically as a “Jewish” state, observers realize that this is code for denying Palestinian refugees the right of return. This is a contentious issue and will have to be part of the final status negotiations. In sum, it is not up to the Palestinians to recognize

Israel’s Jewish character; that is an internal matter. It’s up to the Palestinians to recognize Israel’s existence, entailing safety and security – and that, they already have done.

What’s the substance? Skilled orator that he is, Bibi stressed he wanted to deal with “substance,” not “labels,” uttering the word “substance” five times. By substance, he made clear he wanted the Palestinians to recognize Israel as a “Jewish state” (see above) and wanted Israel to retain security control in the eastern part of the West Bank. Wouldn’t it be something if, by “substance,” Bibi meant that everyone in the areas currently under Israeli control is entitled to basic civil rights and human rights? Maybe that’s too substantive. One can dream, though.

Blessings of love, religion

Once a month, my husband (a secular humanist Jew) and I (Roman Catholic) join the Fraytik tsu Nakht at the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture. At the Friday night secular humanist Shabbat celebration, we sing songs, light candles, eat challah bread, and sing in Yiddish and Hebrew. But what I am also learning is the humanistic approach to Jewish cultural heritage.

At the celebrations, they give a great deal of importance, as it says in the text that we read, “to human dignity and the human power to make a better world … and gratitude for the wonders of the world.” Being from a Latin American country, I do not know Yiddish or Hebrew, but I have memorized the lyrics to songs like “Daylanu Shalom” and “Hineh Ma Tov,” so I can sing along with the other people.

When I married Carl, I enjoyed imagining that I was married to a relative of Jesus Christ, since I am practising Catholicism and Jesus is Jewish. We found out that we have more things in common than we imagined. We really enjoy seeing all the similarities and sharing them. For instance, I go with Carl to his Jewish events, where we light candles “to reflect on our own light and the light of others, we praise the healers, the builders and the dreamers. We celebrate the peacemakers, those who teach, who nurture, who love, who share, and those who create for humanity.” At the same time, I have an altar in our room, where I spend time praying the rosary, lighting candles and meditating. Carl comes with me on Sunday to listen to Mass, and is curious for something new, like listening to Mass in Latin, hearing the sermon or just listening to the beautiful music from the pipe organ at Holy Rosary Cathedral, where I belong. Our relationship is based on respect and acceptance, so we can both learn from each other without judgment. Together, we discover that hope is bright and love fills our hearts.

This past year, like every year, we received a phone call from one of Carl’s friends inviting us to his home to celebrate Passover. For me, this means learning more about his culture and imagining how was the Last Supper that Jesus had with his disciples. I love the prayers, the singing and being with good friends who accept me and welcome me, even knowing that I am Catholic, but, above all, I enjoy it because I’m taking part with my husband, who I love.

Carl and I married in a civil ceremony, a Jewish ceremony and in the Catholic Church. We learned that celebrating our differences has made us closer and that religion, far from being a barrier, is a blessing from our Higher Power, however we understand It.

Delta Vazquez Leon has worked part time for Holy Rosary Cathedral for almost four years as an administrative assistant-receptionist. Her mother tongue is Spanish, and she helps Spanish-speaking parishioners in their needs. Some Sundays she assists in the distribution of Holy Communion, and participates in any way she can in Cathedral activities. In her spare time, she likes to write, draw and paint.

Inciting violence

On Feb. 6, Igor Sadikov, an elected student representative at McGill University, tweeted “punch a zionist today” (sic). The statement stirred some reaction, though not the universal revulsion that should greet incitement to political violence in Canada. The Student Society of McGill University (SSMU), on which Sadikov serves as an elected representative, has declined to condemn him or remove him from his position.

Instead, the brunt of vitriol appears to have been reserved for another member of the SSMU – one who is Jewish. At a public meeting where the violence-inciting statement of a councilor should have been the top agenda item, the tables turned and, instead, Jasmine Segal, a fellow councilor, who told the audience she is a Zionist, was singled out for condemnation.

The McGill Daily, a student-run newspaper that has an explicit policy of refusing to publish anything perceived as pro-Israel, has been a voice on campus emboldening voices like Sadikov’s. In writing about the SSMU meeting – under a header boldly declaring the article “News,” as opposed to commentary or opinion – the paper “reported” that “many at McGill and in the wider world are portraying it as an incitement to antisemitic violence.”

For the education of readers, the author of the piece explained: “This interpretation rests on the conflation of Zionism with Jewishness which, while widely believed, is in fact a misconception; many Jewish people do not identify with the settler-colonial ideology of Zionism or the goals and actions of the state of Israel.”

One member of the audience at the meeting said he felt personally threatened by Sadikov’s tweet, in response to which a student who identified herself as Palestinian declared that she felt unsafe because there is a self-avowed Zionist on council.

“Since SSMU has a social justice mandate,” she asked, according to the Daily account, “why does it allow Zionist councilors on council, when Zionist ideology is inherently [linked to] ethnically cleansing Palestinians?”

On a Facebook post after the meeting, Segal wrote about being targeted by the audience and abandoned by her colleagues on council.

“I was left isolated and alone to respond,” she wrote, in a statement that has been widely shared. “My fellow representatives sat in silence and permitted this malicious, prejudicial and unjustified attack to continue. Instead of rising to state that this abusive conduct would not be tolerated at this meeting and at McGill at large, I was left alone to answer prejudicial questions that should not have had such a platform. I was under attack and did the best I could to try and redirect to the issues of the meeting and … bring down the rising temperature in the room.”

The fact that most of Sadikov’s colleagues on the student society stood by him and that it has been Segal who has been made to feel like the wrongful party is not surprising. It is reflective of a general lack of compassion and listening, including among those who claim to be stewards of social justice and intercultural understanding.

Time was critics would specify that they are condemning policies of the Israeli government, not Israel’s right to exist. Now, the journalistic voice of students at McGill University just declares that the movement for Jewish self-determination has nothing at all to do with Jews, and a student considers themself “unsafe” in the mere presence of an individual who believes the Jewish people have a right to a homeland. Worst of all, even when someone literally calls for violence against fellow human beings, the overall reaction is not to condemn such incitement, but to turn against the Jew in the room.

Chatting with my father’s G-d

I am 69 years old and I have been living with multiple sclerosis for the last 29 years. During that time, my disability has affected my spirituality, and vice versa.

I grew up with Orthodox Jewish maternal grandparents in the same house as my less-than-Orthodox parents. Spirituality is about love if it is about anything, and my earliest memories of spiritual experience are all tied up with my love for my grandfather and his for me.

I was very close to my grandfather, Shmuel (Samuel) Silberberg. He died when I was 12, but until then, for as long as I can remember, I sat with him in the synagogue in the rows closest to the ark. There was a sense of belonging – those old guys were connected. Looking back, it is funny that I had a strong sense of belonging where I definitely did not belong. Young girls were not wanted there. But my grandfather belonged, and it was clear to all that he thought I belonged with him. He was not argued with. Even my father, Moishe (Morris) Novik, sat with the other 50 regular guys in the middle toward the back. He sat where he belonged, which was not up front with me and the old guys.

After my grandfather died, there was no more sitting with the old guys in the synagogue. I got sent upstairs to sit with my mother and the rest of the women. It just wasn’t the same. There was one row of old women who had that aura of belonging, but the other women were chatting or moving around. My connection to Judaism drifted away.

Around 1978, I went to visit my parents in New York. To my chagrin, I realized that my children, ages 8 and 6, knew nothing about being Jewish and knew plenty about Christianity. Oops. If I didn’t give them a sense of being Jewish, our dominant Christian culture would move in. When I returned to Vancouver, I searched for a place our family would fit. For a single, lesbian, politically active welfare mother, this wasn’t easy. But the children and I persevered, and we found the Peretz Shul (officially the Peretz Centre), a progressive secular Jewish place of education and culture. Our Jewish identity was saved – we had an anchor. I came to see spirituality as the sense of belonging that I remembered and that I needed for my children. Every Sunday I took them to the Jewish school and, once a month, there was a potluck lunch following. The kids had secular bar and b’nai mitzvah, and all was well.

By 1988, the woods and physical movement were my spirituality. My son had moved out on his own and my daughter was staying with family in California, so I hiked, cross-country skied, and spent time in British Columbia’s backcountry. The woods and mountains were my holy places, my grounding and my anchor. I found it impossible to wander in the beauty and not feel in every fibre of my body that I was part of something so much bigger than I.

Enter primary progressive multiple sclerosis. In this type of MS, disability gets steadily worse, without pause or remission. And my world was – and is – turned upside down. In the midst of this chaos and uncertainty, where was my anchor now?

In 1989, I took a medical leave from the travel agency I owned and moved to an A-frame home on friends’ property in Mission, B.C. No electricity, no running water. I chopped lots of wood. My MS moved slowly. I could happily live in the bush while trying to sort out what it all meant. I was blessed to find a weekly aboriginal healing circle, through the Mission Indian Friendship Centre, that warmly welcomed and grounded me.

Back on the farm, I walked with the dogs to the waterfall and talked to G-d, the G-d who was and is very much my father’s G-d. He had a personal relationship with G-d and, as a kid, I learned from watching him. When we went to the cemetery, he chatted with his dad and mom. He would stand by their graves and have long, friendly conversations, and I would watch with awe how the talks were never solemn, just friendly and intimate. When he was done, he would always ask if I had anything to add. I would shake my head and he would smile. There was never any pressure that I should talk.

The important lesson I learned was that it is OK to talk to dead people. And they will listen – they are interested. I spoke about this lesson at my father’s funeral. When one of my children or I had a problem, some people would say, “I’ll pray for you.” My dad would say, “I’ll talk to my friend upstairs for you.” He was just a regular guy who spoke about his friend upstairs in the way he would talk about any neighbour. For me, as a child and even now, this relationship is soothing and comforting.

With the chaos that MS brings to my life, sometimes a breakthrough comes when I can step back from the insurmountable roadblocks and see them instead as stepping stones on my path. This is difficult for me. My first impulse is to kick, scream and deny every new loss. Yet it is crucial to see the stepping stones so I can move forward. I remember that from hiking.

In 1990, I was back on my porch in Vancouver and missing the aboriginal healing circle. I thought, “Wait, I have my own ritual.” Around this time, my son, who had just become a father, said, “Mom, it’s time to go to synagogue.” And I said, “I know where to go.” We went to Or Shalom, where I found much grounding and a sense of community. I told a friend at Or Shalom that I hadn’t been to synagogue in 30 years. She just said, “Welcome home.” And home it was to me, my son and my granddaughter. Over the years, people have asked, “How did you manage to get your son to come to synagogue?” And I tell them it was his idea.

A few years later, in 1994, I wanted a way back to the woods. I had heard of therapeutic horseback riding, and I thought that, with the horses, I could get there. My first lesson, just 10 minutes of riding, felt great. I was convinced that this was going to sort out my hip joints, legs and back. That happened, and the surprise was that my soul and psyche were also woken up. I always felt like I had just done something grand. I, who don’t often feel proud of myself, suddenly felt quite proud for getting on this obstinate horse, Brew. He was an elderly, beautiful chestnut gelding. But strong-willed, like me. Before I got on a horse, I would always have a minute where I thought, I am insane to climb all the way up there. But, as soon as I got up there, I felt wonderfully alive. The day I rode Visteria, a big 16-hand chestnut mare with an amazingly smooth walk, it was like gliding along on top of the world. My hips unlocked and I felt my spirit rising.

For a few years, those horses were my anchor, my connection and my strength. Riding gave me back the joy of moving. I began to realize again how much my sense of spirituality was connected to physical movement. Hiking, long walks, swimming and horseback riding put me in a place where I could be connected to G-d, where I could feel myself part of a larger whole. But, with MS, there was one loss after another. I went through several aids: cane, then walker, then scooter, then horses.

Before the MS diagnosis and the losses in mobility, did I talk to G-d? Not much. The first conversations I remember happened in my year in Mission, during my daily hikes to the waterfall, with G-d and the dogs my daily company.

Now, with my mobility much more compromised, I still find G-d time where I can. The conversations now centre on “meaning.” What does this new life mean? What am I supposed to be doing? And so often G-d answers, “Go write.” I complain about the endless health maintenance that leaves so short a day, and G-d answers, as she always has, “Go write.”

Can I say exactly where spirituality is in my life and what it means for me? I am still a tad confused. Primary progressive MS slowly and persistently takes stuff away, so, in the 29 years of the illness, I have reinvented myself over and over and over again. The long hikes are just a memory, and I don’t often get out of my house to my synagogue anymore. Now that my physical movement is so limited, will I find a way to grow more spiritually?

Still, when I need spiritual guidance, I ask my father to talk to his friend upstairs. My father smiles and says, “You can talk yourself now, you know.” We both know that I do have my own conversations. But I still like using him as my go-between.

Ellen Frank was a writer, activist, mother, grandmother and retired travel agent, author of Sticks and Wheels: A Guide to Accessible Travel on the Lower Sunshine Coast (Ouzel Publishing, 2006), Taking the Reins (Kindle, 2011) and several articles published in anthologies and in periodicals, including the Jewish Independent. She lived with primary progressive multiple sclerosis from 1988 to her death in January 2017.

Choose to shine light

While settling into a fresh hotel room, one may be tempted to open drawers and doors, survey the facilities, and thumb through the room service menus or local entertainment guides that are usually provided to help guests plan outings. There’s often a Gideons Bible in a bedside table as well.

But guests in six Coast Hotels in British Columbia recently got more than they expected when they flipped through the pages of Apple Town, a magazine in English and Japanese that they found among the room offerings. Instead of suggestions for day trips or restaurant options, the magazine proffered antisemitism.

“‘International finance capital’ means ‘Jewish capital,’” one article reads. “Jewish people control American information, finance and laws, and they greatly benefit from globalization because they move their massive profits to tax havens so they don’t have to pay any taxes. Many Jewish people support the Democratic party. They are the top 1% as described by Thomas Piketty, and the remaining 99% feel dissatisfaction and anger towards them.”

Shortly after the “literature” was brought to wide public attention last week through social media, individuals and Jewish advocacy agencies, including the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA), demanded that the hotel chain remove the offending materials. In short order, Coast Hotels complied and the president of the company declared that the antisemitic opinions “in no way reflect the values of Coast Hotels, its leadership team or its employees” and that the company does not believe “there is any room for commentary that causes offence or concern to any group.”

Yet, how does material like this find its way into B.C. hotel rooms in the first place?

A few months ago, Coast Hotels was purchased by Japan’s APA Group. That corporation’s president, Toshio Motoya, is a prominent figure in right-wing Japanese politics. (APA is an acronym for “Always Pleasant Amenities,” which contradicts the experience of some who thumbed through Apple Town magazine last week.) Motoya supports the militarization of Japan and is an historical revisionist who whitewashes Japan’s actions in the Second World War. He claims that the Nanking massacre and the use by Japanese soldiers of sex slaves, euphemistically called “comfort women,” are fictions perpetrated by China and Korea.

In the fashion of Henry Ford, who in the early part of the 20th century distributed antisemitic and historically dubious propaganda through his car dealerships, Motoya’s political imaginings are featured in Apple Town, which is apparently distributed through his hotels.

Kudos to all those who took action to have the magazines removed from B.C. hotels. But we do wonder about how many other hotel guests in Japan and possibly elsewhere in APA’s chain are getting antisemitic amenities with their complementary toiletries.

This is, of course, one small incident in a world that seems to be experiencing a flurry of hateful expressions. But in such darkness there is always room for light. The actions of a few can have a positive impact, as the outcry against Apple Town indicates.

The hundreds of people who gathered in Vancouver Saturday night to mourn the six people murdered at Muslim prayers in Quebec on Jan. 29 are another example. Nothing can bring back the lives of those murdered, but demonstrations such as this – and others that occurred across the country – can help heal the fears and isolation of the targeted community.

And then there are smaller acts of decency, like those of passengers on a New York subway car on the weekend. The train car had swastikas drawn in felt pen on every window and on every advertisement. Across one ad was written “Jews belong in the oven.” Passengers took it upon themselves to remove the graffiti with hand sanitizer and tissues. It was a small collective act that resonated across social media.

The world today has many situations that can cause us anxiety and sadness. One of the simplest and wisest axioms of our tradition declares it is better to light a candle than to curse at the darkness. Each of us has the potential to shine a little light through our actions and words. That is important to remember in times like these.