Category: Opinion

Be prepared to speak up

On Sunday, it appeared that Norbert Hofer had been elected president of Austria. By Monday, when absentee ballots were counted, he had lost by a mere 31,000 votes out of 4.6 million. The election captured worldwide attention because Hofer represents the Austrian Freedom Party, one of a string of extreme-right parties catching fire across Europe.

Hofer’s defeat was a relief to many, including Jewish organizations, but the narrowness of it is being declared a wake-up call. It wouldn’t be the first such warning. There have been multiple close calls, going as far back as 2002, when Jean-Marie Le Pen, the antisemitic founder of France’s Front National, made it to the presidential runoff. But never has any far-right figure come as close as Hofer to becoming head of state of a European country.

Hofer’s campaign of anxiety and scapegoating used Middle East immigration and associated (and unassociated) crime as an accelerant. As is happening in various places, including the “Brexit” referendum in the United Kingdom on June 23, countries are reconsidering their positions as part of the larger community of European nations. Part of this, again, goes back to the immigration issue, as some seek to bring immigration decision-making back to national capitals from the European Union.

While Europe appears a hotbed of emerging far-right parties, some Israelis are sounding the alarms over recent events there.

Over the past few days, Israel’s Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu has closed the door on a possible unity government with the left-leaning Zionist Union, setting the stage for an alliance with Yisrael Beitenu, and its leader, Avigdor Lieberman, to become defence minister, a position that Moshe Ya’alon abandoned in a flurry of disgust and condemnation of Netanyahu last week.

Some commentators say the result will be the most right-wing government Israel has ever seen. Ehud Barak, former Labor Party prime minister, said the developments amounted to “the seeds of fascism.” Three-time defence minister Moshe Arens predicts a “political earthquake.”

Lieberman, a settler himself and a leader in the movement representing Jews who live outside the Green Line, has a strong base among Russian immigrants, of which he is also one, and a reputation for antagonizing Palestinians and international diplomats. Originally a high-level member of Netanyahu’s Likud, Lieberman broke with Netanyahu over what he saw as Netanyahu’s overly conciliatory approach to the Palestinians during the 1997 negotiations that resulted in the Wye River Memorandum. Lieberman opposed Ariel Sharon’s Gaza disengagement and dismisses land for peace – the primary approach Israel has operated under for years in negotiations with its neighbors – as a “critical mistake” that will destroy Israel.

Suffice to say that politics is a vocation that invites hyperbole. Yet developments in many places – in Europe, in the United States, in Israel – invite strong reactions. The political spectrum has changed; terminology and policies differ with the times. While antisemitism has always been a defining characteristic of the far-right, some extreme-right European parties are now highly pro-Israel and eerily even philosemitic, seeing Israel as a bulwark against the “real” enemy – Islamism (or, less specifically, as is their wont: Islam). While the United States has seen its share of demagogues, it is equally true that, should fascism of some native form find root there, it would almost certainly be led by a buffoon who people underestimated for too long.

Canada sometimes seems like a blessed island in a roiling world – something we should never take for granted. It may be tempting to be smug, but instead Canadians should use our comfort and whatever influence we have to evangelize, to reclaim a phrase, for a world where moderation and tolerance prevail. While we might be more comfortable currently with politely withholding our opinions, the time may be upon us when we are truly called upon to register our disapproval of events – next door, in Israel or anywhere. We shouldn’t be afraid to speak up.

Community’s foundations

(photo by Cynthia Ramsay)

With the skyrocketing Vancouver real estate prices the talk of Canadian news media almost daily, less attention has been given to the fate of the many homes whose high property price-tags all but encourage demolition and rebuilds.

One Facebook group has been seeking to draw attention to the disappearing streetscape of Vancouver. With 10,000 followers, Vancouver Vanishes bills itself as “a lament for, and celebration of, the vanishing character homes in Vancouver.” Some houses – like one on West 15th, originally owned by an assistant salesman for the Canadian Pacific Railway – have already met their fate. Others are slated for demolition, with photos posted in the hopes that followers will register their protest with Vancouver City Council.

My late grandfather’s home – on Fremlin Street near West 54th Avenue – was recently torn down to make way for a generous new build. Purchased with my grandmother and their three daughters in the late 1950s, my grandfather lived in his mid-century vernacular bungalow for nearly six decades, until he died three years ago at age 97.

While it was spacious and modern by 1950s standards, my grandfather’s house probably wouldn’t have made it to the pages of Vancouver Vanishes. It was a standard bungalow with four modest bedrooms, generous entertaining spaces, a kitchen large enough to accommodate Passover and everyday dishes, and a spacious rec room with a wet bar for teenage dance parties hosted by my mom and aunts. With more room to spread out, it would have felt excitingly large to the three daughters and, soon, another girl they fostered, compared to the small character home on Quesnel Drive from which they had moved. But theirs wasn’t among the most celebrated Vancouver “heritage home” variety – the Storybook homes, or the Tudor, Georgian or Mission Revival structures.

Still, the Jewish community may want to pause to consider a special type of vanishing as more and more of these homes disappear. That is, the kind of community-building that took place within the four walls of my grandparents’ home, and in the homes of many other community leaders and activists of their generation.

In my grandparents’ home on Fremlin, there was organizing and affiliation with Schara Tzedeck Synagogue, then under the leadership of Rabbi Bernard Goldenberg and Rabbi Marvin Hier. As well, with three growing daughters, there were the activities of many youth groups: NCSY, Young Judea and Habonim. There was the founding and nurturing of Camp Miriam, where my grandmother was the first “camp mother.” There was much work to be done for Pioneer Women, for the Histadrut (Israel’s trade union association) and in the preparation of a weekly radio show my grandparents hosted on Jewish and Israeli themes. In between the many hours devoted to volunteer work, there were their small businesses to run – Clifford’s Jewellers in Kitsilano, and their real estate ventures.

Plus, there were Sunday waffle brunches for the large extended Margolis family – whose members had found their way to Vancouver starting in the 1940s after arriving in Winnipeg from Kiev two decades earlier – and visitors from Russia and Israel.

With their three daughters spread across Vancouver Talmud Torah, Kitsilano, Churchill and Eric Hamber secondary schools, there was a home library to nurture, classical music records to collect, family photos to display and a garden to tend: irises, tiger lilies, azaleas, rhododendrons, peonies and hydrangeas, and fruit trees – apple, pear and cherry.

By the time I was around, spending one memorable summer in the orange bedroom in the late 1970s, there were memories for me to make – like suffering my first wasp sting on the back patio – and hobbies for me to discover: there was a teach-yourself-to-type book and a learn-to-speak Spanish book to read, all while I took up tennis in the shadow of my grandmother’s formidable court skills. By Grade 8, having moved to Vancouver with my parents from Winnipeg, there were weekly dinners prepared for me by my grandfather between my school day at Eric Hamber and my Judaic studies classes at Congregation Beth Israel and at the home of Rabbi Daniel Siegel.

What is lost when a mid-century Vancouver bungalow is demolished? Wood siding, stucco, a large picture window, a tiled porch and a garden lovingly tended. But for communities, there is so much more: memories forged of childrearing, philanthropy and leadership. Luckily for Vancouver’s Jewish community, while the building materials of these homes may be gone, the scaffolding of a vibrant community – generations later – remains.

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.

Recalling the Six Day War

Jerusalem Day celebrations in Israel (photo by Ashernet)

This Jerusalem Day – 28 Iyar (June 5) – marks 49 years since the city split in two by Jordanian occupation became reunited. Nowadays, the names of battle sites are just part of our everyday language – French Hill, Ammunition Hill, Government House – but back in 1967, these were the places where armies were pitted against each other in battle.

We didn’t have Ramat Eshkol then; the hilltops of Gilo were barren and windswept. The Israeli army fought to win territory to the north and the south, until only the walled Old City was still in Jordanian hands.

The war, not of our making, was sparked on April 7, 1967, when the Syrians opened fire on Israeli tractors working near Kibbutz Ha’On, east of the Kinneret. The Israel Defence Forces returned fire, so the Syrians began shelling settlements. Israel Air Force jets were sent to destroy Syria’s artillery batteries. Then Syrian MiGs were sent to intercept them, resulting in dogfights above Kibbutz Shamir. Eventually, six Syrian planes were downed and Syria demanded that Egypt issue a response, which posed a dilemma for president Gamal Abdel Nasser. To prod him, Syria said Israel was amassing forces on the northern border, which was untrue, but Nasser sent massive forces to Sinai on May 14 and 15.

Israel had to call up its reserves, as all United Nations troops had left the Sinai and Gaza. Volunteers swarmed to help with transportation, distributing food and preparing bomb shelters, helping in factories and kibbutzim. Thousands of our soldiers were deployed along the Egyptian border waiting for cabinet to make a decision.

There were frequent meetings between prime minister Levi Eshkol and chief-of-staff Yitzhak Rabin, who said that the IDF was strong and could repel any Arab attack. There were messages from U.S. president Lyndon Johnson calling – as is always the case! – for Israel to show restraint. Egypt also was asked not to escalate the situation.

Eshkol announced that Israel did not seek war, but to no avail. The Egyptians closed the Tiran Straits. On June 5, the war began. Two hundred IAF jets destroyed the entire air forces of Egypt, Syria and Jordan: 374 planes were destroyed on the ground and the rest in dogfights. Israel had complete aerial supremacy during the six days of battle.

On the ground, the IDF entered Sinai in three columns. Jordan started shelling Jerusalem, firing day and night, resulting in many casualties, while Syrian jets raided Haifa Bay and northern settlements.

On June 6, our paratroopers surrounded the Old City and, at 10 a.m. on June 7, they broke through the Lions’ Gate, liberating the Western Wall and the Temple Mount. Lt.-Gen. Motta Gur stood near the Wall, and announced on the radio: “The Temple Mount is in our hands!”

After hours of fierce battles, the paratroopers burst into tears. According to Mordechai Rechschafner, a volunteer from Australia, “There was no sense of jubilation. We had lost too many friends. We had paid for our victory with blood and sacrifice.” When Maj.-Gen. Shlomo Goren, the chief military rabbi, arrived at the Kotel, he blew the shofar and said a prayer: “This is the day we have been yearning for. Let us rejoice in it!”

The Six Day War ended two days later, after the Israel Navy conquered the Tiran Straits and seized Egyptian army bases and airfields in Sinai, and Israel captured the Syrian fortified posts. When the Golan Heights was conquered, the war ended.

There was both great euphoria and terrible sadness. Jerusalem was the focus of the greatest celebration, but a great toll had been exacted. All day the radio played Naomi Shemer’s “Jerusalem of Gold” – it became a victory anthem.

It was three years later that I arrived with my husband and four children in Jerusalem. Forty-six years have passed, and my love for the city has deepened every day. There have been hard times and there was heartache when each of our children served in the army. When our son was a paratrooper in Lebanon, we questioned whether we had made the right decision in bringing them from the safety of their birthplace Australia. Now, most of their children have served in the army or are soon to be inducted, but none of them has ever felt we made a wrong decision. They grew up in Jerusalem and know as we do that it is special. Our feet walk over the stones that King David danced on. We pray at the Western Wall where the Holy Presence, the Shekhinah, still lingers. We travel roads on which kings, soldiers, priests and other holy men have traveled for thousands of years, century after century. Every day, we bathe in the unique quality of golden light that artists have striven to capture.

Each neighborhood in Jerusalem is different. Quiet alleyways that meander, bustling markets filled with the color and spicy smells of the Middle East, walled courtyards softened with a glimpse of greenery. Holy sites where prayers are whispered and blessings invoked. Quiet hills silhouetted with pine trees. Graveyards for the old and military cemeteries for the young. Parks where children laugh and dimpled babies are wheeled in prams. So ancient, and yet also a modern metropolis where people work, play, shop, drive, argue and love.

This Jerusalem Day, as I have for more than four decades, I will thank G-d for the privilege of living here and pray for the peace of Jerusalem forevermore.

Dvora Waysman is a Jerusalem-based author. She can be contacted at dwaysman@gmail.com or via her blog, dvorawaysman.com.

A healthy community

There are more than 26,000 Jews who live in Metro Vancouver. There is no possible way that a weekly newspaper can cover every event that happens, every milestone that is celebrated and every challenge that we face. But each week that we publish, we can provide a glimpse into the state of our community. And what we see is heartening.

Last week, for instance, our community hosted both Daniel Pipes and Achinoam Nini, two people firm and outspoken in their political beliefs. One could safely argue they represent near-opposite ends of the spectrum in this regard, and yet they both have a place and an audience in our community. This is healthy.

As well, while Nini’s Yom Ha’atzmaut concert sold out, there were some who chose not to attend because they disagreed with her politics. A handful of them protested peacefully outside of the concert; others chose to hold their own Israel Independence Day gathering. Our community can accommodate varied interests and opinions without coming apart at the seams. This is positive.

Currently on display at the Zack Gallery is a group exhibit inspired by Festival Ha’Rikud. The festival brought together dancers from Metro Vancouver, Miami and Kiryat Shmona to perform folk dances with elements from places such as Russia, Yemen, Georgia, Greece and Morocco. And the art exhibit, A Tapestry of Cultures, also celebrates “the diversity as well as commonality of the social groups and micro-societies that make up Israeli culture.” This is enriching.

With a strong understanding of their own culture and religion as their foundation, Vancouver Talmud Torah Grade 6 students have been exploring other faiths and spiritual practices. The students identified similarities and differences across the religions, and their essays show the breadth of what they’ve learned and the enthusiasm with which they have learned it. This is inspiring.

Tikkun olam even finds its way into the publication of a new novel for young adults, with the author donating 10% of the proceeds from sales to charity. And a high-tech entrepreneur is trying to save us from ourselves, and allow us to really – not just virtually – connect with each other via social media. These acts are motivating.

And these stories don’t even touch the surface. We are busy, engaging in the world around us, trying to make it a better place. When we do disagree, it is usually because we care so passionately about the same things. It’s worth stepping back now and then to acknowledge we are part of a community of which we should be deeply proud.

A people or a religion?

Ludicrous as it may sound, it is difficult for some people to understand what Jews are. To be Jewish is to be part of a peoplehood. To adhere to Judaism means one practises the religion of the Jewish people. Yet one can be Jewish and not practise Judaism. This may be called variously humanistic Judaism, cultural Judaism or any number of other imaginative descriptors.

At root, Jewishness is both a peoplehood and a religious identity, sometimes overlapping, sometimes not. This is problematic because it means Jews do not fit neatly into the categories the world likes to assign people. This becomes increasingly difficult as the world moves further toward communicating even complex ideas in 140 characters or less.

Writing in Haaretz Monday, Joel Braunold, executive director for the Washington, D.C.-based Alliance for Middle East Peace and a former leading member of Britain’s National Union of Students, says the antisemitism being exhibited by members of the U.K. Labor Party and the NUS stems at least in part from leftists’ refusal to see Jews as a national group and instead narrowly defining Jews as adherents of a religion.

Braunold makes some insightful observations about how self-identified anti-racism activists can treat Jews differently. In one instance, he writes, an ostensibly anti-racist group distributed flyers lamenting the Holocaust’s toll on Roma, homosexuals and members of other groups, while not mentioning the Shoah’s Jewish victims. They are doing Jews a favor, Braunold says some have told him, by not falling into the Hitlerian trap of defining Jews through racial categorization.

Dejudaizing the Holocaust, obviously, is appalling. Yet there is a far more common approach employed almost universally by people condemning antisemitism. It is the seemingly well-intentioned habit of condemning antisemitism and then carrying on to list many other forms of discrimination. In other words, while it is fully acceptable – as it should be – to condemn anti-black racism when it occurs in the United States or elsewhere without numerating a laundry list of other forms of racism that are unacceptable, it seems almost impossible for many people, including some elected officials, to condemn antisemitism without subsequently providing an exhaustive list of other bigotries that deserve denunciation.

It is hard to argue that this is a sign of ill will. After all, every opportunity to condemn discrimination of every kind is a good opportunity. But when it seems anti-Jewish animus is the only one that cannot be singularly condemned, it should raise questions. We can condemn Islamophobia, misogyny, historical and contemporary treatment of indigenous Canadians, inequality of minorities in Western societies, the historical wrongs perpetrated on Chinese and Indian immigrants (or would-be immigrants who were prevented from entry) to Canada and all range of other victims, yet condemnations of antisemitism seem to need qualifiers.

It may be precisely that Jewishness is confusing to some – is it a religion or is it a national identity? – that allows people to behave the way they do toward Jews. I can’t be racist, one might say, because Judaism is a religion and I should be free to criticize religion.

There is also, in contemporary Canada, a stream of anti-religiosity. “Imagine there’s no countries … and no religion too,” John Lennon sang in an anthem of a generation of dreamers.

In addition to antipathy toward religion, there is a stream of anti-nationalism at play. Some of the criticism of Israel stems from the dream of a post-national world, where, to quote Lennon again, there is “nothing to kill or die for.”

And yet, many who subscribe to some variation of this quest for an ideal post-nationalistic world by targeting for elimination the one state of the Jewish people, a people whose statelessness was the primary reason six million were able to be murdered seven decades ago, should be an obvious indicator of misplaced priorities. Especially when many of these same activists support Palestinian national self-determination, but not the Jewish version.

In his Haaretz piece, Braunold posits a unique motivator for some of the attitudes we see on the left toward Jews. It may not be the magic key that explains it all, but it is a part of the puzzle.

Why should we volunteer?

Why do we volunteer? As a volunteer myself, I never gave this topic much thought until the editorial committee of Senior Line determined to feature volunteering in an upcoming edition.

A volunteer is someone who offers their service of their own free will or without being asked. Most people who volunteer do so because they are making a contribution to society or to a selected part of society. Some volunteer because of values that have been instilled in them or are part of their heritage, or because of the examples that others have set.

Volunteers are the backbone of every not-for-profit organization that exists. They run the gamut of everything that an organization does: sit on boards of directors, raise funds for the operation of the organization, plan and chart the future of the organization, visit seniors who are shut-ins or visit the sick and infirm. These are but some of the ways that volunteers make an enormous contribution.

My interest in volunteering likely came from observing my parents while growing up in what was considered rural Surrey in the late 1940s and 1950s. Both were involved in the Royal Canadian Legion and the Newton Athletic Club. I became involved in a number of organizations that included the B.C. Association of Social Workers, Habonim Dror Camp Miriam, the Performing Arts Lodge, Congregation Beth Israel and, more recently, Jewish Seniors Alliance. My motivation? To use my experience in supervision, management and organizational development. What could I do to make a difference? It was important for me to believe in the purpose and direction of the organization and how I could fit in. I have never wanted to be a spectator but an active contributor to the positive evolution of an organization and, of course, to the services they provide.

Norman Franks represents the quintessential volunteer. Franks is a native Vancouverite whose family has a long history in the city. During his student days at the University of British Columbia, he served as president of Hillel House. At the invitation of brothers Jeffrey and Peter Barnett, who helped pioneer the establishment of Variety Club in Vancouver, Franks became a member. He agreed with the purpose of Variety and, perhaps more important, identified with them because of being the parent of a severely challenged child.

Franks also has been involved with State of Israel Bonds, as executive director and as volunteer, he was involved with Project Isaiah, the Louis Brier Jewish Aged Foundation, Vancouver Talmud Torah and the Mountain View Cemetery Restoration Committee. He has served on the board of Beth Israel and, for the past nine years, has served as parnass, helping with the administration of the congregation. Franks works for the personal satisfaction he gets from the task at hand. In his own words, “I feel blessed and volunteering is my way of showing gratitude.”

Courtney Cohen, 27, sets the standard for younger people who demonstrate a passion for volunteering. In 2013, while brainstorming with Lynne Fader, co-executive director of the Kehila Society of Richmond, Rose’s Angels was born. Cohen’s inspiration comes from her late grandmother, Rose Lewin, who she describes as “the most compassionate and selfless person I have ever known.”

Rose’s Angels is a yearly event that provides a special package to assist people who live in poverty. Agencies that received packages this year included the Jewish Food Bank, Chimo Outreach, Richmond Family Place, Turning Point Recovery and many others. The decision of what to include in the packages was based on what the agencies’ clientele needed, such as non-perishable food, toiletry items and warm socks, toques, gloves and scarves. Donations came primarily from individuals and, on Feb. 14, more than 40 volunteers recruited by Cohen gathered at Richmond Jewish Day School to assemble and deliver a total of 400 care packages and 750 warmth bundles. Cohen said she measures success by “knowing others are benefiting from our care packages and the satisfaction felt by all volunteers and donors.”

Elayne Shapray, z’l, represented a special class of volunteers for her courage and for her convictions. She was a registered nurse by profession and graduated from the Jewish General Hospital in Montreal. In her own words, “Volunteering was always in my blood and I had the luxury of not having to work. I wanted to give back to the community. I got more from volunteering.” Shapray had an enviable record for the volunteering she undertook: Planned Parenthood, palliative care at Vancouver General Hospital, helped start L’Chaim Adult Day Centre, UBC Women’s Resources, served on the boards of Jewish Family Service Agency and Beth Israel – it was Shapray who initiated the annual coat drive at BI 22 years ago.

At age 39, she was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis, but she never disclosed her malady to the organizations she volunteered with so she would not receive any special treatment. Her days as an active volunteer ended about two years ago. Her most recent diagnosis was progressive secondary MS and, from 2011, she had been in the media about the “right to choose,” physician-assisted dying. She will be remembered for her caring, involvements and beliefs.

Larry Shapiro is a “wild and crazy guy.” He is energetic, entertaining and fun to hang out with. He and his wife, Dianne, moved to Vancouver from Montreal more than two years ago to be closer to family. In Montreal, he was involved with civil

defence, Zionist causes and his Masonic lodge. He became an advocate for his very independent late mother’s well-being, ensuring all her needs were being met.

As a new Vancouverite, it was important for him to meet new friends and to become involved. Initially, he joined Oakridge Seniors’ Centre, where he now sits on the board of directors. Shortly thereafter, he met Serge Haber, the founder of JSA, who invited him to volunteer as a peer counselor. After meeting the program’s trainer, Grace Hann, Shapiro entered the 55-hour training program. Today, he has five seniors with whom he is in regular face-to-face contact, and he is now on the executive committee of JSA.

Shapiro has some thoughtful insights about seniors who may feel isolated, lonely and possibly depressed, and believes that interaction with seniors in need requires more than mere physical care. He noted, “Listening is important and it is something not all of us do well. People have a story to tell and they want to relive their lives through storytelling even if it’s repetitive. I have seen the positive effects that peer counseling can make. It is often an instantaneous and spontaneous return to normalcy because it involves another person who listens and cares unconditionally.”

Do volunteers make a difference? Re-read this article and you will know the answer.

Ken Levitt is a vice-president of the Jewish Seniors Alliance of Greater Vancouver and a former chief executive officer of Louis Brier Home and Hospital. A longer version of this article will be printed in a forthcoming Senior Line.

 

 

A London lesson

Britain’s Labor Party is going through a crisis as successive low-level and, more recently, senior members of the party express antisemitic attitudes.

Ken Livingstone, the former mayor of London and a Laborite familiarly known as “Red Ken,” told television audiences last week that Hitler was a Zionist, repeating a common and despicable theory usually limited to musty corners of the internet, implying that the Holocaust was all a ploy to engender sympathy that would lead to the creation of the state of Israel. Livingstone apologized if people had taken offence to his words but did not apologize for what he said.

Around the same time as Livingstone – a stalwart of the party’s left for decades – was getting in hot water, so was Naz Shah, a party rising star. The MP accused Israel of behaving like Nazis and suggested that Israel be relocated to the United States, an explicit call for the ethnic cleansing of Jews from the last refuge of the Middle East where they have not yet been eliminated.

The conflict broke into the open, at least in the international media, in February, when one of the co-chairs of the Labor club at Oxford University resigned, declaring that a large proportion of club members have “some kind of problem with Jews.”

Jeremy Corbyn, the Labor Party leader whose own record of allegiances leans more toward Hamas and Hezbollah than it does toward democratic, Jewish Israel, has called an inquiry into antisemitism in his party. Yet, this did not stop one of Corbyn’s shadow cabinet members and closest allies from dismissing allegations that the Labor Party has a problem with Jews as a “smear.” And some have declared the condemnations of antisemitism in the party a “new McCarthyism.”

While all of this sounds like bad news – and it’s hard to argue that the presence of antisemitism in one of the Western world’s major political parties is anything but – there is a silver lining.

The fact is that ideas like these have been percolating on the left and elsewhere for years. They are expressed daily in certain forums on the internet and pop up in private conversation even among people who are respected and trusted on other topics.

In recent years, we have seen individual eruptions of outlandish accusations against Israel – indeed, “apartheid,” “genocide” and accusations of Nazism and the perpetration of a holocaust are accusations thrown routinely at the tiny outpost of democracy. That antisemitic outbursts in Britain’s Labor Party have reached a critical mass that could no longer be dismissed as the unrelated rantings of misguided individuals has led to a much-needed confrontation over the topic. Now, the party must confront and address the problems in its ranks.

From a Canadian perspective, this has particular interest, because our New Democratic Party, in some ways a child of the British parent party, is entering into a period of reflection and reinvention. Its last two leaders, the late Jack Layton and the recently defenestrated Thomas Mulcair, tried to eradicate from their party not-uncommon expressions of anti-Zionism that sometimes relied on anti-Jewish prejudice as an accelerant. The spectacular failure of the Mulcair-led NDP in the last election is leading some to say that a turn to the more extreme left is, if not an electorally advantageous move, at least an ideologically pure way forward. Such recidivism would almost certainly involve some rehabilitation of old anti-Israel fixations.

Yet, it is always better to shine light under these rocks than to allow these ideas to mutate. In Britain right now, we are seeing the predictable illogical extremes to which unchecked anti-Zionism can lead. It will be informative to watch the public discussion that transpires. Though differences are vast, the political cultures of Canada and Britain still have some strong parallels. Perhaps, if Britain confronts in this matter now, Canada will not need to later.

Talking about Israel as a family

Sixty-eight years ago, when Israel was born and became the state of the Jewish people, a family was created. As with any other family that has a complex history, there is love and arguing, support and fallings out in the Israel mishpacha. To make things trickier, Israel is what we would call a blended family, whose members come from wildly varying geopolitical, socio-cultural, ethnic, religious and linguistic backgrounds.

This variety makes for a richness you would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere – the intensity and vigor of which those visiting or missing Israel so often speak. However, the blended Israeli family is fraught with tensions brought about by both the baggage each member has and the difficult neighborhood in which they live. Because Israel is the only Jewish state in the world – our only “family home” – each discussion about it feels of utmost consequence, even to Israel’s extended family of Diaspora Jews, who feel strongly about their connection to that familial home and the relatives living in it.

Not long ago, the announcement that singer Achinoam Nini (Noa) had been invited to perform at our community’s Yom Ha’atzmaut celebration on May 11 set in motion a heated debate about where we draw our red lines when it comes to criticizing Israel. The Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver made a decision to welcome Noa despite the objections of individuals who disagree with the artist’s political views, and Ezra Shanken, JFGV’s chief executive officer, expressed his hope that our community would continue the Jewish tradition of welcoming diversity of opinion and embracing respectful debate. As we celebrate Israel’s 68th birthday, I think it would be worthwhile to take a look at how our blended family handles conflict and disagreements when they arise from within, and do a little cheshbon nefesh, soul searching, about how we each might be contributing both to the family’s well-being, as well as to internal friction and divisiveness.

With Israel, we so often focus on the external conflicts, sometimes at the expense of looking at what is happening in our own backyard, and this is something we cannot afford to do any longer. For our blended family to thrive and prosper, it is not enough anymore to stand united against enemies. The strength of a tight-knit family depends less on the extent to which its members agree on every issue, and more on how they communicate their disagreements and live with differing points of view under one roof. We all share a moral obligation to set an example for the children and youth in our community, and show them that the Israeli family of which they are a part is strong and confident enough to welcome and even encourage different opinions and points of view.

So, how do we have disagreements and important discussions without engaging in the kind of destructive behavior and accusations that tear at our familial fabric? Is it possible to have difficult conversations from a place of mutual respect, even when we don’t see eye to eye? I speak from experience when I say that, while not easy, it is, in fact, possible. I have friends from across the political, national and religious spectrums, and I cherish the ongoing, sometimes challenging, conversations I have with them about Israel. With those conversations in mind, I would like to offer a few points to consider and some basic strategies I have found helpful when discussing Israel.

We have something important in common. Whenever you engage in a discussion with a fellow member of the tribe who holds different opinions about Israel than you do, remember that you wouldn’t be having that difficult conversation if it weren’t for the fact that you both care enough about Israel to take the time and argue. If you are not sure this is the case, ask the person a simple question: Do you care about Israel? If they answer yes, then, as surprising as it may sound, you have some common ground – a starting point for a respectful exchange of ideas. It is not always comfortable to accept that someone who holds a political view we disagree with comes, as we do, from a place of caring about Israel. But that is a discomfort we should learn to lean into and work with if we want to help foster within our community the democratic value of free speech – the same value that sets Israel apart from other countries in the Middle East.

Respond rather than react. Yes, there is a difference between the two. When we react, we re-act specific lines, roles and dialogues, just as a well-rehearsed actor in a long-running play would do. Unsurprisingly, reaction-based discussions usually feel like rather irritating déjà vus. When we respond, we do so from a sense of responsibility (response-ability): we know that we are not merely actors with memorized lines, and that we have the freedom to improvise, to choose to keep an open mind in those conversations where our default mode is to be judgmental, get defensive or go on the offensive.

Next time someone says something about Israel that makes you want to yell at them, “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” or “How can you say something like that?!” ask instead “Can you tell me more about what you just said?” It won’t feel natural at first because improv moves us out of our comfort zone. Nevertheless, try it. Be curious. We all have a human need to be heard and we all know how unpleasant it feels when our words are ignored or dismissed. Really hearing someone out is a beautiful, positive way to practise what Rabbi Hillel believed to be the essence of the Torah: what is hateful to you, do not do unto your neighbor.

Respect the importance of our personal histories. So much of who we are, what and how we think and how we feel about any given issue is a result of our personal history. When and where we were born and raised, our family’s past, our religious background, the influential people and key experiences in our lives – all of these and more also contribute to how we relate to Israel. If we understand that each one of us has such a personal history that affects our worldviews and that these histories differ from person to person, we move a step closer to accepting that it is inevitable for a variety of opinions about Israel to exist within our community. Once we accept this truth, we can choose to find it in ourselves to treat with respect even those with whose opinions we disagree.

In Hebrew, the words kavod (respect), kibud (honoring/acknowledging) and koved (weight/difficulty) all stem from the same root. Truly respecting “the other” and acknowledging from where they come and their right to hold different opinions to ours can, indeed, feel difficult and burdensome at times. Yet, if we want to help create a strong community that honors the histories and diversity of all its members, we should view this effort to respect the other as a blessed weight that we choose to carry, like that of an unborn child.

If you are a regular reader of the Jewish Independent, it is safe to assume that you, too, care about Israel. As we celebrate Israel’s birthday this year, I invite you to envision the kind of legacy or family heirloom we want to leave for the next generations in our community. In my mind, I see a vibrant, warm, colorful, imperfect and unique patchwork quilt to which each of us can add a symbolic piece of ourselves as the dialogue about our beloved Israel continues to unfold. What is your vision? And what are you willing to do to make it a reality?

Pirkei Avot (Ethics of Our Fathers) teaches us that “it is not upon us to complete the work, but that neither are we free to desist from it.” Our work as fellow members of the extended and blended Israeli family is to do tikkun olam (repair of the world). And tikkun olam begins with us, at home and in our community. So, in our conversations about Israel, let us all commit to being a bit more curious and a little less judgmental. Let’s treat one another with kavod and remember that the strength of our family is directly proportionate to our ability to be kind to one another.

Yael Heffer is an educator who has been working with children and families in the Vancouver Jewish community for close to 10 years. She is currently completing her master’s in child and youth care, is involved in social emotional learning research and is training as a clinical counselor. She grew up in South America, Germany and Israel and is a strong advocate of nonviolent communication.

UNESCO a mockery

There are those who envision a future without Israel in it. No one knows what the future holds, yet there are some who, in their enthusiasm for a future without a Jewish state, are reinventing the past.

Last week, UNESCO, the United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization, passed a resolution that effectively negates millennia of Jewish history at the Temple Mount in Jerusalem.

The holiest site in Judaism and the physical centre of the Jewish world, is the place where the first and second temples stood. The remnants of the Second Temple, the Western Wall, is the place on earth toward which Jews have prayed for 2,000 years when they have not been able to pray at the Wall itself.

The land is contested because, in the eighth century, Al-Aqsa Mosque was constructed on the site of the temples’ ruins. To be generous, the Jews may have been there first, but it is nevertheless a holy site for Muslims as well. Tell that to UNESCO. According to the wildly ahistorical resolution last week, Jewish claims of ancient connection to the place are bogus.

The resolution, which repeatedly refers to Israel as the “Occupying Power,” includes a litany of offenses allegedly perpetrated by Israel and Israelis, including “storming of Al-Aqsa Mosque/Al-Haram Al-Sharif by the Israeli right-wing extremists and uniformed forces,” and accuses Israel of “planting Jewish fake graves.”

In addition to pages of condemnations of Israel, the resolution repeats familiar accusations that deny any Jewish connection to Judaism’s holiest site.

The resolution was submitted by Algeria, Egypt, Lebanon, Morocco, Oman, Qatar and Sudan, countries that each have their own unique challenges that nevertheless do not detract from their obsession with imagined Jewish slights against Islam.

But the resolution was supported by numerous ostensible allies of Israel, including France, Spain and Sweden, as well as Russia. The United States, Estonia, Germany, Lithuania, the Netherlands and the United Kingdom voted against. (Canada is not on UNESCO’s executive board.)

This sort of nonsense spewed up from agencies of the UN, to say nothing of the General Assembly, further undermines the legitimacy of what could be the world’s most valuable international forum and makes a mockery of the vision of the UN’s founders. None of this matters, of course, to the inmates who are running the asylum.

Will the NDP survive?

While there were signs that the New Democratic Party’s rank and file were somewhat ambivalent about Thomas Mulcair’s leadership, the magnitude of the party’s rejection of him Sunday was stunning. Fully 52% of delegates to the party’s national convention in Edmonton voted for a leadership convention, in effect ousting Mulcair as leader.

The NDP, having almost never been a serious contender for government, has generally been accepting of a leader’s inability to win federal elections. But never had the party been so tantalizingly close to power as it was after Jack Layton’s 2011 result, which catapulted the party into official opposition for the first time. In last October’s election, under Mulcair’s leadership, the party returned to its historic levels: a poor third place.

Mulcair’s ability to remain as head of the party after that showing was destined to be a challenge. Many New Democrats never viewed Mulcair as ideologically pure, coming as he did from the Quebec Liberal party. He became leader in part because many believed he had the experience and capability to build on the Layton legacy and lead the NDP into government for the first time. His failure last October to realize that dream was, in retrospect, the end of the story.

The coup was fairly bloodless. There was little overt campaigning against his leadership and each delegate seems to have made their individual decision, which led to a collective rejection unprecedented in federal politics.

In his short speech to the delegates after the vote results were announced Sunday, Mulcair urged the party to come together in unity behind whoever is to replace him. Yet that seems like extraordinarily wishful thinking.

Mulcair, because he embodied the prospect of electoral success, was able to keep a lid on some of the most extreme elements in his party, including the far-left and the anti-Israel extremists (between which there is a great deal of overlap). At the convention that ousted him, the party gave a thumbs-up in principle to the so-called Leap Manifesto, a hard-left document that could probably guarantee electoral failure for a generation. The party also divided sharply between those who see climate change as a priority challenge and those who believe the party must continue to support workers above all, including those in the host province of Alberta whose industries often contribute to global warming.

So, the question may not be whether the party will now take a left-leaning lurch, as the U.K. Labor party has done, or whether it will pursue the more pragmatic path set by Layton and Mulcair, but rather whether the hard-core leftists and the pragmatic centrists can coexist at all. Especially with the Liberal party sucking the air from the centre-left of the political spectrum, whether the NDP can maintain any sort of cohesion is a bigger question than who will be the next leader.