Opinion – Page 93

Apology spoof short-sighted

As election season progresses in Israel, how Israelis are seeking to position themselves is becoming clearer than ever. In its attempt to unseat Bibi Netanyahu, the joint Labor-Hatnua slate is billing itself as the “Zionist Union,” a moniker that rankles many, including prominent Arab-Israeli writer Sayed Kashua in a recent piece in Haaretz. The left-wing Meretz slate, which features a young politico who happens to have proud cousins in the Ottawa Jewish community (disclosure: I am one of them), is taking a different tack, underscoring the degree to which its policies differ from what has come before. “Revolution with Meretz,” its campaign posters declare. Most fascinating to me, though, is one of the ads coming out of right-wing-nationalist Naftali Bennett’s campaign.

In it, Bennett, head of the Jewish Home (HaBayit HaYehudi) Party, is dressed as a bearded hipster. As he makes his way around Tel Aviv, he is afflicted by a comedic apology problem. In a café, the waitress spills coffee; he apologizes. On a narrow residential street, his car gets rear-ended; he apologizes. On Rothschild Boulevard, a fellow denizen makes her way to a rented bicycle after he’s claimed it; he anxiously backs away, apologizing. Finally, he is shown on a park bench, reading the liberal-leaning Israeli broadsheet Haaretz, where he is reading a reprinted column from the New York Times, headlined “Israel needs to apologize.”

“From now on, we’re going to stop apologizing,” Bennett tells the camera, removing his costume. “Join HaBayit HaYehudi now.”

It’s a bit of brilliant campaigning, the message is seeking to appeal to Israelis’ collective core sense of self. No one wants to feel that their very existence requires an apology.

The policy question, of course, lies in whether Israel’s ongoing conflict with the Palestinians entails giving up the country’s core identity, or whether there is something else going on, namely the occupation. It’s an ongoing tension in how we understand the situation. On one hand are contemporary depictions like those in the otherwise excellent series The Honorable Woman (now streaming on Netflix) that suggest that Israelis and Palestinians just need to leave each other alone and peace will prevail. The unspoken truth, though, is that there is a very real overlapping set of territorial claims being cruelly manifested not only by Hamas rockets from Gaza and terrorist attacks from east Jerusalem and the West Bank, but also by the Israeli occupation. There, in the West Bank, day-to-day Palestinian freedom of movement is curtailed by settler-only roads and staffed checkpoints.

As Bennett has made clear in his increasingly vocal policy pronouncements, under his rule, the occupation would not end – it would simply morph into a sort of apartheid-like area in which Israel annexes part of the West Bank, with Palestinians granted autonomy in the others. In other words, no Palestinian state.

Bennett’s ad suffers from another problem: a reluctance to consider the idea that so much mutual pain has been inflicted by both sides – whatever one thinks of his annexation plan – that some conflict resolution measures may need to include mutual apology, just as mutual recognition has been an important currency of Israeli-Palestinian relations.

There is one area where Bennett’s ad does contain some wisdom: in identity politics. But it’s really only half a serving of wisdom. The crux of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict has been that neither side has been willing to truly recognize the material and identity needs of the other. Through riffing on the idea of apology being absurd, for Bennett to imply that Israel has a right to exist, is fine. But unless Israel recognizes the right of the Palestinians to the same, Bennett’s platform will appear to exist in a moral, political and strategic vacuum.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She blogs at Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. This article was originally published in the Ottawa Jewish Bulletin.

Bipartisan support of Israel

The controversy around Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu’s speech to the U.S. Congress this week was so fraught with partisan rancor – or at least with punditry alleging partisan rancor – that the theme at the AIPAC conference in Washington, which immediately preceded the prime minister’s address, was “all bipartisanship all the time.”

Democratic U.S. Senator Ben Cardin and Republican Senator Lindsay Graham opened the event Sunday morning with emphatic assertions that American support for Israel overrides all partisan politics. The message was repeated later in the day by top Democratic and Republican officials from the House of Representatives. Messages of cross-partisan rah-rah for Israel were featured in many of the conference speakers’ messages and on the massive 360-degree screens encircling the U.S. capital’s cavernous convention centre. The American ambassador to the United Nations made the same case.

As the country’s greatest ally in the raucous Middle East, Israel is somewhat akin in the American political culture to the U.S. military – one can criticize policies and politicians, but it is de rigueur to restate philosophical support for Israel as a great ally and for the right of Israel to defend its citizens.

This sort of bipartisanship has not always been the case in Canada, which has a very different perspective on foreign affairs and, sometimes, on Israel. But that has changed, according to a panel of Canadians who addressed the conference.

Shimon Fogel, chief executive officer of Canada’s Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, moderated a session featuring Jonathan Kay, editor of The Walrus magazine and former comment page editor of the National Post, and Terry Glavin, a Victoria-based commentator and author.

“Israel has won the battle of ideas in Canada,” Kay said.

While many credit Prime Minister Stephen Harper with leading the change, both men see a deeper shift in public opinion. Glavin called it “tectonic.”

The change is due to a few things, the two commentators agreed.

Anti-Zionism comes in a grab bag with anti-Americanism, Kay said, and Canadian anti-Americanism is in freefall since Barack Obama became U.S. president and Stephen Harper became Canadian prime minister. (It’s hard to condemn Americans over, say, environmental issues when Obama vetoes the pipeline Harper backs.)

The rise of social media has also played a back-door role. The CBC was routinely criticized for being anti-Israel a few years back, but the social media backlash every time biased reporting occurred – aided by groups like Honest Reporting – has led to fairer coverage.

“I actually find the CBC’s coverage of Israel pretty good,” said Kay.

The 9/11 terror attacks also provided a major impetus for changing Canadian views of friends and enemies. But the Canadian military engagement in Afghanistan perhaps drove the major shift of opinion, said Glavin. Two generations of Canadians had not seen active wartime mobilization. The fight against radical Islam, in the form of the Taliban, changed perceptions of global issues, including Israel’s struggle against nominally different but ideologically parallel enemies.

Where anti-Zionism was most successful – on university campuses – most students now roll their eyes at the “trite and ritualized” debate on both sides, said Kay. In terms of professors supporting the BDS movement, he added, it is the “least consequential” academic organizations making the case. And gay rights groups opposing Israel are “underemployed” activists who have won most of what they were demanding.

Significantly, he continued, at the national level, the elements of the Liberal and New Democratic parties that once condemned Israel for every imaginable crime have been reined in by their parties. Notoriously anti-Israel NDP MP Svend Robinson is gone from the scene. His ideological successor in anti-Zionism, Libby Davies, has announced she will not seek re-election in Vancouver East, although Kay said she has already been “defanged” by party leader Thomas Mulcair, who Kay said makes no apologies for his support for Israel.

Glavin noted that the Arab Spring, which represented the rising of 300 million more or less enslaved people, made it “difficult to make the case that Israel is the big problem in the Middle East.”

Both men noted that the shift began with Liberal Prime Minister Paul Martin, under whose leadership Canada changed its voting patterns at the United Nations. The pro-Israel position accelerated under Harper, particularly after the 2011 election when the Conservatives won a majority and John Baird was appointed foreign affairs minister. Baird, who left politics this year, was greeted with a hero’s welcome at the AIPAC conference.

While Canadians are proud to be different than Americans on many fronts, the consensus on Israel that has reigned in the United States is now dominant in Canada, as well.

The value of duty, empathy

When Vancouver-based philanthropists Rosalie and Joe Segal announced a lead gift of $12 million towards a new centre for mental health, I felt deeply moved. I had had occasion to visit a loved one at the old facility a few years ago. By any measure, it was a depressing, dilapidated and lifeless space. The new facility promises the kind of physical atmosphere of compassion and dignity so necessary to recovery.

The planned $82 million centre is slated to open in 2017. In recent Globe and Mail coverage, a reporter asked Joe Segal what brought them to this latest philanthropic decision.

I’ll depart here for a moment to mention that there is a common journalistic convention whereby the writer introduces a quote by paraphrasing. In this case, the reporter said that the Segals’ decision “came from a place of empathy.” Then came the actual quote from Joe Segal: “You have an obligation, if you live in the community, to be sure that you do your duty.”

Are empathy and duty the same thing?

The two vantage points at first seem quite different. Empathy is about actually experiencing the plight of another. There is clearly an affective component. Duty somehow feels more legalistic, perhaps even at odds with emotion. As philosopher Immanuel Kant famously said, “Duty is the necessity to act out of reverence for the law.”

If empathy is more about feeling, experience and emotion, and if duty is more cognitive and legal, it seems we need to be concerned with how to summon both values across society. I turned to colleagues to help me better understand the relationship between the two concepts. For some, a viscerally emotional connection between the two is indeed present.

International theory scholar Daniel Levine points out that, for a sense of duty to function, citizens need to feel reverence for institutions, even those that we ourselves have created. Or, perhaps having created laws and ways of living for ourselves is precisely what motivates a sense of duty, “we revere it precisely because it’s ours; we are the sovereign,” Levine suggests. “We are free because we legislate and judge for ourselves.”

For professor of Jewish philosophy Zachary Braiterman, the cognitive and emotional elements are intertwined, “duty has an affective element, an excitement of the senses around a task at hand.”

And, for Jewish filmmaker Eliyahu Ungar-Sargon, “duty flows from empathy, in that moment when I connect the suffering of another to my own experience and that touches a kind of primal anger which motivates action.”

In Jewish tradition, philanthropy – or tzedakah – is considered a legal imperative. The Hebrew word itself shares a root with righteousness and justice, and it does not contain the affective aspects that the Greek-based word philanthropy does, meaning love of humankind.

Empathy in general seems to be less obviously discussed in Judaism, until one realizes that the Torah’s golden rule – “Love your neighbor as yourself” – is ultimately an empathy imperative.

When it comes to mental illness, it’s especially important to keep both duty and empathy in mind. Empathy can be extra hard to summon towards those who are in the throes of the disease. Some forms of mental illness cause sufferers to refuse treatment. Some victims act socially or otherwise inappropriately. Sometimes the sufferer no longer even seems like the actual person.

The Segals are clearly aware of how insidious and invisible mental illness can be, and the challenges around recognizing it and treating it. As Joe Segal told the Globe and Mail, “Mental health was under the rug, and we tried to lift the rug so it can become visible.”

It’s a powerful reminder of how empathy and duty are important elements in building a better society – both for helping those in personal crisis and for enabling us all to live the values of kindness, generosity and compassion.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She blogs at Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. This article was originally published in the Ottawa Jewish Bulletin.

Concerns over Europe

The attack on a Copenhagen synagogue – and the public reaction to it – has been illuminating. It also raises echoes from Danish and Jewish history, in ways that are not encouraging.

Of all the many incidents during the Holocaust when non-Jews acted righteously, one of the most notable and successful was the evacuation of Denmark’s Jews in 1943. The Danish resistance, aided by throngs of ordinary Danes, mobilized a flotilla of fishing boats to convey Danish Jews to Sweden, thus saving 99 percent of Denmark’s Jewish population at a time when other Jewish communities in Europe were being annihilated.

This extraordinary example of dangerous sacrifice in defence of Jewish people and basic humanity has rightly given the Danish people a special place in the narrative of opposition to Nazism. The narrative, at times, has gotten out of hand, as with the debunked story that the Danish monarch, King Christian X, himself donned a yellow star as an act of solidarity when the Jews of his country were ordered to affix the signifying marker to their clothing. In fact, Denmark’s Jews were among the few in occupied Europe not required to wear the yellow star. This story may not have been true, but the underlying message of Danish solidarity with the Jewish people against the Final Solution is undeniable.

It might have been expected, therefore, that Denmark would live up to its reputation in the aftermath of the recent terror attacks that wounded five police officers and killed two civilians – Finn Norgaard, a 55-year-old filmmaker who was attending a free speech symposium that was the gunman’s first target, and Dan Uzan, a 37-year-old congregant serving as security at the city’s Grand Synagogue.

In a heartening show, 30,000 Danes gathered on Feb. 16 for a vigil to commemorate the two terror victims. The current monarch, Queen Margarethe II, expressed condolences and restated her country’s commitment to the values “that Denmark is based on.”

However, a number of concerning responses cast a shadow over the fine words and deeds of these Danes.

Prime Minister Helle Thorning-Schmidt called the murders a “cynical act of terror,” but then offered this ponderous and contradictory observation: “We don’t know the motive for the attacks but we know that there are forces that want to harm Denmark, that want to crush our freedom of expression, our belief in liberty. We are not facing a fight between Islam and the West, it is not a fight between Muslims and non-Muslims.”

The motive for the attack could hardly have been clearer. First, attempt mass murder at an event explicitly dedicated to free expression then, for good measure, head over to a synagogue to kill some Jews. The actions of the perpetrator betray the motives in the most obvious manner imaginable. It is baffling that the prime minister should have chosen to cast question on the motive. And while it is widely held that the actions of violent radical extremists do not represent a universal trait of Islam, it still rings odd to hear the leader of a country in such a situation tack on a declaration about what the incident is not, while offering no specifics about what is at the root of the attack.

Far more disturbing was the veneration given to the perpetrator. The funeral for Omar Abdel Hamid El-Hussein, who police say was responsible for both attacks and who police shot and killed, was attended by an estimated 500 people. One organizer said the turnout was a sign of support for the family of the gunman, not an endorsement of his actions, but the crowd of hundreds at the funeral of a murderer of this sort is not a good sign.

Moreover, flowers were left at the scene of El-Hussein’s death, as is the mania these days anytime a tragedy strikes. These were later removed – by masked men chanting who said their actions were based on the fact that Muslims (like Jews) do not mark the passing of people with flowers.

These weird and disheartening reactions stand in contrast with the uplifting story of the moment – the “circle of peace” that took place last weekend in Oslo, Norway, in which 1,000 Norwegian Muslims and their allies encircled a synagogue in an act of solidarity and protection.

Similarly, the involvement of a Muslim figure with a history of antisemitic rhetoric drew some criticism, though organizers pointed to his participation as a sign of progress and that change is possible even among radical extremists and fundamentalists, and those who espouse hate.

Zionism’s meaning in Diaspora

After the attacks in Copenhagen, like after the violence and vandalisms that have rocked the French Jewish community, Israel’s Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu is urging the Jews of Europe to come to Israel as violence against Jews and Jewish institutions increases across that troubled continent.

This call for a new mass aliyah is being met with opposition by European leaders – including Jewish leaders. In Copenhagen, more than 30,000 people, led by their prime minister, commemorated the victims of the terror attacks. Copenhagen’s chief rabbi, Jair Melchior, told the Associated Press, “People from Denmark move to Israel because they love Israel, because of Zionism. But not because of terrorism. If the way we deal with terror is to run somewhere else, we should all run to a deserted island.”

Coincidentally, in preparation for our upcoming 85th anniversary issue, we were perusing old copies of this newspaper recently. We came across a commentary from July 1948 titled “Zionism should be wound up.” The author argued that the motive for Zionism – the creation of a Jewish state – had been realized and so the global enterprise should be concluded: even as Israel was literally fighting for its survival in the ongoing War of Independence, and so soon after the Holocaust.

Zionism had been a divisive force in the Diaspora Jewish community, including here in Canada. There were pro- and anti-Zionist Jews of left, right and centre politics, and of Orthodox and secular persuasion and everything in between. Some arguments against Zionism as a movement relied on religious foundations, contending that the ingathering of the exiles would coincide with the messianic era. Other arguments were emphatically secular with the left holding, for example, that it was incumbent upon Jews to remain where they are and fight for a better world for all, rather than retrenching to nationalistic or religious-based separations.

Reading the editorial from 1948, one particular sticking point was that community fundraising efforts had been overwhelmingly allocated to the Zionist effort. Now that the goal had been achieved, the author argued, it was time to redirect fundraising and spending inward, to individual Diaspora communities and to resurrect the “kehilla pattern” of community building and security, with each community taking care of its own needs.

Despite the writer’s conclusion, as successive wars and decades of terrorism confronted Israel, Zionism was not shelved. It morphed into a different type of movement. No longer mobilizing for the creation of a Jewish homeland, it became the overseas support group for the country. After 1967, when “the occupation” altered perceptions of Israel at home and abroad, Zionism again became a divisive cause. But for those two decades, the Jewish people were probably as united as they have ever been in support of Israel.

The lesson of the second half of the 20th century proved the lesson of the first half. Close to a million Jews across the Middle East and North Africa were forced, driven or encouraged by various means to leave their homelands. The difference for these people was that there was now a place where Jews control the immigration policy. Had such a place existed in the 1930s, the impact of the Holocaust may have been massively reduced. Nitpickers will contend that it was the creation of the state of Israel itself that led to the expulsion of Jews from the Arab world, but this equivalency, whatever its merits, does not distract from the underlying point: Jews have often lacked security and permanence in places where they are a permanent minority.

However, being a majority is no assurance of safety. Despite Netanyahu’s invitation, all is not nirvana for the Jews of Israel. Violence and terrorism are not unknown, and life is challenging in different ways than in Europe. It also needs mentioning that everything Netanyahu says and does right now must be seen through the prism of political expediency as the Israeli elections approach.

Nevertheless, these events raise a very serious question: What does Zionism mean today for people in the Diaspora?

There are probably more answers than there are Jews and, in a way, this is the question we grapple with, in one way or another, in these pages every week. But this conclusion may be safe to draw: it is not quite time for Zionism to wind up its affairs.

Compassion in the face of death

Last week, the Supreme Court of Canada unanimously struck down the law that makes it illegal for doctors in Canada to provide medical assistance to severely ill patients who wish to die.

The court decision permits physicians to assist in the suicide of “a competent adult person who clearly consents to the termination of life and has a grievous and irremediable medical condition, including an illness, disease or disability, that causes enduring suffering that is intolerable to the individual in the circumstances of his or her condition.”

The decision reflects a fundamental shift in societal opinions toward end-of-life issues. It is worth noting, at this point, that attitudes toward death, life and intervention have never been static. As medical technologies advanced in recent decades, some (primarily religious) voices argued that these technologies interfere with the will of God by “artificially” extending life. Now, the reverse is apparently true. It tends to be religious voices today arguing that, in some cases, the withdrawal of life-extending technologies and treatments is akin to exercising the prerogatives of the Divine in ending life.

Whatever moral concerns surround this serious issue, an understandable dissonance has affected Canadians’ attitudes: it has been noted that there are times when we force human beings to endure suffering at the end of life beyond what we would permit our pet animals to experience.

Many Canadians who have watched loved ones suffer excruciating and slow illness and deaths recognize that human suffering could be more compassionately ameliorated. Among the first steps should be the provision of the best palliative care available. When absolutely no better option exists, assisted death may be the best choice for some individuals. Most of us can see this. We may wish it weren’t so and, of course, we hope we and our loved ones are never faced with these decisions. The fact is, many of us will.

Yet, every instance in which an individual, their family and doctor make decisions about end-of-life preparations must be entirely individualized. There is absolutely no way that one can apply the same criteria to two cases. Circumstances are not transferable between diseases, patients, families or belief systems. Two people with identical conditions and prognoses may justifiably choose diametrical endings.

Indeed, we must ensure that assisted death does not become a go-to “solution” when alternatives exist, or that any patient feels the slightest pressure to choose it. There is a real danger that some people will weigh decisions not on what is best for themselves but what they perceive as best for others or based on what others in similar situations have done. Not wanting to be a “burden” should not be a legitimate justification for assisted death.

There is genuine and justifiable fear around the potential for a “slippery slope.” It is important to note that this Supreme Court decision deals

with the rights of an individual of sound mind to make a decision on their own in consultation with those they trust to end a life of suffering dominated by unbearable pain and the absence of hope for recovery.

Euthanasia is an entirely different matter. It does not involve an individual’s free and informed choice. The fear is that the acceptance of assisted death will make our society more amenable to – or at least less vigilant against – euthanasia. This is not a consideration to be dismissed. The sanctity of human life is too great to ignore the fact that human beings have the capability of justification for all sorts of things. So, as Canada engages in discussions about this ruling, we should also be vigilant in reasserting our fundamental beliefs that the value of life is not diminished by the legalization of assisted suicide, but rather our humanity and the right of all Canadians to a decent life and a respectful death is part of a worldview that is life-affirming.

Certainly there is nothing happy about this subject, but if this decision makes the end of life more bearable for some Canadians then it should be welcomed. Safeguards are absolutely crucial and, as a society, as families and as individuals, we must discuss and understand the limits and potential misuses of this new freedom.

It is so important that we as a society get this right. The federal government will address this issue in the coming months. The Supreme Court has spoken, as often happens in this country, leading legislators in social progress. It’s our turn now. Canadians should have a long, thoughtful and nuanced discussion on this topic.

The godliness of survival

As the 70th anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz approached last month, discussion turned to the shrinking number of survivors. My father-in-law, Bill Gluck of Vancouver, was one of them, having been deported to Auschwitz from Hungary in 1944, a beautiful boy of 13 with piercing green eyes, a compact frame and a knockout grin. We mentally celebrated his life on that anniversary. But not 24 hours later, his ailing body gave out.

As we began to grieve my father-in-law’s death, I became aware of the delicate dance between remembering Holocaust survivors for the individuals they were, and invoking their identity as survivors.

Esteemed psychoanalyst and child survivor of the Holocaust Anna Ornstein specializes in trauma. Yet even she bristles at being called a “survivor,” telling the Washington Post on Jan. 23, “That’s almost like another crime.” She added, “We were reduced to a race…. This is my name, I had parents who raised me a certain way, and that was not washed away.”

Mourners don’t have the luxury of asking the departed how they wish to be remembered. In any case, we each carry our own points of salience with us when we remember.

At my father-in-law’s funeral and shiva, Bill’s nephew recalled dancing on his uncle’s feet. My husband described the invisible love that had been all around him, like clean air. Bill’s daughter reflected on the heartiness of autumn’s last remaining leaves as she had helped make her father comfortable during his final weeks. And there were his fellow Holocaust survivors, coming to pay respects to a departed member of their own.

Before I met him some 20 years ago, my father-in-law had visited Vancouver schools, telling students his personal story of survival and freedom. For some of the audience, this was their first experience of learning about the Holocaust. One of these students later befriended a young man from Toronto when they studied together at Queen’s University. That young Torontonian would, a few years later, become Bill’s son-in-law.

My stepmom encountered Bill years before I met him, hearing him relay his personal account one evening at Vancouver’s Jewish community centre. I, too, recall reading about Bill’s journey in the pages of the Jewish Western Bulletin (now the Jewish Independent) before meeting his son, who I would go on to marry.

Survivors manage to touch so many, directly and indirectly. Yet, as each one is, my father-in-law was so much more than the sum of those harrowing experiences. Along with his wife, my beloved mother-in-law, Bill built a life of love out of the depths of inhumanity. He lavished a great deal of affection and nurturing on his family, and found his own moments of serenity and solitude as he took up distance sailing around the islands of British Columbia in his later years.

As the rabbi spoke about my father-in-law at the graveside service, he spoke of the godliness that surely ran through him. In young Bill’s harrowing months at Auschwitz, he had found ways to help his fellow inmates. Perhaps most profoundly, Bill had also committed to memory details of instances of kindness amid the horror. Sometimes a certain German guard in the camps would help him – pulling him out of a work line to give him a less strenuous task, placing him on a bicycle during a long march, even giving him his gun to hold. These stories of goodness didn’t die with Bill, for my father-in-law had taken pains to impress these anecdotes upon his children.

Perhaps the godliness of survival is also the godliness of looking for kindness wherever it happens to be, and instilling goodness in the everyday. Bill wanted life to be simple and good; he wanted to find kindness around him, and he hoped others did too.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She blogs at Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. A version of this article was previously published in the Canadian Jewish News.

Let’s talk about security, privacy

Last week, the federal government introduced proposed legislation intended to strengthen anti-terror powers of police, the intelligence service and the military.

The legislation would make it illegal to advocate or promote terrorism, would allow courts to remove terrorist propaganda from the internet, and make it easier for authorities to apprehend suspected terrorists before they act.

Civil libertarians waded in immediately. The British Columbia Civil Liberties Association, which is already engaged in litigation against the federal government over allegations of electronic surveillance without warrants, warned that the legislation would give new powers to security agencies that have “shamefully inadequate oversight and are hostile to accountability.”

The proposed legislation comes on the heels of two terror attacks in Canada last year by apparent lone wolves in Ottawa and Saint-Jean-sur-Richelieu, Que. In its press release announcing the measures, the government pronounced the world “a dangerous place” and reminded us that “Canada is not immune to the threat of terrorism.” Fair enough.

But Canada is also not immune from the threat of government overreach. There is a very critical line and a democracy needs to struggle to find precisely the right balance around these issues. While a terror attack can come out of the blue and kill, threats to individual liberties tend to emerge more slowly and the harm they do is not as immediately clear.

Israel is probably the most illustrative example of a democratic society trying to balance individual rights with protection of civilians from determined terrorists.

The balance that Israel has struggled to find between the rule of law, protection of civilians and the preservation of core civil liberties has been one of the defining and divisive characteristics of Israeli life for decades.

Balancing the physical safety of civilians with the preservation of the freedoms that define that country invigorates a vibrant public discourse, an ongoing, hand-wringing, conscience-challenging debate that carries on with extraordinary passion in a vibrant political ferment.

Among the problems with applying the Israeli model to Canada’s is that, put simply, Canada is not Israel. Canada has had nothing even remotely comparable to the onslaught of terror attacks Israel has endured. Nothing should diminish the grief and determination we felt collectively after the two incidents last year in this country, but neither should we pretend that our society is under imminent threat of sustained, existential violence from ideological forces. That is simply not the case. Proponents of the legislation might say that we need to make sure that things do not get out of hand by getting ahead of it early. Perhaps. But then a wiser solution still would be to work with and support communities where radicalization is taking place, or threatens to take place, and empower the moderates and reformers to identify and help those at risk of succumbing to ideological extremism. There are other approaches as well.

We should not be lulled into any sense of complacency about the sort of world in which we live. But neither should we succumb to hysteria and assume that the sky is falling. Neither should we pretend that this is all white hat/black hat drama. In Canada and, especially, in the United States, in recent months, we have seen those in authority – police – shoot several innocent civilians. And we have plenty of examples of overreach by intelligence and security agencies that seem to view their constitutional limitations as mere suggestions. This may be a time to strengthen laws that protect our civilian populations from terrorists, but citizens should likewise ask when we will see legislation that ensures our civil liberties are as secure as our physical well-being.

Underpinning all of this discussion, though, is a problem far more immediate to Canadians: political polarization. Would it be too much to ask that, on an issue the federal government rhetorically insists is so extraordinarily urgent as protecting Canadians from terrorism, that they might reach across the aisle and work with opposition members, rising above partisanship to develop responses to genuine national security threats?

Imagine if, instead of a government-initiated security bill pushed through by a majority government, we engaged opposition parties and Canadian citizens to discuss and propose a consensus around these issues that balances the demand between our freedoms and our personal and collective security. That would be an exercise in democracy that would truly define the difference between the enemies who seek to destroy us and the values we cherish.

Perhaps it’s too much to expect in an election year.

Stand against extremism

(image from abouddandachi.com)

On Jan. 27, commemorations were held worldwide in remembrance of the Holocaust. Seventy years after the liberation of the Auschwitz concentration camp, these remembrances are as necessary as ever, as evidenced by the past year’s rising tide of antisemitic attacks the world over. And while it may be impossible to stop every terrorist attack everywhere in the world, the manner in which societies and individuals react to such atrocities is just as important as “killing the bad guys.”

A case in point would be the terrorist attack on the French satirical magazine Charlie Hebdo in early January. In the aftermath, a massive two million-strong march was held in the heart of Paris in support of freedom of expression. The phrase #JeSuisCharlie became the most widely used hashtag in Twitter’s history. To meet the increased demand from multitudes of first-time readers seemingly eager on making a statement against extremism, the publication run for the magazine’s Jan. 12 issue was increased from 60,000 copies to three million, and increased again to five million, and, again, to seven million copies.

Marches, Twitter campaigns and a massive surge in readership. Yet, largely relegated to the background was the fact that Jews were specifically targeted during those three terrible days in Paris. Indeed, for months before the Paris terrorist atrocities, Jews in much of Europe had been subjected to a relentless wave of vicious antisemitic attacks. An atmosphere of raw, unchallenged hatred for all things Jewish preceded the events in Paris, and the warning signs were there for anyone who cared to pay attention. When Jews in Denmark trying to hold an event calling for religious coexistence are chased off the streets by “Allahu akbar”-screaming, black-banner-waving thugs, then very soon someone will get it into their head to try to kill Jews in Paris.

Marches, Twitter campaigns and millions of new readers. Momentary, short-term reactions to a very long-term problem, one that has been building up for years. In the wake of such atrocities, it is natural for individuals to feel a strong need to act. And nothing reputes terrorism as effectively as making a stand with its intended targets and victims: by making a stand with the Jewish communities of Europe and the world over.

One effective, long-term method of displaying solidarity with Jewish communities worldwide is to show the same enthusiasm for their publications as the world has displayed for scooping up issues of Charlie Hebdo. To repudiate global extremism, one only needs to act on a very local level.

Salom, the Turkish Jewish weekly tabloid, isn’t exactly an easy publication to find in Istanbul unless you know where to look. But with a circulation of just a few thousand, it has for almost seven decades managed to put out a highly professional and relevant newspaper (far more substantial and better produced than the hopeless Syrian regime mouthpieces Al-Baath or Al-Thawra, even with the resources of the state), and over the years some of Turkey’s most prominent writers and journalists have written for it. Over the years: over the span of no less than 68 years.

A community, any community’s, newspaper is a chronology and journal of the times and events of that community’s history and its place in the world, the events that they were affected by or had an effect on, the opinions, hopes, dreams and fears of that community’s individuals. As a source for a history of the times, websites don’t come close.

And few things strike at the heart of a community’s sense of safety or belonging as attacking or intimidating its publications. For a community to lose its publication would be a devastating blow to its sense of identity, history and continuity within the larger society it inhabits.

And so, when a community is under sustained attack from fringe extremist elements, one of the best long-term demonstrations of solidarity is to adopt that community’s publications. And it was in this spirit that millions of people around the world suddenly felt a compulsion to own a copy of Charlie Hebdo, regardless of their opinions on the merits (or lack thereof) of the paper’s contents over the years. In the aftermath of a terrorist event, ordinary people are driven to respond with an act that loudly and clearly expresses their rejection of and revulsion at the attack.

Marches are all very well and good, but it is highly unlikely that the scale of the January Paris march will ever be repeated for years to come. Twitter hashtags? Very fleeting and very much of the moment. A long-term response is necessary to support a community under long-term threat.

And, while Jews in one’s local community may not face the same level of violence and intimidation as Jews in other parts of the world, the nature of global antisemitism is such that Jews anywhere can, at anytime, become targets from any source, no matter how distant or remote the threat may seem, as evidenced, to take a recent example, by the Hezbollah terrorist organization’s threats to strike Jews anywhere in the world in retaliation for its recent high-level losses in Syria.

Not everyone can be a Lassana Bathily, the Mali-born employee of the Hyper Cacher, the targeted Paris kosher supermarket, who saved countless lives by hiding customers during the attack. Individuals can still achieve a great deal by standing with those whom extremists would target, however. Heaven forbid that anyone should ever suffer a terrorist attack ever again, but let’s not wait until after an atrocity to express “Je suis (insert latest victims here).” Society’s embrace and acceptance of its minorities are the surest shield and protection against opportunistic acts of hate against those minorities. Terrorism thrives in an atmosphere and environment of unchallenged and unchecked hatred.

Holocaust commemorations are held just once a year, and by the time a society feels compelled to respond to atrocities in its midst with million-person marches, it is probably too late, extremism has already dug its roots deep into that society. Extremism is more effectively fought on the individual level, with small, daily acts of kindness towards those that may be vulnerable, and the ostracizing of those groups and individuals who are hateful in their speech and behavior (I’m looking at you George Galloway, you shameful carpetbagger). Global extremism is most effectively fought by very local acts of consideration.

In this day and age, fighting extremism can be as simple as buying a newspaper. Salom.

Aboud Dandachi is a Syrian blogger based in Turkey. He has been cited on issues relating to the Syrian conflict on the BBC, NPR, the Los Angeles Times, the Guardian, Al-Arabiya and Turkiye Gazetesi. This article originally appeared on his blog From Homs to Istanbul, which can be found at abouddandachi.com. It is reprinted with permission.

Bibi, Obama: Grow up

Iran’s propaganda machine Press TV on Monday reported that U.S. President Barack Obama had “unfriended” Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu on Facebook.

Predictably, it turned out the report was a hoax. Iran’s humorless propagandists reported as fact a joke from an Israeli satire site. And yet, despite the big journalistic oops (as if they care), the Iranian voice box made a legitimate point. The two men, ostensibly leading figures in world diplomacy, have in recent weeks been behaving like sulky teenagers.

Netanyahu unwisely accepted an invitation from the speaker of the U.S. House of Representatives, John Boehner, to address Congress, specifically to pressure the Americans to increase sanctions on Iran. The fact that this visit would take place at the height of the Israeli election campaign has been criticized by some, with others noting that former president Bill Clinton hosted Shimon Peres during an election cycle. The fact that the invitation came from the speaker of the house, rather than from the president, whose responsibilities include being the country’s foremost voice on foreign affairs – and its head of state and commander in chief – is a significant protocol breech, but a deliberate one.

We are becoming almost inured to successive hyperbolic assertions that bilateral relations between the United States and Israel are at their lowest ebb. But this time, it seems true, although a result of such foolishness that it seems almost comical, as well as tragic. These two men, whose seeming dislike for each other they are not even mature enough to hide or deny, are submerging the best interests of the relationship, shootings spitballs at each another across the divide.

Critics of Obama’s motivations allege that he does not pass the “kishkes” question; that his commitment to Israel’s security, such as it may be, is based a political imperatives or strategic demands, rather than a personal commitment to the idea of the Jewish state. To many others, these criticisms don’t hold water.

But what of Netanyahu? What on earth is he thinking, deliberately provoking his country’s most important international ally by inserting himself squarely into a constitutional tight spot, pitting the executive and legislative branches of the U.S. government against each other? Especially when Israel’s own intelligence service, the Mossad, has made clear that it is in Israel’s interest to allow negotiations with Iran to proceed, rather than to undermine them with additional immediate sanctions.

We are driven to ask, does Netanyahu know something we don’t? Does he know something the Mossad does not? Or is he driven merely by the hawkish demands of his domestic political constituency?

And why does he think that picking a fight – a very public, nasty and juvenile fight – with the president who was reelected with the support of 70 percent of American Jewish voters, would be a wise strategic or ideological move?

Greater minds can dissect the realpolitik motivations of these two strong figures. Wise figures in the think tanks of Washington and Tel Aviv are dissecting the nuance and nonsense the two leaders have displayed recently.

From where we sit, however, their behavior simply looks like they are putting their immature dislike for each other as individuals ahead of the interests of their countries. And, there is Speaker Boehner, ready to take political advantage.

Barrels of ink are being spilled this week on this topic, with the best minds of our generation advising both these men how to proceed. Our advice is simple, but it should be said: Just grow up.