Opinion – Page 94

Does God love dogs and cats?

As a boy growing up in the foothills of Berkeley, my parents encouraged me to have pets. From guinea pigs to parakeets to even a pet chicken named Fwedwika, my home was full of little critters throughout most of my childhood. By encouraging me to be a caretaker for my pets, my parents taught me the meaning of responsibility, consistency and perhaps even love. So, I’ve often wondered if the Jewish religious scriptures supports animal activism and what exactly God would say if I posed the question, “Do You love dogs?”

Dogs are the only animals in the Torah that receive a reward for their actions. When the Jewish slaves flee Egypt, it states, “not one dog barked.” (Exodus 11:7) As a reward for that refrain, God said, “… and flesh torn in the field you shall not eat; you shall throw it to the dog[s].” (Exodus 22:30; Mechilta) However, God’s affection for animals doesn’t end with affable companions such as dogs. This affection even extends to insects. King David had to learn this lesson when he questioned the purpose of such “vile creatures” as spiders. Subsequently, God created an event whereupon a spider’s web saved his life, thereby impressing upon Judaism’s mightiest king that every creature has purpose (Midrash Alpha Beta Acheres d’Ben Sira 9).

The Talmud teaches that the reason the Almighty created animals before humans on the sixth day of creation was to teach humans humility, so much that “even a lowly gnat” may be more deserving of life (Sanhedrin 38a).

So, one may infer from here that God does indeed love dogs … and all the rest of His creatures, too. But does this manifest itself into practical animal activism or does it remain a more generalized and undefined value in Judaism?

Jewish law is replete with requirements for the caring of animals. Examples include laws prohibiting inflicting pain on animals (Kesef Mishneh, Hilkhot Rotzeah 13:9), requiring one to feed animals in a loving manner (Igg’rot Moshe, Even haEzer 4:92) and protecting animals from being overworked (Hoshen Mishpat 307:13). We see from these and more, the extensive lengths to which the Torah goes in order to ensure the proper care of animals. Even when one must slaughter an animal to feed one’s family, there are numerous Jewish laws set in place to guarantee that the animal’s death is quick and painless (Guide to the Perplexed III:48).

One insight we can glean from the Torah about why God may have made animals is that they were created to express the “glory of the Creator.” (Pirkei Avos 6:11) The sheer diversity and beauty of animals leads one to appreciate the Creator even more, thereby leading one to proclaim, “How great is Your work, O Lord.” (Psalm 92:5) One might also say that the Creator has placed us, the descendants of Adam and Eve, in His beautiful garden to be the “caretaker” of “God’s garden” and all the animals therein (Genesis 2:19-20).

Mankind is created last in the days of Creation because humans are the pinnacle of Creation; we are the beings created in God’s image (Genesis 1:27). When we use our free will responsibly, acting with compassion and sensitivity, we become like God, as it says, “Just as He is compassionate, so should you be compassionate. Just as He is righteous, so should you be righteous.” (Midrash Sifre Deuteronomy 49) When we develop ourselves to be spiritually refined, we fully realize the title of “caretakers of the world,” of God’s beautiful world and all the animals in it.

Imagine what message it sends a child when parents teach that God wants all our animals to be fed before we feed ourselves (Talmud, Brachot 40a). Imagine what message it sends our child when parents teach that God watches us to see if we are being compassionate to the animals in our midst (Talmud, Bava Metzia 85a). And imagine what message we bequeath to our children when we say that to become truly righteous and spiritually fulfilled, we must cultivate a sensitivity towards animals, as it says “A righteous person knows the needs of the animal.” (Proverbs 12:10)

Perhaps this is why God specifically made Noah build an ark to save all the animals during the Flood. After all, God could have easily made a miracle where the animals were saved without Noah needing to slave away for 40 days and nights meticulously tending to the care of each animal in the ark and even sharing his own table with them (Malbim, Genesis 6:21). One could answer that this was precisely to highlight that the concept of being the “caretakers of the garden” didn’t end with Adam and Eve but is an essential responsibility of mankind for all time.

Additionally, one can also say that the way we treat animals is a reflection of the way we treat people. In the Torah, we observe the repeating story of how a loving shepherd is chosen by God to lead the spiritual flock of the Jewish people after previously demonstrating his dedication to a flock of sheep (Midrash, Shemot Rabah 2:2). A barometer for one’s sensitivity towards other people can be seen in how we treat the animals in our midst. This emphasis on caring for animals can be a way to further those feelings of sensitivity that may eventually lead to goodwill for all mankind.

There is a final fascinating perspective that the Torah is teaching us. Animals can serve as our teachers. There are God-given qualities inherent in the instinctual habits and mannerisms of the animals around us that can serve to inspire humans to achieve greater heights of spiritual fulfilment. For example, the very first law in the Code of Jewish Laws is, “Rabbi Yehuda ben Taima said, ‘Be as bold as a leopard, light as an eagle, swift as a deer and strong as a lion to do the will of your Father in Heaven.’” (Avot 5:20) Poignantly, this is placed as the first law in a book of Jewish legalities. This idea is most evident in the statement of Rabbi Yochanan: “If the Torah had not been given, we could have learned modesty from the cat, honesty from the ant, chastity from the dove and good manners from the rooster.” (Talmud, Eiruvin 100b) Perhaps we could also learn from a dog the power of devotion, loyalty and even having a positive attitude.

I will conclude with a teaching about man’s best friend, the dog. The notable 16th-century Jewish leader, the Maharsha, says that a dog is a creature of love. Hence, the Hebrew name for a dog is kelev, which is etymologically derived from the words kulo lev, or all heart (Rabbi Shmuel Eidels, Chidushei Aggadot, Sanhedrin 97a). Remember that Adam and Eve were instructed by God to give all the animals of the world their Hebrew names (Genesis 2:19-20). When they made this personal connection with the beasts of the world, the names they chose were prophetically accurate so as to encapsulate the essence of each animal into a name that truly revealed its soul (Bereishit Rabbah 17:4). Thus, one may extrapolate from this that the Hebrew name for a dog was precisely chosen to be indicative of the loving soul of this marvelous creature.

So, yes, God loves dogs. And we should, too.

Rabbi Levi Welton is a writer and educator raised in Berkeley, Calif. A member of the Rabbinical Council of America, he graduated from the Machon Ariel Rabbinical Institute in 2005 and from Bellevue University in 2008 with an MA in education. Having served Jewish communities in San Francisco, Sydney and Montreal, he currently resides in New York and specializes in working with youth and young adults. This article was originally published by Aish Hatorah Resources and is distributed by Kaddish Connection Network.

Our diasporic connections

Consider an unbearable rift forced between a human being and his/her native place; between the self and the true home. Its essential sadness can never be surmounted.

If you were born in this country, you are not an exile – all the rest of us not born in Canada are, in one way or another. Whether we were exiled or left of our own volition, we are all diasporic, we all live in galut, we all know the strings, the tugs, the connections with our past: parents, forebears, birth place, culture, that which is so much, or was, part of every fibre of our being.

Think of when you are traveling and you bump into someone from Canada, Vancouver, Montreal, Scotland, India, anywhere, and immediately you discover what we call in Hindi a jhath bhai, someone who knows what you are talking about, with whom less explanation is necessary, and who could probably finish your sentences for you. A lantsman maybe?

Moonbeams are not tangible; you cannot stretch out your hand and touch them. These moonbeams, however, are human connections, family, culture, food, little idiosyncrasies and expressions we understand without further explanation on our part. And we miss these tremendously, in our inner core.

I meet taxi drivers, HandyDART drivers, people born and raised in India, and soon we are off and running in so many directions after discovering we come from the same country. On a scholarship in Montreal some 30 years ago, I was hitchhiking a ride one evening up University Avenue back to residence. A taxi driver stopped to pick me up – I kid you not! Before we reached the top of the hill, he had told me his name (which is also my maiden name in Arabic), that he was from Iran (where my father’s parents came from) and, in no time, we had shared so much and made so many connections.

My connections are varied and many, for which I feel truly blessed: Jewish (whether Ashkanazi or Sephardi), Indian, Israeli, Middle Eastern, British (well, I say, sod the lot of you chaps!).

And so it goes. In this manner, we also feel rich in connections. Imagine strings being tied from you to others with whom you have longtime and deep connections, not because you know them personally but because your well of memories might be the same. It is from these wells that you draw the richness of commonality, that make you feel you are part of such treasures, a history of which you can now share – even if only for a few minutes as you stand in line waiting to pay for your bag of bananas.

And why are these connections more real than moonbeams?

Seemah C. Berson, author of I Have a Story to Tell You (Wilfred Laurier University Press, 2010), is a freelance writer and occasional dabbler in art, children’s poems and stories.

Nature knows no borders

Traveled thousands of miles

Inching my way

Between mothers, children, prayer books

Vying for space, so that I may touch

Your precious stones

Stones that have heard millions of tears

Stones that hold hope and anguish

Weeping and praying surround me

And I cannot hear my own sigh as I ask

Will you negotiate?

I plead

as I fold my scrap of paper

Tiptoeing upwards

to search for

a vacant space I ask

like so many before me

Can you make a miracle?

– Jerusalem 2013

Dawn has just broken. I’m walking along the beach, inhaling whiffs of sea spray. White Rock’s lights are fading in the distance, and ocean and skies are turning blue together against the backdrop of a glowing sunrise.

The hotel manager told me that if I rose early I would catch all of nature’s beauties. I’m not disappointed. Harbor seals are out fishing, birds of all shapes and sizes have begun their morning songs and skim the ocean for breakfast. A mother porpoise and her baby are playing, and fishing boats are gliding smoothly over the waves.

The only sounds are the whistling of crickets, high-pitched cries of seagulls and the rhythmic hiss of the surf. Once in a while, my laptop informs me of a new message but, fortunately, nature wins. I have the discipline to ignore it; nature wins.

This little corner of the world spells P-E-A-C-E.

The hotel has changed hands many times in the 30 years I’ve been coming here. Every visit has been different, with a purposeful or personal story.

Nature, though, is always consistent. Out in the natural world, I receive solace and my writer’s block dissolves, at least 99 percent of the time. This year, writing about peace feels like the one percent block. And an impossible task begs a purposeful visit.

The scenery is breathtaking, except for the tall unsightly steel object placed in the middle of water, a physical manifestation of the boundary between countries. I note that the boats are sailing to either side of the eyesore.

In the natural world, the skies and seas are open for birds and other creatures. No passports or border patrols needed. I am reminded of a 2012 BBC travel article, titled “Where birds know no borders.”

“Unrestricted movement between Israel and the Palestinian territories is not always possible for those on two feet,” the article reads. “But if you shift your gaze upwards, something entirely different comes into focus.”

A migration of a billion birds belonging to more than 540 species traverses through the skies each autumn and spring. Both governments have set up centres for avid birders who come from all over the world to see this spectacular sight.

Could this be a miracle, like the one I asked for last year at the Wall?

As I move my gaze away from the metal border structure and back to reality, I wonder if nature, prayer, music and dance can help us engage and connect with the world.

Can we create more connected global communities? Can we uncover commonalities that reduce conflicts? Can we build more peaceful nations? Miracles happen daily in nature. Look no further than the dove.

– Blaine, Wash., 2014

Jenny Wright is a writer, music therapist, children’s musician and recording artist.

Model response to injustice

Seventy-two years ago yesterday, two Polish women, Zofia Kossak and Wanda Filipowicz, founded the Council for the Assistance of the Jews. By 1942, awareness of the intent of the Final Solution was becoming widespread. By creating an underground movement to assist and shelter Jews in Nazi-occupied Poland, these women and all who assisted them put their own lives at immense risk.

Throughout the Second World War, countless individuals, at great risk to themselves and their families, undertook to assist their Jewish neighbors. These included Christians in every part of Europe and also Muslims, notably in Albania.

There are, of course, plenty of stories of collusion, betrayal and collaboration. There are, we remind our children, good and bad behaviors among any group of people, but the redemptive stories of people doing the right thing help restore humanity to our collective self-understanding.

Today, Jewish people still face challenges in various parts of the world. By sheer numbers, however, the vast majority of Jews live in Israel and North America, where life is free of the systemic bigotry Jewish people experienced in much of the world through much of history. Especially now, from our place of relative security and privilege, we should be turning our attention to the atrocities playing out against other minorities around the world.

In the world today, Christians are being persecuted and murdered in Africa and Asia. In North Korea, an estimated 50,000-70,000 Christians are held in the country’s notorious labor camps. In Nigeria last year, more than 300 churches were destroyed and more than 600 Christians killed; and mosques are being targeted with deadly attacks against clerics who speak out against the Islamist group Boko Haram, as happened – again, tragically – earlier this week. In Yemen and elsewhere in the Muslim world, those who convert to Christianity face the death penalty. In China, government forces oppress Uyghur Muslims in the west of the country. In Cambodia, members of the Buddhist majority have been attacking the Muslim minority. And, in India, systematic violence against Muslims is widespread. The list goes on and on – and this list only includes instances of persecution against Muslims and Christians; there are many other populations around the world under threat of discrimination, persecution and brutality.

The Jewish value of adam yachid, a single human being, means that humankind descended from one individual so that no one can say, “My father is greater than your father.” As Jews, but more especially as people who enjoy the freedom to express ourselves without fear of retribution from government or mob, we have an obligation to speak out on behalf of those who cannot. This is something we should do not because others did it when we were oppressed, but because their actions are the model of the human(e) response to injustice.

What can we do? In small and large ways, we can inform ourselves and our circles of influence about the issues facing minority communities worldwide. There are plenty of organizations working quietly on these topics. Consider supporting one. Inform yourself on events in other parts of the world that affect specific populations. When elected officials – and those who hope to become elected officials – knock on our doors in the federal election next year, we should let them know that the issues that are important to us go beyond those that impact our immediate lives.

The tent is getting smaller

Amid what had been a steady stream of volunteer commitments I had undertaken in the Jewish community, it seems I now have some more free time. I could be pleased by the fact that I am freed from a major board commitment, but I’m not. Because something’s rotten in the state of Diaspora Jewish communal discourse.

Let’s back up. After seven years of dedicated service on the board of a large Jewish organization here in Ottawa, where I helped initiate policies around ecological sustainability, reform the board’s governance and procedures, work on LGBTQ inclusion, and reformulate our mission statement to better reflect the organization’s values, I found myself having risen through the ranks of the board’s executive to the position of vice-chair. All this along with teaching adult education classes at the institution, creating an innovative women’s athletic program there and being a regular user, along with my family, of a variety of programs and services. Normal board succession procedures imply that I would be next in line for chair – a position I had made plain to those in charge that I was willing to take on.

But rumblings over the past half-year suggested that I was potentially radioactive in the minds of some donors. Why? Because of my writings on the subject of Israel. In short, the board’s selection committee made clear that they’d be better off without me.

Readers of my columns know that while I am frequently critical of Israeli policies around the occupation and other anti-democratic moves afoot in Israel, I am squarely in the camp of liberal Zionism. This means that, in addition to criticizing the occupation and pressing Israel to make the necessary conditions to engage in a meaningful peace process, I oppose full-out boycott of Israel leading to the undermining of its core identity as a Jewish state. I have publicly debated anti-Zionists and non-Zionists – both in person and in print – on these issues, and I regularly tout the importance of Israel engagement and Jewish and Hebrew literacy. These are all ideas that I also put forth both in my columns in local Canadian Jewish papers and in international media, in Haaretz, the Forward and, before that, in Open Zion at the Daily Beast. Still, it seems that when it comes to positions of community leadership, none of this is enough to establish one’s loyalty to a tent that is rapidly shrinking.

We’ve heard this all before, of course. Witness the stonewalling reaction Peter Beinart received by the Toronto-based Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs when his organizers tried to get him an audience with Hillel on campus during his three-city Canadian tour a couple of years ago. And then there’s the canceling of David Harris-Gershon’s talk at the Jewish community centre in Washington, D.C., earlier this year.

It’s by now a truism that the breadth of policy debate among Israelis themselves far outsizes what is evidently permitted within the Diaspora Jewish community. But then, neither do Israeli Jews have to actively work to inculcate Jewish identity, as I frequently have in my writings, including promoting Jewish education, pushing for the active use of Hebrew, examining the value of synagogue affiliation, defending Jewish and Zionist summer camping experiences and, yes, insisting on the value of a Diaspora connection to Israel.

So, I’m left to ask this: what is it, ultimately, that we, as Jewish community volunteers and activists, are being asked to be loyal to? Are we being asked to promote Jewish community vitality, wrestle with ideas around Israeli politics and policies, encourage Jewish literacy, and consider realities that preserve Israel’s Jewish and democratic character? Or are we being asked to simply support the endless occupation just as we see Israel’s democratic character crumbling before our very eyes, as the country becomes more and more of a pariah state? I think I know the answer. But how I wish it weren’t so.

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 originally published on haartez.com.

When Men Talk …

To the women reading this post, brace yourself for the following comment: It’s not easy being a man!

Take a minute. OK. Breathe. Sit back down. And we can continue.

The North American male lives under a lot of pressure with high expectations when it comes to their role in relationships, an assumed level of strength, decisive behavior and success.

Yes, it’s true! Stop laughing!

The truth is, there isn’t a whole lot of time or space for sensitivity, vulnerability or exploration of feelings when it comes to thriving as a man in our society. That’s where ManTalks, a new Vancouver-based, community-themed speaker series, steps in.

Developed by Connor Beaton, a sales/operations manager for Apple, ManTalks came to be after Beaton’s own personal “rock-bottom” had him bounce back, looking for more truth and support in his life.

Once a world-traveling opera singer, Beaton walked away from the stage to pursue other interests and his life was set adrift, leading to some tough decision making.

“I had made some really poor choices in my relationship and had lied and cheated on the woman I was with at the time,” he explained. “Instead of coming clean I tried to keep lying.

“The problem was,” he continued, “I had been lying to my friends, family and myself about what was happening in my life. I wasn’t living the life I wanted, but I had convinced myself and everyone around me that my life was amazing. I had convinced everyone that I had an amazing career, an amazing partner, had money in the bank and was on the path to huge success. But it was all a lie.”

Beaton went on to explain how he realized he’d lost track of who he was, digging a hole deeper than he could pull himself out of. He eventually made a conscious decision to promise himself two things: “First, I would speak my truth and live it,” he said. “Second, I would make sure that other men didn’t have to face their challenges and darkest moments alone.”

The goal of ManTalks is to create the largest resource “for men looking to live a powerful, authentic and honest life, contributing to the success of others.”

A few ManTalks sessions have already taken place, with participation from more than 100 men and women (pretty sure the women were there on a recon mission). The last one, earlier this month, was focused on fitness, body image and work/life balance. It featured three speakers with different perspectives or stories about how they conquered some extremely vulnerable moments in their own lives, while audience members shared with each other as well.

Starting in January, ManTalks will take place once a month, each with different themes. January will be themed Wealth Mindset, February will be What Women Want (featuring all female speakers), March will be Spirituality, April will be Fatherhood and May will be Masculinity. More info on Mantalks can be found at www.mantalks.ca

Beaton will also be speaking at the upcoming Recharge Conference taking place at the JCC, January 11. www.sparkenergizeempower.com

“Jewish state bill” should be nixed

A proposed “Jewish state bill” may be up for a Knesset vote next week. An amalgamation of previous drafts, the bill would, among other things, enshrine in Basic Law Israel’s Jewish identity, reserve the right of national self-determination to Jews only, institutionalize Jewish law as the basis for Israeli law, and de-list Arabic as an official language, relegating it to “special status.”

Passed by a 14-6 majority of cabinet ministers on Sunday, the bill – which includes some 14 principles – still requires Knesset approval. With Yesh Atid and Hatnua threatening to leave the coalition government in reaction to the proposal, the Knesset vote was postponed until the middle of next week, at least.

“The vote set off a stormy cabinet session in which two of his most centrist coalition partners voted against the proposed bill and voiced fierce opposition, claiming that at this sensitive juncture it would likely just escalate tensions,” reported CBC.

President Reuven Rivlin is against the bill, saying it undermines the country’s Jewish character and calls into question the success of Zionism. Attorney General Yehuda Weinstein also has come out against the bill, writing a legal opinion that was published in Hebrew on Walla, indicating, according to various news reports, that the planned proposal features “significant changes in the founding principles of constitutional law as anchored in the Declaration of Independence and in the basic laws of the Knesset, which can flatten the democratic character of the state.”

Despite these and many other criticisms and concerns expressed within Israel by Israelis, Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu has said he is determined to pass the bill, “with or without consensus.” He confusingly added, “I don’t know a country that is more democratic, or a more vibrant democracy than Israel in the world, certainly not in our region.” Yet this point of pride would no longer exist if the bill passed.

Outside of the country, the United States State Department cautioned that Israel should “stick to its democratic principles.” This warning was roundly rejected by Jewish Home party MK and Economic Minister Naftali Bennett, who reportedly said, “We will manage the affairs of the state of Israel. We have to deal with the ramifications of what sort of state we want. In the end, this is our problem, an internal problem, and I don’t think anyone has the right to wade into it.”

Just what kind of state this bill is proposing is not clear. Not to wade into it too deeply but we find ourselves agreeing with the U.S. State Department and the Anti-Defamation League’s Abe Foxman, who made a statement about how “well-meaning” (we’re not sure about that) and “unnecessary” the bill is, the latter being an opinion expressed by many of those that lean to the right in Israel. We even find ourselves agreeing, at first blush, with those on the left in Israel who are calling the bill racist.

In his Nov. 25 Haaretz column, Bradley Burston writes, “Listen to the words of Mahmoud Seif, uncle of sergeant-major Zidan Nahad Seif, the Druze Arab Israeli policeman slain … as he fought to stop the terrorist murder of Jews at prayer in a Jerusalem synagogue…. ‘The “nation-state law,” is saying, in other words: “Only the Jews should remain here.”’

“‘What about the Druze? What about the many, many Arabs who are loyal to the country?’ he asked on Army Radio this week.

“‘What are they going to do now? This is a law for Jews only.’”

Twenty percent of Israel’s population – one in five – is not Jewish.

All logic, all compassion, all pragmatism – everything! – cries out against this bill. Please, Knesset, vote it down.

Are we Bolsheviks?

Israel’s Knesset gave preliminary approval to a bill that would make it illegal to distribute free newspapers. On the face, it seems an odd move. Why prevent the (literally) free circulation of ideas? On principle, it is worse. Democratic governments should not be getting involved in who can print news and how much they must charge to distribute it.

A nearly identical bill was defeated in 2010, and the target of both bills is Israel Hayom, a free-distribution newspaper that is owned by Sheldon Adelson, the mega-rich American casino owner and right-wing funder. Israel Hayom has shaken up Israel’s media and political scene, recently becoming the country’s most-read (or, at the very least, most-printed) newspaper. Critics see the paper as a shill for Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu and causes associated with the political right.

The Labor party MK who initiated the bill puts it another way.

“This is a bill in favor of pluralism and multiple opinions,” said Eitan Cabel, according to JTA. “It is a battle so that, in a few years, we do not become a country with only one newspaper. Sheldon Adelson wants to bury a market that is fighting for its life. Israel Hayom does not exist because of its success as a newspaper but because of the hundreds of millions in gambling funds that are funneled to it from overseas. Does anyone in this room honestly think that this is how a model for a normal newspaper looks? That this is how fair competition looks?” He assured the public, Israel Hayom “will continue to be published after the law comes into effect, and can even be sold for a symbolic price.”

He is certainly correct that print media is fighting for its life, and he is likewise correct in his implication that print media plays a crucial role in the diversity of ideas and information. But he is wrong to condemn the business model Adelson has employed. For one thing, in an ostensibly free market (society), the government should not be making arbitrary judgments about how a business funds its operations, even when that business is one as vital as the news industry, whose freedom is integral to the health of democracy.

The recent bill “would ban distribution of a free daily newspaper that is published six days a week and has at least 30 pages on weekdays and 100 pages in its weekend edition. The bill allows free distribution only for six months.” According to the Jerusalem Post, the text of the bill claims it seeks to “strengthen written journalism in Israel and ensure equal and fair conditions of competition between newspapers,” but the bill is impotent, its rules easy to circumvent. Even if they weren’t, the drowning out of voices is not the way to increase competition and free speech.

There are many threats to traditional newspapers – the internet chief among them and, if that hasn’t bled print dry yet, then neither will Israel Hayom.

A robust democracy requires a chorus of competing ideas and free-flowing public discourse – and not just for the sake of freedom. It is only on such a path that we can hope to find solutions to the problems we face, from poverty and illness to what form our news media takes.

Likud MK Moshe Feiglin probably summed it up most succinctly. “What is this?” he asked. “Since when do parliaments close newspapers? Are we Bolsheviks?”

It is heartening to see that, according to the Jewish Press, 77 percent of Israelis oppose the bill. Banning newspapers is not the way to save newspapers. Let’s hope that after the second or third reading, this bill ends up in the Knesset’s recycling bin.

The Klinghoffer controversy

Even if you’re not a fan of opera, you may have heard about the worldwide dust-up over the recent staging by the New York Metropolitan Opera of The Death of Klinghoffer by John Adams, an eminent American composer. (The opera closed Nov. 15.)

The opera is based on the 1985 hijacking of a Mediterranean cruise ship, the Achille Lauro, by Palestinian terrorists demanding the release of their allies from Israeli jails. Tragically, one of the passengers, a retired Jewish American named Leon Klinghoffer, was murdered and tossed overboard, along with his wheelchair.

Since its debut in 1991, the opera has aroused condemnation by some who claim that the opera merely glorifies antisemitism and Palestinian terrorism. On Oct. 20, a few hundred people protested outside the Met, led by politicians such as Rudy Giuliani, a former New York mayor. One Jewish leader spoke of protesting “until the set is burned to the ground.” Under censorship pressure, performances of The Death of Klinghoffer have been relatively rare since 1991, and the Met decided to cancel its usual cinecast to movie theatres.

The Klinghoffers’ daughters continue to condemn the opera, as they believe it “rationalizes, romanticizes and legitimizes the terrorist murder of our father…. Terrorism cannot be rationalized. It cannot be understood.”

What’s the cause of the condemnation? The opera begins with a chorus of exiled Palestinians that acknowledges the forcible eviction of Palestinian Arabs in 1948: “Of that house not a wall was left to stand / Israel laid all to waste.” (This is followed, though, by a chorus of exiled Jews, which acknowledges Jewish suffering in the Holocaust, and the great sense of hope accompanying a return to the Holy Land.) Later, one of the hijackers briefly mouths antisemitic comments about Jews getting fat off poor people, and criticizes both British and American society: “America is one big Jew.”

However, Adams’ opera (with a libretto by Alice Goodman, who was raised a Reform Jew) has been widely hailed as a fine work of art. For example, on Oct. 21, Anthony Tommasini, the respected New York Times music reviewer, called Adams’ opera “a searching, spiritual and humane work.”

… those who consider this opera as an opinion-editorial or a speech are missing the point of a work of art that has despair, solitude and love at its core….

I am in sympathy with Tommasini. I’ve carefully watched the London Symphony Orchestra production on DVD, winner of the Prix Italia, and found the opera to be powerful, spiritual, lyric – and not a screed against Jews or Israel. There’s an attempt at balance in recalling the background of the conflict that on the whole succeeds, and a rather profound exploration of the roots of a common sense of exile, despair and misery in the Mideast. Adams himself has noted that the “situation … is much too complex to fall into one easy answer or another.” In any case, those who consider this opera as an opinion-editorial or a speech are missing the point of a work of art that has despair, solitude and love at its core – like most operas, “a song of love and death,” in the words of Peter Conrad, an opera scholar.

It seems to me there are three key points, above and beyond the obvious one that censorship of art is virtually always wrong, and is a familiar tactic of totalitarian states.

First, the opera does not romanticize or legitimize the hijackers. While there are some fleeting complexities attributed to one or two of them, which is to the credit of the work, they are portrayed as brutal, hysterical thugs on the boat – “punks” as Mrs. Klinghoffer calls them. When the ship’s captain suggests to the most articulate hijacker that he speak to his enemies of his misery, the hijacker demurs and posits death as the only outcome. Palestinian activists assault and pour acid on the face of a young Arab woman who is deemed too Western.

Certainly, the boat’s bystanders are not the mortal core. One Swiss grandmother with her grandson in tow comments with satisfaction, “At least we are not Jews.”

Actually, the moral core of the opera – the heroes, if one can use that term – is the Klinghoffers. Leon delivers a brave, outspoken speech against terrorism to one of the hijackers, condemning those who would throw gasoline around a loaded bus and burn it. His wife’s eloquent lament that ends the opera is a tribute to the love and resistance to evil of ordinary people.

Second, as with other art works, the portrayal of a character’s attitudes, declarations or motivations is not an endorsement of these. In Ulysses by James Joyce, for example, a repugnant Irish nationalist is given outrageous lines against Jews, but Joyce obviously meant these words to express his disgust with such bigotry. Joyce’s Jew Leopold Bloom rather abashedly follows with his condemnation of hate and injustice.

Third, the idea that “terrorism … cannot be understood” leaves me uneasy. For example, to analyze and to understand Nazism is not to condone or accept it. Our understanding of bigotry and evil has come a long way since the early 1960s with the thousands of works by scholars on Nazism and the Holocaust. In the words of two Holocaust scholars, “We must look into the abyss to look beyond it” (Robert Lifton); “Explaining is not excusing; understanding is not forgiving” (Christopher Browning). If people come away from the opera with insights into what Adams calls the complexities, all the better.

In the end, the opera shows us that in a sense we are all in the same boat, whether it be the Achille Lauro or a larger craft. We share a pervasive sense of isolation, exile and despair that perhaps can be mitigated by the humble love of which Mrs. Klinghoffer sings.

Goodman’s libretto includes the point that “Islamic fundamentalism flourishes in a climate of despair.” She has the captain of the ship observe the “comprehensive solitude” of the characters on the boat. “Evil grows exponentially…. Violence speaks a single long sentence inflicted and endured in hell by those who have despaired.” Given the two solitudes, sadly, there’s more than enough despair to go around among the many peoples of the Middle East.

Gene Homel teaches liberal studies at the B.C. Institute of Technology, including a course on the Holocaust. He holds a PhD from the University of Toronto, and has published numerous articles on history, politics and culture.

Misdirecting attention

U.S. President Barack Obama has sent a letter to the Ayatollah Ali Khamenei requesting Iran’s support in the battle against ISIS. At a time when Israel’s relationship with the American administration is strained, the letter (which was apparently sent back in October and whose existence was recently reported by the Wall Street Journal) has sparked a great deal of reaction.

Stopping the Islamic State is and should be a global priority, but the softening of attitudes toward Iran’s regime is a concern. While there appears to be some progress in talks on Iran’s nuclear program – negotiations that are rapidly approaching a Nov. 24 deadline for an agreement – the hatred directed at Israel is as vibrant as ever. Just days ago, Khamenei tweeted an infographic titled “9 Key Questions About Elimination of Israel.”

The graphic design is better than the English grammar, but the message is unmistakable. No less than ever – and regardless of what we may read suggesting schisms in the highest reaches of the regime – the top leader is as committed as he ever was to the annihilation of Israel.

While insisting that, “of course, the elimination of Israel does not mean the massacre of Jewish people in the region,” the emphatic message is, put mildly, unwelcoming. Still, the world seems convinced that it’s a bluff. To see events at the United Nations, one would think it was Israel that was threatening to obliterate another member-state. Commentators dismiss destructive rhetoric like Khamenei’s as propaganda for domestic consumption, but most Jews, and anyone with a sense of history, take seriously threats like this at any time, but particularly in the week that we commemorate both the 76th anniversary of Kristallnacht and Remembrance Day.

Meanwhile, U.S. Secretary of State John Kerry insists any Iran overture is unrelated to the broader issues of the Middle East, as if the interconnected web of intrigues, hatreds and alliances could be unraveled from one another. And then, as if there are not enough issues in the world with which to be concerned, European states are lining up to recognize the “state of Palestine.” These legally meaningless but symbolic votes by Britain and Sweden, with more legislatures intending to follow suit, are meant to force negotiations toward a two-state solution, with an underlying assumption that Israel is to blame for the lack of progress. All the incitement to violence by Palestinian leaders and the recent upsurge in vehicular murders and stabbings of Israelis are blamed on the Israelis themselves, who must somehow deserve what they get.

Often, commentators, including Kerry recently, state that resolving the Israeli-Palestinian conflict is the lynchpin to resolving the broader conflict in the region. By obsessing about Israel, the UN, European powers and others are wasting their energies on a sideshow while the feature presentations get short shrift.