Diaspora

Significance of the holiday table

While the symbolism of dipping apples in honey for a sweet new year is well-known, many other foods have added meaning at this time of year, too. (photo from pxhere.com)

To prepare for the most holy days of the Jewish calendar, many people reflect on the past year and some contact those in their lives they may have wronged, asking for forgiveness. Another set of people may be planning what to wear to shul for the two regular annual appearances they make, and some are just doing their best to get back in to the swing of the school year. One of the only things we all do, every single one of us no matter how observant we are of Jewish laws and customs, is eat.

This year, Congregation Beth Israel offered a cooking series for anyone interested in getting in touch with the food side of the holidays. I had the privilege of conducting this three-part series for members of the shul, touching on three distinct ways of looking at holiday cooking.

Jewish cuisine is incredibly diverse, so it was difficult to narrow the themes and recipe choices. I didn’t want to omit the important contributions that Ethiopian Jews or Jews from India have made to the range of recipes we call Jewish food, but, with only three classes, choices had to be made. Luckily, the classes were so popular, the cultures that were underrepresented this time will be explored in classes to come. Hopefully, there will be classes at many different synagogues around the Lower Mainland in the coming year.

The first class at BI focused on Sephardi-Mizrachi food. Sephardi cooking is specifically the cuisine of Jews who trace their heritage to Spain, those Jews who ended up in North Africa, the western parts of the Middle East, as well as some places in Europe, such as Greece. Mizrachi Jews are from farther east, those who may trace their lineage back to the expulsion of Jews from Israel after the destruction of the First Temple, the Babylonian exile. This ancient community spread to other parts of Asia and has a delicious set of foods as well.

A uniting factor for all the cuisines, if one keeps kosher, is the adherence to the laws of kashrut. Availability of ingredients is always a factor when preparing food and, as evidenced by the similarity of Jewish foods to the cuisine of our non-Jewish neighbours, Jewish food is, in essence, food of the world interpreted through a kosher or cultural lens. For example, Italian Jews have their own unique traditions, tracing back to their expulsion from Israel after the destruction of the Second Temple. One creative interpretation of a locally popular Italian food that would have been off limits to observant Jews is prosciutto. Innovative medieval Jews in northern Italy created goose prosciutto, making a trayf delicacy kosher.

My second class in the series centred on Ashkenazi cooking for the High Holidays. Originating in Eastern and Central Europe, these foods are heavily influenced by Slavic and Germanic cuisines. The availability of spices was more limited in Europe back in the day, and the traditional recipes are relatively bland and, in many cases, simple compared to those of our coreligionists to the east.

Unfortunately, the dearth of ingredients had no bearing on the eagerness of our Ashkenazi sages and scholars for limiting the foods to be eaten on various holidays. Many people know of the stringent restrictions on kitniyot for Passover, for example: the beans, lentils, corn and rice that Ashkenazi Jews are traditionally forbidden to eat during Pesach while other Jews happily eat pilafs and lentil soup. Rosh Hashanah is no different.

While not forbidden, there is a strong recommendation to avoid eating nuts. Why? Two reasons. Nuts were understood by medieval scholars to create extra phlegm and would, therefore, cause nut-eaters to disturb the fervent prayer of fellow congregants. Second, and more universally applicable, the sages attributed mystical meaning to the words for many foods, counting the numerical value of their letters (known as gematria) and equating it with other words of significance. The Hebrew word for nut, egoz, has a value of 17, which is the same as the word for sin, or chet, in Hebrew. Therefore, it was concluded that Jews should avoid eating “sins” so close to the time of judgment.

Gematria is also infused into many of the foods we consider symbolic for our spiritual well-being. Gourds and pumpkins are thought to bring us victory over our enemies, beans multiply our merits, and leeks and cabbage are lucky. Round foods like peas, or foods made round, like the challahs this time of year, symbolize the continuing cycle of life. There are many more examples. So, eat up! We want to get as many of these good things in before the final judgment comes down at the end of Yom Kippur!

Pomegranate is also traditionally eaten for Rosh Hashanah. There are two reasons for this. It is one of the seven species listed in the Torah that will be found in the Land of Israel but, also, mystically, it has been said that there are 613 seeds in a pomegranate: the same number of mitzvot in the Torah. Therefore, eating this fruit at this time of year symbolically gives us a leg up on fulfilling as many of the commandments from the Torah in the coming year as possible.

The final class in my series focused on embracing the local food scene and bringing locally available seasonal produce to the High Holiday table because the basis of this series was showcasing new recipes imbued with the kind of Jewish reasoning that has kept the Jewish people both rooted in tradition and relevant to our current time and place. Food is one of the things that unites and gives us a sense of belonging – to our culture, our family and potentially, our spirituality.

Michelle Dodek attended culinary school before the pandemic. She is a long-time contributor to the Jewish Independent, an educator and a balabusta, to boot. Watch for her Jewish food classes.

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photo - carrots — Carrots have lots of symbolism related to this time of year, including the resemblance of a round slice to a coin (prosperity) and, for Ashkenazi Jews, the similarity of the word for carrot (mern) to the word for increase/multiply (mehr), as in our good deeds should be multiplied in the coming year. *(photo from pexels.com)*

MOROCCAN CARROT SALAD
(Adapted from Adeena Sussman’s Shabbat: Recipes and Rituals from My Table to Yours, this recipe takes about 50 minutes to prepare and yields 4 cups.)

1 1/2 lbs carrots, peeled, if necessary
2 tsp honey or silan
1 large lemon or lime
1 clove garlic, grated (optional)
1 tsp cumin (or up to 1 1/2 tsp)
1-2 tsp harissa (to taste)
1/2 cup chopped fresh mint
1/4 cup olive oil
1/2 cup chopped fresh cilantro (optional)*
1 tsp kosher salt
4 Medjool dates pitted, sliced

Cook carrots in salted water until just fork-tender, about 10 minutes. Watch that you don’t overcook them, nobody wants mushy carrot salad. Drain and cool. Meanwhile, mince the herbs and zest then juice the lemon into a medium-sized bowl. Whisk in oil, salt, honey, cumin and garlic. Cut the carrots into coins and coat with dressing. Stir in remaining ingredients.

Serve immediately or hold in the fridge for up to five days. The flavours benefit from a day or two to mellow in the fridge, which is excellent when you need to prepare ahead for a large group.

*Some people intensely dislike cilantro. Make a few portions without it if you’re having a lot of people over for dinner and you don’t know their preferences, or omit it if you’re one of those people.

BGU rebuilds after much loss

Jeff Kaye, vice-president for public affairs and resource development at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, was in Vancouver earlier this month. (photo from BGU)

A couple of years ago, many Israelis were beginning to think the country’s legendary solidarity was fraying, that people were less caring, that a split between Israelis and diaspora Jews was growing and that young Israelis had lost some of the fervour of earlier generations. Oct. 7 changed everything. The chasm between Israelis and diaspora Jews evaporated, according to one Israeli who visited Vancouver recently.

“We really are in this together and we are a much stronger Jewish people, both in Israel and outside of Israel,” said Jeff Kaye, a vice-president of Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, who spoke with the Independent Aug. 7.

Older Israelis who thought younger people took the country for granted have had their assumptions upended, he said.

“They were the TikTok generation,” Kaye characterized the stereotypes about young Israelis. “All they wanted to do was earn some money, take care of themselves. And what Oct. 7 taught us is, underneath this, we had raised a generation of young people who have purpose, who care deeply about the country, who care deeply about values and, without being told, they took responsibility.”

Kaye saw this attitude in action at the university. Administrators were struggling to come to terms with the changed reality and students themselves instantly set up a babysitting initiative, food collections and volunteer teams.

Kaye, BGU’s vice-president for public affairs and resource development, made aliyah from Scotland in 1981, then spent a decade in special needs education before joining the philanthropic sector. He spent four years as emissary to the Jewish Federation of Detroit and then more than a decade in a senior leadership position at the Jewish Agency for Israel, during which time he helped create the Fund for Victims of Terror. Before joining BGU, he served for five years as executive vice-president and director-general of the International Fellowship of Christians and Jews.

Kaye was in Vancouver at the invitation of BGU Canada, one of about a dozen national and regional affiliates of BGU, that include chapters in Argentina, Belgium, France, South Africa, Switzerland and a global chapter for Russian speakers.

“My role is to find people throughout the world and say, this is what we do. This is who we are. This is why we do what we do,” he explained.

With a team of about 35, Kaye helps connect people with projects that meet their objectives and those of the university, whether recruiting people to serve on the board, run activities, sponsor projects, build a building or provide a scholarship.

Oct. 7 and the months since have affected the university profoundly, as they have every aspect of Israeli life. About 118 BGU students, faculty and staff were killed that day or in the war. Of BGU’s approximately 20,000 students, about one-third of them were called up for military service just as the academic year would have been starting in 2023.

“Obviously, universities couldn’t open and we were still under attack,” Kaye said. The first semester after Oct. 7 was delayed to Dec. 31.

Kaye credits the university’s president, Daniel Chamovitz, with ensuring a flexibility that allowed students to access as much education as possible around their military and other responsibilities.

In addition to the semester that began Dec. 31, another semester began a month later for soldiers who had returned in the interim. The university had multiple semesters running concurrently and, like many organizations that adopted new technologies, also offered recorded classes so students did not need to be on campus.

Because Israelis routinely start university after military service, many BGU students are not living at their parents’ homes, and may even have kids of their own. That created economic challenges for many who had lost not only class time but part-time or full-time income and saw spouses away on military duty. The university had to provide laptop computers for people whose homes were destroyed and psychological assistance for students who had witnessed or experienced horrific things.

On June 19 this year, during the war with Iran, a ballistic missile hit the university-affiliated Soroka Medical Centre, destroying a major part of the facility.

“Our labs – teaching labs, research labs, pathology labs – were all entirely destroyed,” Kaye said.

Miraculously, there were no fatalities. In an act of prescience, administrators had moved surgeries into a basement, fearing just such an attack. Kaye said the move – a day before the bombing – may have saved scores or hundreds of lives.

Another blast damaged a university gym. After the formal ceasefire, but when Iran continued sending missiles, an off-campus residence was struck, leaving 50 or more students and faculty homeless.

In Israel, a portion of property taxes are allocated to a fund to restore private property damaged or destroyed by terrorism or war. If your seven-year-old car is hit by a rocket, the fund will reimburse you the value of a seven-year-old car, Kaye said. “But if it’s a microscope that costs $800,000 and it’s 12 years old, you get money for a 12-year-old microscope,” he said. “But there’s no secondhand microscopes out there. So, you have to find the money to buy a new microscope.”

This is one of an incalculable number of examples of expenses incurred as a result of the war in this one university alone.

Kaye is grateful for donors worldwide who have stepped up to assist BGU in its time of challenge, but he noted that almost every organization in Israel faces variations on the same challenge – and diaspora communities have been called upon over the past two years to support umbrella emergency campaigns.

Amid all this, Kaye finds both optimism and hope.

What’s the difference?

“Hope is, you sit by and pray, wonder, hope that something’s good is going to happen,” he said. “Optimism is when you make it happen. I’m an optimist who is actively involved in bringing hope – and that’s incredibly easy to do in our university because we get up every day and we say, how can we make it happen?”

Time to vote again!

You may not know there is an election underway. Voting to elect delegates to the Canadian Zionist Federation closes Sunday, so you still have time to cast your ballot.

Although some of us have been receiving emails urging us to vote, it’s likely that most of us don’t even know there is campaign going on. It’s not front-page news.

Those chosen in the CZF election on Sunday will become delegates to the 39th World Zionist Congress, in Jerusalem, in October. (The legendary First Zionist Congress was convened by Theodor Herzl, in Basel, Switzerland, in 1897.)

Even if you haven’t yet heard about the elections, we think it’s worth taking a few moments to familiarize yourself with the slates, their platforms, and the role of CZF in connecting Canadian Jews to Israel. We encourage you to take this opportunity to have a small but important voice in the future of Zionism and our relationship with the Jewish homeland. Registering to vote costs $2.

The Canadian Zionist Federation is a national affiliate of the World Zionist Organization, and is comprised of 11 national Jewish Zionist organizations. These include the religiously affiliated groups ARZA Canada, “the Zionist voice of the Canadian Reform movement,” the Conservative movement’s MERCAZ Canada, and the Orthodox Eretz HaKodesh; political groups affiliated with Israeli parties, including Likud Canada, Herut Canada and Meretz Canada; ethnically oriented groups like Shas Olami, affiliated with the Sephardi and Mizrahi Orthodox party Shas, and Mizrahi Canada; and a linguistic grouping, the Canadian Forum of Russian-Speaking Jewry, as well as the non-denominational, non-partisan youth group Young Judaea, and Ameinu Canada, “a national, multi-generational community of progressive Jews in Canada, the United States, Australia and Brazil.” The slates in this election reflect and overlap within and across these groupings.

The World Zionist Organization styles itself as “the parliament of the Jewish people,” and it convenes every five years. WZO sets priorities for the Zionist movement worldwide. It is the main global voice on policy around Israel-diaspora relations, on such topics as Jewish education funding abroad, aliyah and religious recognition. The WZO allocates hundreds of millions of dollars in funding through Zionist institutions like the Jewish Agency, Keren Hayesod (United Israel Appeal) and Jewish National Fund.

Through the Canadian Zionist Federation – and then via the World Jewish Congress – each of us is granted a say in these essential issues. If you care about Israel and its relationship with the diaspora, and you would like to have a voice in the direction of that relationship, this is one important avenue.

Take time to peruse the platforms of the various groups vying for your vote. You may want to place particular attention on issues around the preservation of Israeli democracy, and legal protections and social equality for women and minorities in the country. Perhaps one or more of the platforms will reflect your views on how Israel can work toward peace while protecting its citizens and ensuring the long-term security of its borders.

Read the materials and see which slate best reflects your opinion on how many millions of dollars should be spent to strengthen Jewish life in Israel and worldwide. These elections – and the decisions to be taken at the Congress to which the delegates will be sent – represent the values and priorities of world Jewry.

Israel and Jews collectively are at an unprecedented moment – and while, by definition, every moment is unprecedented, especially in Jewish history, this feels different.

Perhaps you didn’t know you were eligible to vote. Maybe you were only vaguely aware of the Canadian Zionist Federation and what it does. You had probably heard of the First Zionist Congress but maybe didn’t know that the through-line in Zionist history continues from Basel in 1897 to Jerusalem in 2025.

Now you know a little more. Dive deeper. And, on or before Sunday, vote at czf.ca.

Coffee and sympathy

In Startup Nation, Dan Senor and Saul Singer’s 2009 book about Israel’s successes in innovation and entrepreneurship, the authors credit the hothouse environment created by the country’s many challenges not as a barrier but as a catapult to its accomplishments.

For example, mandatory military service, made necessary by Israel’s tough neighbourhood, has helped cultivate leadership, teamwork, technical skills and adaptability under pressure. Put simply, young people who have made life-and-death decisions for themselves and their unit while still in their teens may be less daunted than other people when confronted with the risks required to succeed in business or other life challenges.

In what may be an unanticipated twist on this resilience and adaptability, a chain of cafés has emerged in Israel with a very specific clientele. Restaurateur Tamir Barelko launched Café Otef, a chain with two outlets and plans for more. Otef refers to the Gaza “envelope” area where the Oct. 7 invasion took place.

A Jewish Telegraphic Agency article last week on the coffee shops tells the story of Israelis’ sometimes unconventional approaches to resilience and recovery.

The cafés, staffed entirely by survivors of the Oct. 7, 2023, attacks on southern kibbutzim, feature products from affected communities: cheeses from Kibbutz Be’eri, honey from Kibbutz Erez and other foods and products, like T-shirts, aprons and water bottles, sourced from entrepreneurs affected by the tragedy.

The first such storefront, Café Otef-Re’im, named after the kibbutz adjacent to the Nova festival site and where seven residents were murdered and four taken hostage, is owned and run by Reut Karp. Her former husband, Dvir Karp, was murdered in front of their three children. Dvir was a chocolatier and his recipes are enjoyed by café customers.

Karp and other staff credit the cafés with getting them out of bed in the mornings. One displaced kibbutznik who experienced culture shock in Tel Aviv finds the clientele can appreciate his dark humour in ways locals cannot.

Karp emphasizes that the café’s association with the tragedy is not a “gimmick.” While Tel Aviv is sometimes derided as a “bubble” removed from the realities faced by Israelis in other parts of the country, the central location, she explains, is a benefit that allows displaced residents from the country’s north and south to meet and share experiences.

Comfortable Canadians can hardly imagine either the inescapable grief of Israelis directly affected by Oct. 7 or the daily challenges of living with the memories. Enjoying coffee and chocolate in an environment explicitly created for working through the pain of that day and its aftermath might seem counterintuitive to those who have never experienced anything remotely similar. It may be a distinctly Israeli response to face the realities head-on.

At the same time, Karp acknowledges that her café does not push the tragedy in customers’ faces. One could drop in, stay awhile and leave without ever knowing the motive behind the place. One unavoidable sign, however, is a work of art made up of text messages sent on the tragic day.

Two new cafés are planned for the near future, including Café Otef-Sderot, named for the southern town that has always been on the frontline of Gaza rockets, and Café Otef-Kiryat Shmona, honouring evacuees from the northern town, which is in the Vancouver Jewish community’s partnership region. Barelko, the café’s founder, aims to recruit wounded soldiers from the ongoing war as the chain expands.

Canadian Jews, like Jews worldwide, are confronting a changed environment. Having the good fortune of comparative comfort for generations, we have not had to develop the mechanisms for coping with disasters like our Israeli cousins have been forced to cultivate. Of course, history has always presented Jews with challenges and Israelis, we might say, are a concentrated embodiment of Jewish resilience and constructive response to challenges. Café Otef is one small example of that response and an example for others facing challenges. As we conclude 2024, a year of continuing tests for our people, we should take a moment of reflection and pride in how we have adapted and responded since Oct. 7, 2023.

Many Canadian Jews feel overwhelmed and struggle to find positivity in the current moment. This is completely understandable. Nevertheless, our community has responded to changed circumstances with determination and toughness. This should be a source of immense pride. We should also focus on the extraordinary strength of Israelis as a model for facing our own difficult moments. The potent unity of Jews worldwide in the past year is a testament to kol Yisrael arevim zeh bazeh, all Jews are responsible for one another. The solidarity showed by diaspora communities has inspired and strengthened Israelis. We should not miss the opportunity to be inspired by their resolve as we confront on own very different but related troubles.

Fighting antisemitism

In Toronto, Yoseph Haddad, left, with Daniel Koren, founder and executive director of Allied Voices for Israel, which sponsored Haddad’s Canadian tour. (photo by Dave Gordon)

In recent years, Arab-Israeli activist Yoseph Haddad has become known for his efforts to fight antisemitism and present Israel’s perspective to international audiences, and he has taken up this mantle with much greater emphasis since Oct. 7, 2023. This month, Haddad’s Canadian tour, organized by Allied Voices for Israel, took him to Montreal, Calgary, Toronto and Vancouver.

At Toronto’s Shaarei Shomayim Synagogue, Haddad, who leads the Israeli nonprofit Together Vouch For Each Other, which works to bridge the gaps between Arabs and Jews in Israel, covered a few topics. He spoke about how his army service changed his life, how he protested anti-Israel agitators with pro-Israel Concordia students, and what he believes is Canada’s complacency towards antisemitism.

Though he was not obligated to serve in the Israel Defence Forces, Haddad voluntarily enlisted in the army in November 2003, more emboldened to do so after the terrorist bombing of Maxim restaurant in Haifa that left 21 dead and 60 injured. According to Haddad, Maxim was an establishment where the co-owners, employees and patrons were Arabs and Jews. It was an emblem of coexistence in Israel.

Haddad said it was the name of Israel’s army, the Israel Defence Forces, that helped him further understand that the force was defending all people in the country, not just Jews. During his service, he was a commander over Jewish soldiers, and he offered this as one of many examples that punctures the lie that Israel practises apartheid.

He related a story about when he was accused at a public speech of being an “idiot,” of being used by the Jews, and that he would be eventually “thrown to the garbage.” He had an easy rejoinder, he said.

While fighting in the 2006 Lebanon War, he suffered a life-threatening injury four days before the ceasefire, when a Hezbollah antitank missile exploded nearby and severed his leg. At risk to their own lives, his battalion carried him to safety. After treatment and extensive rehabilitation, he can even play soccer. He told the audience, if his unit wanted to throw him away, that would have been the time to do it.

Haddad warned of refugees and immigrants from the Middle East, some of whom, he said, bring extremism to Canada.

“Instead of adopting Western values, instead of adopting Canada’s laws, they’re actually trying to change it to Sharia,” he said. “And that’s the biggest problem.”

Canadian authorities, he said, are “ostriches” who have their heads in the sand.

“When it comes to dealing with extremism and terrorism and terror supporters, zero tolerance [should be the response], and that’s what Canada should do,” said Haddad.

It’s also a lesson for Israel, he added. In June 2023, he said, Hezbollah “infiltrated” Israel and set up in Israeli territory, a situation that Israel dealt with diplomatically. But this gave the terror group the sense that Israel didn’t care much for the land, didn’t care that an enemy had squatted on it, and that Israelis were “scared,” Haddad said. It contributed to Hezbollah’s perception on Oct. 8, 2023, when firing rockets, that “they thought that we are weak, because we presented ourselves as weak.” He said that, if he had been in charge, he would have flown F16s over the tents and bombed them.

The United Nations and the International Criminal Court are “really obvious for bias,” in ignoring the crimes of North Korea, Venezuela, Iran, Cuba, Syria “and other countries who have zero human rights,” said Haddad. The UN “is adopting the narrative of a terrorist organization” when citing casualty numbers from the Hamas-run Gaza Ministry of Health, he added.

Haddad encouraged Israel advocates to speak out on social media: “If you see content which is anti-Israeli, report it. Leave a comment. Leave an Israeli flag. And if you see a pro-Israel comment, support it, share it, show it to other friends, take part in that, because we’re out there.”

Haddad is active on multiple platforms, including YouTube, and he posts content in Hebrew, English and Arabic, with nearly two million followers.

Haddad said he remains optimistic. What uplifted him especially was having seen IDF soldiers in Gaza last summer who included “all the identities of the Israeli society.” They were, he said, united in two missions: find and free the hostages, and eliminate the terrorists. “And the only way that we can be supported,” he said, “is by being united, left and right, Jews and Arabs, secular and religious. And, I promise you, if society is united, there isn’t one single terrorist organization that can beat us.”

At the Toronto talk, journalist and activist Raheel Raza, a Pakistani-Canadian, was honoured for her decades-long allyship to the Jewish community.

At the Vancouver event, which took place at Temple Sholom, speakers included Daniel Koren, founder and executive director of Allied Voices for Israel, and students Zara Nybo and Ben Morrison. Jaime Stein, whose uncle, Dr. Steve Stein, was title sponsor for the cross-Canada tour, also addressed the audience. Grand Chief Lynda Prince, AVI Allyship Award recipient, spoke of Jewish indigeneity and connections between Indigenous Canadians and Israel. David Bogdonov spoke on behalf of the Ronald S. Roadburg Foundation.

Nybo, a University of British Columbia student, is the president of the Israel Club on her campus, though she herself is not Jewish.

“Israel is fighting a seven-front war. We, as students, are fighting on the eighth front of that war – on college and university campuses,” she said. “I am going to war with my peers, my professors, the administration and even the UBC president. I don my hostage pin and head out the door every day into an unknown battlefield of anti-Israel rhetoric, terrorist supporters, and antisemitism.”

Nybo said students are “being brainwashed and fed purposeful disinformation about Israel and the history of the Middle East every single day” while a “prominent” history professor for Middle Eastern studies at UBC wears a keffiyeh on campus, joins pro-Palestine rallies “and encourages his students to do the same for extra credit.”

She said, “I am standing here sounding the alarm about the bias ingrained in the university academic system.”

This “overwhelming systemic issue,” she said, can be confronted with education and by empowering students, as she was. Nybo had a campus media fellowship with AVI and HonestReporting Canada. This helped her hone her writing and editing skills, and her pro-Israel articles have been published in the National Post, Jewish Independent and Algemeiner. She was subsequently accused by a professor as being “employed by Zionist entities,” she said.

But challenges such as these can be faced when students are brought together, she said, “under the banner of allyship, building bridges and empowering students to speak out, all while providing community reinforcement.”

Dave Gordon is a Toronto-based freelance writer whose work has appeared in more than 100 publications around the world. His website is davegordonwrites.com.

Teaching the spirit of Israel

Kayemet LeYisrael – Jewish National Fund activities in Winnipeg took place at Brock Corydon school, Gray Academy (above) and Herzliya Synagogue. (photo from KKL-JNF)

A variety of educational and experiential activities conducted by teams from the department of Zionist education in the diaspora, part of the education division at Kayemet LeYisrael – Jewish National Fund, took place in Jewish communities around the world during “National Month,” which includes Memorial Day, Independence Day and Jerusalem Day. Activities took place at schools, kindergartens, Sunday schools, synagogues, Jewish organizations and elsewhere in 16 countries, including Canada.

photo - A Kayemet LeYisrael - Jewish National Fund activity at Brock Corydon school in Winnipeg — A Kayemet LeYisrael – Jewish National Fund activity at Brock Corydon school in Winnipeg. (photo from KKL-JNF)

In Canada, teams conducted activities in Toronto, Windsor and London, Ont., and in Winnipeg, Man. Activities included a virtual art and graffiti tour of Tel Aviv-Jaffa, lectures on life in Israel post Oct. 7, a Kites for Hope event, and activities for children about Independence Day.

photo - Kayemet LeYisrael - Jewish National Fund at Herzliya Synagogue — Kayemet LeYisrael – Jewish National Fund at Herzliya Synagogue. (photo from KKL-JNF)

“Activities organized with the envoys from Israel were incredibly meaningful to our communities here in Canada,” said Yifat Bear Miller, KKL-JNF envoy to Canada. “As we are distant from Israel here in Canada, such activities fostered a deep connection to Israel, Judaism and the current situation in the region.”

– Courtesy Kayemet LeYisrael-Jewish National Fund

A way to support Israel

Raquel Benzacar Savatti, chief executive officer of Israel Bonds Canada. (photo from Israel Bonds Canada)

The phones at Israel Bonds Canada have been ringing off the hook since Oct. 7, according to Raquel Benzacar Savatti, chief executive officer of the organization that sells bonds for the Israeli Ministry of Finance in this country.

Canada has always shined in terms of its large base of retail purchasers of Israel Bonds, Savatti told the Independent earlier this month. That base has grown substantially.

“Jews to Israel are like firefighters to a burning building. When that building is on fire, they run towards it. When Israel is in trouble, Jews in the diaspora run towards it,” Savatti said.

Israel Bonds can be purchased online and Savatti noticed that many new accounts were opened in October.

“The volume was incredible – people I have not heard from in years, people I have never heard from before, young people. We always asked, how are we going to capture the next generation? This was it,” she said. “People understand it’s a very direct way to show their support of Israel.”

Savatti stressed that Israel Bonds is looking to engage as much as it can with the community in Vancouver and beyond. She praised the work of Ross Sadoff, executive director of the organization for British Columbia, noting that a lot of people in the province reinvested after their bonds reached maturity in recent months.

“We have to be together in our support of Israel and for each other. We have to have hope…. Israel has historically proven that after any conflict it has come out stronger and more innovative. I firmly believe we are going to see more of that when this is over,” she said.

Savatti underscored that the war has caused economic devastation in Israel, yet the country still has to operate and, ultimately, rebuild. The majority of Israel’s budget comes from taxpayers and there are a lot of people not working right now. Concurrently, there are challenges with sustaining the farming sector, the shuttering of businesses, the need to house evacuees and missing tourism dollars as a result of the war.

More than $50 billion has been invested through Israel Bonds by people from all over the world since its inception in 1951, creating a direct connection with Israel for many in the diaspora. In 2023, Israel Bonds had set a global goal of $1.5 billion US – by the end of the year, the amount exceeded $2.7 billion US, the bulk of which arrived after Oct.7. In Canada, more than $130 million US was sold last year and the goal for 2024 is $120 million US, though needs could change.

“I am so proud of us as a country,” Savatti said. “We punch so high above our weight given the size of our Jewish community. Per capita, we do better than any other country.”

The bonds are loans to the state of Israel to be used as it sees fit. When a particular bond – there are several to choose from – reaches maturity, the loan is repaid with interest. In the 73-year history of Israel Bonds, the country has never defaulted on the payment of the principal or interest of its debt.

In February 2021, with Savatti as CEO, Israel Bonds (officially Canada-Israel Securities) became a registered broker-dealer.

“This decision to become regulated came under the behest of the government of Israel,” Savatti said. As such, anyone who sells Israel Bonds must take the Canadian Securities Course, which would allow them to serve in an advisory capacity regarding investments as well.

“Whatever investments are being made by the purchaser, we, as the bonds organization, want to make sure they are suitable,” Savatti said. “We are not advising on a full portfolio, only on how Israel Bonds could work in that portfolio.”

For example, a person can invest in a given Israel Bond as part of a Registered Retirement Savings Plan, a Registered Education Savings Plan, a Tax-Free Savings Account and even a First Home Savings Account, depending on the goals of their portfolio. A person can select a variety of bonds with different dates of maturity.

“They really suit everybody and still make very good bar and bat mitzvah gifts,” Savatti said.

Of the types of bonds on offer, there is, for example, the eMazel Savings Bond, which is only available online; it starts at $36, with a maturity of five years. The Jubilee and Maccabee Bonds last as long as 15 years, with a $25,000 Cdn and $5,000 Cdn minimum, respectively.

Savatti has been connected with Israel Bonds since 2001. Before becoming CEO in 2016, she was the director of women’s and synagogue positions, divisional director, human resources manager, and chief customer officer. She was also the executive director of Ezer Mizion, an Israel health support organization, in Canada for two years.

For more information, visit israelbonds.ca or call 1-866-543-3351. Questions can also be put to Sadoff in the BC office, at 604-266-7210 or [email protected].

Sam Margolis has written for the Globe and Mail, the National Post, UPI and MSNBC.

We are not here, there

These past weeks have been nothing we diaspora Jews have known for generations. We feel pain, anguish and horror. If our hearts are not just broken, but shattered, how can we begin to imagine theirs, in Israel, when we are here and not there?

As citizens of the world, we fail to comprehend how human beings can be filled with a type of venom so potent to allow themselves to commit acts of such savagery. We want to turn our eyes away from the pictures that serve as testament to the Hamas terrorists’ brutality, but we are forced to look, we must look.

We try to capture in our minds snapshots of the land we love; the rich and wonderful places we have visited on times spent there and the vitality of the strong, diverse and beautiful people that crowd Israel’s usually bustling streets.

We WhatsApp, email and call family and friends to check on their safety. We are without words. We don’t have the vocabulary. It is hard to put together sentences or know what to ask. We type and erase, erase and then type again. Of course, they are not OK, we know they are not, but grasping the depth of their despair we cannot know for we are here: we are not there.

We turn to the media to tell us what they know, or what they think they know. We scroll at an accelerated pace through social media and, if brave enough, we post our thoughts and then we wait; we wait for response.

We try not to judge, but we do judge those people we thought could understand our anguish. Why haven’t they reached out? Why haven’t they written? Do they find it harder to find the words than we do?

We go to gatherings and rallies thinking how can we even begin to feel afraid? We are not in harm’s way, for we are here and not there, and, yet, we catch glimpses of the helicopter hovering above and the uniformed police and security guards stationed outside our community institutions. Some debate going to classes on university campuses, sending precious children to school and attending synagogue services. We measure the size of the protests that take place on the streets of our home.

As the days go by, we try to go back to some sort of normal, feeling guilty that we actually can, because we are here and not there. This time, however, something feels eerily different. Things are not the same. Until now, perhaps we lived under the illusion that we are safe, protected and fully accepted because we are here and not there. We have tricked ourselves into believing that double standards do not exist, that under-the-surface bias toward us cannot lurk. But we know better now that it can, and it does, and it is painful and lonely and real.

We must not be complacent, as we cannot fade into the masses. We must put on our own armour of pride, strength and morality and endure all that lies ahead. And, while we go on, we do so having to sit with the uncomfortable truth that, while we are not there, we are not really here either.

Danita Dubinsky Aziza is a member of the Winnipeg Jewish community and wrote a book about her experiences as a third-generation Canadian living in Israel from 2008 to 2012, Finding Home: A Journey of Life Lessons in the Land of Israel. This article was originally published in the Winnipeg Jewish Review.

Navigating the rough times

There are no words. I’m doom-scrolling, praying and worrying, reaching out to family and friends, but nothing prepares us for seeing more than a thousand Israelis murdered and hundreds kidnapped. The images are so graphic, so many bodies desecrated. On my social media feed, the images haven’t stopped coming.

Yet, in the first days of the war, there was a silence. I realized that others weren’t seeing what I was seeing in my Instagram feed. The North American media felt sanitized, distant from the reality that was depicted on Israeli TV and media. The first day or two back at school after the Simchat Torah/Thanksgiving weekend, my kids were stunned when others asked them why they were sombre. Until this year, they attended a Hebrew/English bilingual public elementary school. With their transition to junior high, they didn’t have nearly the same number of classmates who understood the situation.

At their International Baccalaureate middle school, there are curriculum additions, such as a special lunchtime club that meets to make a difference in the world. The resource teacher advises the club. She was sensitive to the needs of the kids affected by the war in Israel and Gaza, and mine came home with fundraising brainstorms. I wrote to thank the teacher for showing support during this hard time.

Then, she asked – do you have ideas for what else we can do? It took me awhile to make a list. I thought about what mattered most for me, far from the war but also very affected by it. The hardest parts of the list are long-term things that teachers should do: teach about misinformation, and definitions of things like terrorism, “rules of engagement” and more. The easiest parts, perhaps the most meaningful ones? Conducting a kindness campaign. Asking how others are doing and listening to their responses. Active listening would help everyone, Israelis, Canadians who are Jewish or Palestinian, and concerned bystanders. So many innocent lives have been lost. We need to talk about it.

I suggested to the teacher that another way of reaching out positively would be to do cards of support. The next day, my son joined other kids from the middle school who walked to the bilingual elementary school to deliver the cards. It was on Friday, Oct. 13, the day that Hamas suggested be a global day of harm for Jews. On a positive note, my son got to share his elementary school and his Hebrew skills by translating for a non-Jewish friend. He was proud. On the other hand, most of the kids in the bilingual program were absent due to the threat. Those who did come to school, from grades 1 through 6, filled just one classroom, according to my kid. He visited with beloved grade school teachers and ate challah at the Shabbat party – but the threat was real.

Outside the school, my kid saw both an unmarked police car and a marked cruiser. My heart flooded with gratitude when I heard this, but the school is in a huge field, accessible from multiple directions. One police car? Two? I felt the fear all over again. How many police would be “safe enough”?

Meanwhile, I heard that Jewish homes in one Winnipeg neighbourhood were egged, and the police were called. A potentially violent rally in support of Palestine, using words like “genocide,” was scheduled within easy walking distance of my home.

Even though we’re far from the fighting, it’s hard to gain traction on work while feeling so emotionally undone. Massive numbers of Palestinians were asked to move and large swaths of Israelis evacuated from both the north and south regions of the country, while so many have been called up to reserve army service. For those Canadians who have lost a family member, the pain is constant. For those who have kidnapped loved ones, like Vivian Silver’s family in Winnipeg and Israel, the families work to publicize their losses and wait in dread to hear what has happened.

Twice, I felt able to rise above this emotional turmoil and felt joy. Both times, it was because of a bar mitzvah.

The first instance that stunned me took place last week, when the cantor who tutors my twins asked them to chant together for their lesson. Their lesson was short, as there was an Israel solidarity rally that she was leaving to attend. I lurked in the next room. Usually, my kids jostle for position but, during that lesson, their voices rang out together, making the rote practice of Torah and Haftorah blessings become so powerful. “Wow,” I heard the cantor say, continuing with something like, “I’m glad I didn’t cancel your lesson. Thank you for gifting me with those brachot.” An almost holy silence hung in the air afterwards.

A few days later, we attended a Chabad bar mitzvah for a kid my twins knew in preschool. Even behind a mechitzah (the barrier between the mens’ and women’s sections), the bar mitzvah boy’s voice rang out sure and strong as he absolutely shone. It was something to see: his big personality, confidence and knowledge. I was achingly proud of our Judaism, in all its diversity and strength.

Writing to deadline, I imagine what might be relevant in a few days, but the things that have helped me will still help later. I am following my own advice. Each day, I am taking time to write emails or texts to friends and reach out. How are they? Are their families safe? Do they need anything? I try to take time to pause, hear what everyone says, and listen for the moments of Jewish joy that we can create – in synagogue or at our homes, when we’re alone or together.

Many ask, “How are you doing?” I pause and say, “Well, it’s been a rough time.” I’m also trying to maintain hope for the future. One hears it – through the generational continuity of every child becoming b’nai mitzvah, through Hatikvah and one other phrase – Am Yisrael chai, the Jewish people lives. It will be my prayer as we get through the days ahead. Amen.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

A family metaphor

As British Columbia’s Jewish community and friends come together Sunday to celebrate Israel’s 75th anniversary – a concert at the Queen Elizabeth Theatre, capping a multitude of celebratory events over the span of weeks – no one doubts that this moment is unlike any in the short history of the state, or in the relations between the Jewish state and the Diaspora.

The General Assembly of the Jewish Federations of North America took place recently in Tel Aviv and the news service JNS headline noted modestly: “Jewish Federations’ annual conference becomes embroiled in political battles.”

It is true that the umbrella of the Federation system has generally tried to steer clear of internal Israeli politics. This is part of a larger family dynamic in which the instruments of the Diaspora are expected to not rattle the cage of Israel and Israeli officials are expected to retain a level of polite distance in commenting on Diaspora affairs. This separation has always been porous, especially when it comes to issues that directly affect Diaspora Jews, such as recognition of non-Orthodox conversions, egalitarian prayer at the Kotel and similar matters. But fears that proposed judicial reforms, and other plans of the new governing coalition, will alter the fundamental democratic DNA of the state have lowered the bar for engagement by overseas mishpachah. Indeed, weekly demonstrations in cities across North America and Europe, including in Vancouver, by the group UnXeptable represent a new wrinkle in the stay-in-your-lane status quo.

It is interesting how little criticism we have heard of this phenomenon. Time was, such behaviour would have been seen as “airing dirty laundry in public.” Israel (and Jews) have enough people criticizing them that we don’t need to add to the pile-on ourselves, the thinking has tended to go. It may be a sign of the widespread revulsion to the proposed judicial reforms themselves that have eclipsed this long-held reluctance to publicly criticize. Or it may be something more fundamental. Perhaps Diaspora Jews and Israelis are now engaging on a more equal footing.

Of course, we should not overstate our influence. Like buttinsky in-laws, we may significantly overestimate the weight of our interventions. Israeli officials have long chided overseas critics for their uninvited advice. And indications are that average Israelis don’t think a great deal about us at all.

Michael Steinhardt, the American philanthropist who cofounded the Birthright Israel program, wrote in the online journal Sapir recently that we may be seeing a complete inversion of the Israel-Diaspora relationship. The paradigm since 1948 has been that the Diaspora’s role is to “build” and “save” Israel.

“Israel is doing just fine,” Steinhardt writes. “We non-Orthodox Diaspora Jews, on the other hand, are not. ‘Supporting Israel’ has become a kind of narcotic, giving us a sense of self-worth and achievement that allows us to ignore the tempest that has put our own future in doubt.”

While Israel still faces challenges, Steinhardt seems to argue that it has evolved to a point where it can handle them on their own. At the risk of taking the family symbolism to its extreme, Diaspora Jews may be behaving like empty-nesters, their role now diminished, struggling to find a new identity.

He specifically cites assimilation, disengagement from Jewish life, declining Jewish education and synagogue attendance, which was already in decline before being pummeled by the pandemic.

“And then there’s the increasing pressure of antisemitism on campuses, city streets, and in public institutions,” writes Steinhardt. “Taken together, these constitute a well-documented existential threat to Diaspora Jewry that is far more immediate and profound than anything Israel faces today.”

It may be hyperbole to suggest that these crises facing the Diaspora, however serious, are “far more immediate and profound” than Iran’s nuclear ambitions, continuing terrorism or, perhaps, even the self-inflicted divisions caused by overreach by the new government. But it deserves discussion.

When our family members grow up (there really is no end to the metaphor), we do not give up supporting them. We continue to offer advice and wisdom – whether they want it or not.

And perhaps this is the correct lesson from the metaphor: when the once-dependent member of the family reaches a level of maturity that they can engage in an equal footing with the rest of the kinfolk, the dynamic rightly changes to a discussion between equals, in which either side is freer to offer criticism and advice, and both sides are free to take or reject it.

Surely we can all agree on this: when you reach 75, you ain’t no kid.