As hot as things have become in Israel and the West Bank over the last many weeks with escalating violence, here in North America a chill is palpable. It comes in the form of silencing within and across communities – in private homes, on university campuses and in community institutions. It’s coming from both sides: those who call themselves “pro-Palestinian” and those who call themselves “pro-Israel.” While the Palestinian solidarity side uses boycott and silencing, the Jewish community has its own internal conversation watchdogs.
Recently, a speaker at the University of Minnesota was shouted down, his talk delayed by 30 minutes. The invited scholar was Moshe Halbertal, a philosopher at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and a professor of law at New York University. It was a scholarly talk: the Dewey Lecture in the Philosophy of Law, sponsored by the university’s law school. Halbertal is also a noted military ethicist who helped draft a code of ethics for the Israel Defence Forces. The Minnesota Anti-War Committee took credit for the stunt; Students for Justice in Palestine endorsed it.
If you’re concerned by the extent to which civilians have born the brunt of violence and destruction in the Israeli-Palestinian context, Habertal is someone you’d want to speak with, especially in an academic context, where the point is the free exchange of ideas. But it’s hard to pose tough questions if you’re trying to silence the person.
This blocking of Halbertal’s speech is a trend that gets its fire from the academic and cultural boycott of Israel organized by the BDS (boycott, divestment and sanctions) movement, along with the more general push against what many Palestine solidarity activists call “normalization,” meaning ordinary engagement with Jews and Israelis and their ideas. Activists argue that the target is institutions, not individuals. But the effects on individuals and open speech, as they were at the University of Minnesota, are clear.
Continuing in this vein, producers of Dégradé, a film about Gaza told from the perspective of clients at a hair salon, pulled it from the Other Israel Film Festival sponsored by the JCC Manhattan because it’s a “Jewish” festival. While it seems that the producers’ decision was their own, it suggests a dangerous precedent: fortifying the silos between acceptable audiences and unacceptable ones in the world of art, ideas and culture.
Meanwhile, while the Jewish community doesn’t talk in terms of boycott and anti-normalization, it has its own troubling rules of engagement.
There are the narrow speaker guidelines for those with whom campus Jewish groups allow their members to publicly engage in dialogue. The guidelines for Hillel International, the world’s largest Jewish student organization, exclude anyone who “delegitimize[s], demonize[s] or appl[ies] a double standard to Israel, or supports the boycott, divestment and sanction movement.” While it’s natural that Israel supporters would bristle at those things, the rules effectively preclude Hillel students from inviting for debate and dialogue any Palestinian solidarity activists, almost all of whom, unfortunately, have jumped on the BDS bandwagon.
When my seven-year-long columnist post was cut from my local Jewish community paper last summer, I was told that it was to “make room for new voices.” Since then, it’s become clear that the publisher wanted only one angle on Israel. The columnist who focuses almost exclusively on the failings of Israel’s adversaries remained in place, while my replacement is steering clear of Israel altogether.
And then there are the corners of quiet shunning. I recently organized a Jewish community youth project involving rotating hosts. One of the participants pulled out, citing the fact that her husband “didn’t want me in his home.” He was appalled by my last Globe and Mail piece. When it comes to “support for Israel,” they said, “there is only one side.”
But some – young Jews in particular – are pushing back against this narrowing of discourse. First there was Open Hillel, a grassroots organization devoted to opposing the speaker guidelines mentioned above. (Disclosure: I am on the group’s academic advisory council.) And now there’s the Jewish People’s Assembly, which has launched in Washington. The group is demanding that Jewish federations – the main funding body of local Jewish communities – “not condition support for Jewish institutions and organizations on these institutions’ adherence to red lines around Israel.”
One might fantasize about casting all the silencers into a room where they can sit in silence with each other to their heart’s content. Meanwhile, the rest of us can continue to try to talk, to write and to publicly grapple with the dilemmas of the day, trying to search for bits of common ground wherever they might be.
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 by the Globe and Mail.
The Hellenistic/Hasmonean excavation at Nebi Samwil. (photo by Anthony Bale)
Just over 10 kilometres north of the Temple Mount, the Old City and east Jerusalem, where terrorist attacks continue, Muslims and Jews both go up to Nebi Samwil, to what they consider to be the holy burial place of Samuel the Prophet.
On the Thursday between Yom Kippur and Sukkot and the first day of Eid al-Adha, the Muslim Feast of Sacrifice, I visited this archeology site located in the West Bank. It was quite a scene.
A young Muslim family in Western holiday dress entered the Muslim part of the joint prayer site. They were followed by a young ultra-Orthodox couple who climbed to the roof for photo-taking. Close on their heels, a group of young adult Chassidic males piled out of a mini-van.
Walking by the Muslim cemetery, along the northern perimeter of the archeology site in the direction of the spring, I nearly bumped into a glitzy-dressed bridegroom, clad from head (kippah) to toe (pointy shoes) in silvery white. Continuing on my way, I glimpsed Bratslav Chassidim scurrying into the trees on their way to hitbodedut or seclusion. At the edge of the spring named after the Prophet Samuel’s mother, Chana, North American yeshivah students were drying off following immersion in this natural mikvah, ritual bath. (If you visit, consider equipping yourself with a bullhorn or whistle to announce your upcoming presence to anyone who might be in this open mikvah.)
Special religious experiences are not new to the site. For example, some 500 years earlier, Christians were having mystical experiences at Nebi Samwil. In 1413, Margery Kempe, an English mystic, traveled from the coastal plain toward Jerusalem. When she passed Nebi Samwil, she was so overjoyed by the view and by her reported heavenly contact, she nearly fell from her donkey. Two German pilgrims broke her fall. “One of them was a priest, and he put spices in her mouth to comfort her, believing her to have been ill. And so they helped her onwards to Jerusalem.” (The Book of Margery Kempe)
And, speaking of “joy,” earlier on when the Crusaders first looked south to Jerusalem from this point, they were so enthralled that they named the area Mount of Joy or, in French, Mont de Joie. In between combating those they considered pagan, heretical or politically inexpedient, the Crusaders happily settled in at Mont de Joie. They established a cistern, church, monastery (apparently commemorating Samuel the Prophet), pilgrims hostel, stable, quarry (drinking troughs and hewn stones are clearly visible today) and a fort. Before they began construction, they razed the area upon which they built. Crusader joy was relatively short-lived, however, as a generation later, in 1187, Salah ad-Din pushed them out and ushered in the Mamelukes. Curiously, the remains of one Mameluke building have an arch displaying a Star of David. While it looks like a Magen David, back then it was not a Jewish symbol.
Like the earlier Umayyads and Abbasids (638-1099), the Mamelukes went into pottery production. Archeologists have uncovered the large kilns they used, as well as pottery with place-identifying Arabic seals. Oddly enough, during this same period, the site became a holy place for Jews from Egypt, Syria, Mesopotamia and elsewhere. In 1730, however, Jerusalem’s Mufti Sheikh Muhammad al-Khalili called a halt to Jewish pilgrimage, by what Yitzhak Magen terms “appropriating the tomb from the Jews” and forbidding Jews to pray there. The mufti erected a mosque at the site.
Some Jewish sources have identified Nebi Samwil as the biblical Rama, the burial place of Samuel. Others have identified it with Mitzpah, a site connected to Samuel, and later to the Hasmoneans.
Speaking of the Hasmoneans, the well-built structures from the Hellenistic period were not destroyed by natural disaster or by fighting. It appears that the community was simply abandoned. One theory maintains that the Hasmoneans did not want competing places of worship, as there apparently was a tradition of worship at both Mitzpah and neighboring Givon (see Maccabees I: 3,46 and Kings I: 3,4). That is, they wanted to centralize worship and power in Jerusalem.
In being at the site, you see how people have protected their holdings. One way has been to build a fortress, equipping it with soldiers and weaponry. Another way has been to declare a place a holy site. While we cannot actually prove that Samuel the Prophet was buried at this site, neither can we totally disprove it. So the tradition stands for Jews, Muslims and Christians. Today, the site houses both a Wakf-run mosque with its tomb of the Prophet Samuel and an Orthodox synagogue with its separate tomb for the Prophet Samuel.
***
If you visit Nebi Samwil, don’t be fooled into thinking that you are going to the original citadel and mosque. The British destroyed it while fighting to take Jerusalem from the Ottoman Turks. During the Mandate, however, they rebuilt the structures.
The visiting hours for the archeology site are 8 a.m.-4 p.m. (winter) and 8 a.m.-5 p.m. (summer). Visiting hours for the prayer sites are Sunday-Wednesday continuously, with the exception of two hours between 2-4 a.m.; and Thursday-Friday, from 4 a.m. until an hour before Shabbat begins. More on the site, including a map, can be found at parks.org.il/sigalit/DAFDAFOT/nabi-samuel_eng.pdf.
At the time of my visit, there was no checkpoint, and apparently only one guard on the premises. Originally located among the archeology ruins, Israeli authorities moved the village called Nebi Samwil to its current setting in 1971, with some controversy. (For example, see alt-arch.org/en/nabi-samuel-national-park.)
Nebi Samwil is partially accessible to wheelchair users. If readers wish to get further details on the subject, they can contact the park curator, Avivit Gara, at 972-2-586-3281.
Deborah Rubin Fieldsis an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
“Vanity of vanities. All is vanity.” The day of remembrance for Kristallnacht was this week. Looking at what’s happening in Israel and globally, I’m reminded of the Preacher. By the Preacher, I mean Kohelet, traditionally thought to be King Solomon, whose writings in the Tanakh are known in English as Ecclesiastes. The first line, in Hebrew, reads: “Havel havalim. Hakol Havel.”
Everything is havel, which, better than vanity, is translated “vaporous, breathlike, fleeting.” Everything is vapor. Like Abel, whose Hebrew name is Havel, and whose life was like vapor, blown apart by Cain. Like what we thought we had gained in Israel, once upon a time: a state of our own that had mostly won the world’s respect and affirmation through blood, sweat and tears. A refuge. We thought we had pushed back the red sea of ancient, irrational hatred. The world had, to an amazing degree, recognized our right to a homeland in our homeland. The horrors of the Holocaust were understood and widely contemplated.
Yet, in the past months, much of what has happened has the character of a bad dream. The New York Times writes that the Temple Mount may not have been where the Jewish Temple was after all (later retracted under pressure). The United Nations declares ancient Jewish holy sites to be under the rightful control of a future Palestinian state, even as Palestinian Arab terrorists torch Jewish holy sites. In Europe, organizers of a Kristallnacht commemoration declare their plans to turn it into a commemoration of the Palestinian suffering for which Israel bears responsibility.
And the stabbings. The Palestinian leadership put the word out that Jews planned to change the “status quo” on the Temple Mount, where Al-Aqsa Mosque also stands. Currently, only Muslims have free access to the site, with everyone else having very limited or no access to this sacred space, revered by Jews especially but also Christians and Baha’is. “Changing the status quo,” according to Palestinian fears, would entail increasing access for non-Muslims (at least) or tearing down al-Aqsa and replacing it with a synagogue (at most). Israel has no intention of either: not of expanding access (although surely that would be a step forward for human rights and decency were that to happen) and certainly not of razing Islam’s third holiest site. Yet the claim enflames the Palestinian street, as it did at the start of the 2000 Intifada. Mothers begin celebrating the deaths of their children who died to “defend Al-Aqsa,” even giving out candy on TV. A Palestinian Arab mother names her newborn baby “Knife of Jerusalem” after the attacks. Mahmoud Abbas, who Western media falsely portray as a moderate, calls for the shedding of Jewish blood and declares that the “filthy feet” of Jews will not besmirch Al-Aqsa.
Mainstream Israel wants to negotiate an independent state for Palestinian Arabs yet a majority of Palestinian Arabs believes Israel wants to take their land and evict them. Tellingly, this is in fact what the Palestinian Arab leadership wants – to take back all Israeli land and eliminate Israeli Jews, as the Hamas charter and popular Palestinian songs, media and school textbooks demonstrate. In a classic psychological move, the Palestinian Arab imagination projects onto Israel its own desires: what is within is used to interpret what is without. This narrative has spread beyond the borders of Israel and the disputed territories to capture the imaginations of people all around the world. So, our refuge has begun to feel, increasingly, like a new ghetto, where we can be once again easily separated out and demonized.
Havel havalim. Hakol havel.
After experiencing years of checkpoints, poverty, “collateral damage,” the Gaza wars and more, it is certainly understandable that Palestinian Arabs feel sorrow and rage. It is even understandable that they hate the Israeli government. But to blame Israel and all Jews for their suffering, and not the racist, Israel-negating, violence-inciting, kleptocratic Palestinian leadership?
Israeli self-defence is viewed as aggression; the most enlightened state in the Middle East is slandered as an “apartheid state”; Zionism is viewed as racism by people whose denial of Zionism is in fact rooted in racism. Havel havalim.
Where do we look for something solid to hang on to? The opinions of the world, the justice of its courts and institutions, are failing us. And we ourselves are not immune to being blown apart by this hurricane wind on the inside and losing anything worth fighting for. In Israel, Jewish mobs have formed to attack “enemies” internal and external. Hatred and anger against the Palestinian Arabs grows. We are in danger of forgetting their humanity and their pain. We are in danger of losing our ability to think rationally, to think long term. We cannot and will not find security in the courts of the world. We must make our own reality, one that reflects what we know to be true. And we must hold to that reality with strength and with love. That is what we are already doing in our best moments:
A Jewish restaurant gives a 50% discount to Jews and Arabs who eat together.
There are peace rallies in Tel Aviv and Jerusalem.
Israelis find a variety of ways to laugh through what is happening and share them online.
Doctors in Israeli hospitals treat Palestinian terrorists alongside their victims.
We know that Israelis want peace, and that Jewish values in no way mandate injustice or aggression towards Palestinians or anyone else. We must make our own peace and our own future, through clinging to our own highest values like a rudder in the storm. And, as we find a way to a just divorce with the Palestinian Arabs, as Amos Oz so rightly said we need to do, both for their sake and for our own, we must at no time forget the humanity of each Palestinian Arab. We must not demonize them, must not forget that every Palestinian Arab is made in the image of God. Our own spiritual tradition, the beating heart of our highest values, mandates that we do not return hatred for hatred. At no time may we forget to fear the loss of our own humanity under the impact of their knife blades and bombs and stones. That is the way to commemorate Kristallnacht.
Matthew Gindinis a writer, lecturer and holistic therapist. As well as teaching holistic medicine, Gindin regularly lectures on topics in Jewish and world spirituality, and has a particular passion for making ancient wisdom traditions relevant in the modern world. His work has been featured on Elephant Journal, the Zen Site and Wisdom Pills, and he blogs at Talis in Wonderland (mgindin.wordpress.com) and Voices (hashkata.com).
הממשלה הליברלית החדשה בראשות ראש הממשלה, ג’סטין טרודו, תפעל לחזק את הקשרים בין קנדה למדינות ערב. זאת לעומת תקופת שלוש הממשלות של ראש הממשלה לשעבר, סטיבן הרפר, בהם הקשרים בין קנדה למדינות ערב הלכו ונחלשו, בזמן שהקשרים עם ישראל הלכו והתחזקו. מנהיגי מדינות ערב והפלסטינים האשימו את ממשלות הרפר בכך שהן נוטות בברור לטובת ישראל, וקנדה אינה יכולה לשמש מתווכת מאוזנת בין הצדדים. אך כאמור ממשלת הליברלים עומדת להנהיג מדיניות חדשה בכל התחומים, כולל יחסי החוץ ולהתקרב מחדש למדינות ערב. מדיניות חדשה זו צפויה לפגום ביחסים עם ישראל או לפחות להקטין מכוחם.
שר החוץ הקנדי החדש, סטפן דיון, אמר בסוף שבוע שעבר כי קנדה מבקשת לחזור לתפקידה המסורתי (לפני עידן הרפר), ולהיות מתווך הוגן בין הצדדים במזרח התיכון, תוך חיזוק הקשרים עם מדינות ערב. לפי הערכת פרשנים קנדה של טרודו לא תתמוך יותר אוטומטית בישראל בכל עניין ועניין כפי שעשה שלטונו של הרפר, וכל מקרה יבחן לגופו. הממשלה החדשה צפויה להשמיע גם ביקורת קשה יותר על ההתנחלויות של ישראל.
דיון מציין כי “ישראל היא ידידה, בת ברית, אבל כדי שנהיה בני ברית אפקטיביים, אנו צריכים לחזק את היחסים עם שותפים לגיטימיים אחרים במזרח התיכון”. דיון מתח ביקורת על הדרך שבה הרפר ניהל את המדיניות כלפי ישראל, כיוון שהוא הפך את הנושא לעניין כחלק מקפיין הבחירות שלו, ופגע בעוצמת היחסים של קנדה וישראל.
לפי מחקר רפואי חדש ומפתיע לא מומלץ בכלל לבדוק את לחץ הדם אצל הרופא המשפחתי, או במרפאה מקומית. אלה לבחור במקום שקט ורגוע יותר כמו בבית או בבית המרקחת. ההנחיות החדשות שעולות מהמחקר התפרסמו לאחרונה בקנדה וארה”ב. וזאת כדי לגרום לשיפור משמעותי באיכות בדיקות לחץ דם וכן להביא לתוצאות נכונות יותר של הבדיקות.
ההנחיות מתבססות על ניסיון מצטבר בקרב הרופאים המשפחתיים ועל-פיהן, רבים מבין הפציינטים שמתבקשים לבדוק את לחץ הדם במרפאותיהם, נמצאים ליד הרופאים דווקא במצב של לחץ רב וחוסר שקט נפשי. או כפי שהתופעה נקראת בקרב הרופאים בהגה המקצועית שלהם, כי בעצם הפציינטים לוקים “בתסמונת החלוק הלבן”, דבר שבדרך כלל מהשפיע לרעה על תוצאות הבדיקה ויכול לתת תמונה שגויה על מצבם הבריאותי האמיתי. לפי הערכה מקצועית כשליש מהפציינטים בקנדה לוקים “בתסמונת החלוק הלבן”, ותוצאות שגויות של בדיקות לחץ הדם שלהם יכולה לגרום לשימוש בתרופות שלא לצורך.
על פי ההנחיות של המחקר החדש מומלץ עוד לבדוק את לחץ הדם במשך עשרים וארבע שעות ברציפות באמצעות שרוול מיוחד, שמולבש על ידו של הפציינט. בעזרת אותו שרוול לחץ הדם של הפציינט נבדק כל עשרים עד שלושים דקות. קיימת אופציה נוספת והיא לבדוק את לחץ הדם באמצעות התחברות למכשיר אוטומטי בפעם ביום במשך שבוע שלם. עלות המכשיר האוטומטי בקנדה נאמדת בסביבות שישים דולר.
אין זה חדש מחקרים רפואיים רבים מראים כי לחץ דם גבוה הוא גורם סיכון בריאותי משמעותי ביותר, ויש לו קשר ישיר להתקפות לב וכן לשבץ מוחי. כיום לאחד מתוך חמישה תושבי קנדה יש לחץ דם גבוה. בפועל מדובר על כך שכתשעה עשר אחוז מהאולוסיה המקומית לוקה בלחץ דם גבוה. חומר למחשבה.
Once we’ve watched the videos of our new prime minister Bhangra dancing, scrolled through the rehashed pics of him shirtless at the weigh-in for his boxing bout against Senator Patrick Brazeau and perused the swooning of global commentators, we may turn our attention to Justin Trudeau’s policies in his first days as our leader-designate.
One of his first acts was to inform U.S. President Barack Obama by telephone that Canada would withdraw from combat missions against ISIS. This was a central part of Trudeau’s election platform and Canadians voted for him strongly, so this move was consistent with what he said he would do.
Canada’s role in the fight has not been insignificant, though we are by no means the foremost military in this battle. In the past year, six Canadian CF-18 jets have been involved in more than 180 airstrikes against ISIS targets. Trudeau promises this will end. He says, though, that Canada will remain a part of the 65-country coalition by increasing humanitarian aid and continuing to train Iraqi security forces.
On other matters of foreign affairs, Trudeau says that his government will restore diplomatic relations with Iran. We do not know yet whether the multipartite agreement intended to prevent Iran from constructing nuclear weapons will meet this objective. It will be years before we can conclusively answer this. But we wrote in this space when the Conservative government cut diplomatic ties with the Islamic Republic – long before negotiations over the nuclear program even began – that it was wrong to do so.
If you want to make peace, you don’t talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies. These were the wise words of Moshe Dayan. More to the point, from a practical standpoint, diplomatic relations will improve the situation for Canadians of Iranian descent and those with families there, who were probably punished more than the government in Tehran by the diplomatic break.
Continuing on foreign affairs, circling from ISIS to Iran and around to Israel – Trudeau spoke by phone to Israeli Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu four days after the election.
The specifics of the conversation are private, but Israel’s ambassador to Canada, Rafael Barak, said he is optimistic Canada’s friendship with Israel will be unchanged.
“Mr. Trudeau has been very consistent from the very beginning of his campaign, in expressing his support for Israel,” Barak told Canadian Press. “I’m sure maybe the style will change. But I don’t feel there will be a change on the substance. I’m really reassured.”
A Trudeau spokesperson said “there would be a shift in tone, but Canada would continue to be a friend of Israel’s.”
We will watch closely, of course, to see what “a shift in tone” looks like. As we noted in this space two weeks ago, the Liberal party ran an ad in the last days of the election campaign in Canadian Jewish News promising, “On Oct. 19, our government will change. What won’t change is Canada’s support for Israel.”
That is an unequivocal statement and it probably reassured a great many voters who believed a change of government was desirable but a change in approach toward Israel was not.
The importance of a potential “shift in tone” is that, frankly, tone is just about all we have to offer. The impact we had under the Conservatives – for better or for worse, depending on one’s politics – was based almost exclusively on our words.
Proud as we may be of our significant sacrifices and achievements during the First and Second World Wars, which we will mark next week on Remembrance Day, and significant as our contribution has been in Afghanistan, Canada’s impact on the global stage today is mostly one of principled voice. We are not a major military power. We have economic power, but less than our major trading allies. Agree or disagree with the content, former prime minister Stephen Harper showed that a Canadian voice – even a lonely one in the wilderness, as it often was when he defended Israel – can have powerful resonance.
Sirens always make me pause. I fall silent and count one off, praying that there won’t be another. Because two sirens, as we used to say, are not women in labor.
Distant memories from the Intifada segue into those of summer last. Somehow, the rise of conflict in Jerusalem always comes along with the rising temperatures. But after the emergency meetings, the touring politicians, the dramatic headlines, there comes the first rain, and everything calms down. Then the countdown begins for next summer.
Some, though, aren’t content with just counting the days. Jeremy made aliya from D.C. six years ago. A reserve paratrooper officer, he rides his bike to work, halfway across town, each time reassuring his mother, thousands of miles away, that he wasn’t anywhere near the most recent attack. Last month, he joined a crowd of 5,000 to watch Matisyahu, the famous Jewish-American rapper, perform beneath the Old City walls. “Jerusalem If I Forget You gets a whole new meaning these days,” he tweeted, referring to the ancient prayer borrowed by Matisyahu for one of his songs.
Michal is a mother of four. At night, after putting her own children to bed, she has been going downtown, where she volunteers for a group seeking out dialogue with angst-filled youth bent on revenge. To her ever-concerned sister, she vows never to leave Jerusalem, with its crisp, cool air and still-low crime rates. It’s her husband who drops off the kids at school the following morning, where they are taught about the complexities of living in a mixed city, where you have to defend yourself with one hand and reach out to your would-be enemies with the other.
Another person is Ibrahim, a Hebrew University law student, and also a resident of Ras el-Amud, a Palestinian suburb shaken by recent events. Intimidating glares by Hamas supporters notwithstanding, he goes online every day, trying to convince people to stop the cycle of violence. Despite the long-standing advice of friends to relocate to Ramallah or the United States, he clings on to his naïve faith that there’s still hope in this conflict. Meanwhile, he alerts the authorities to suspicious happenings and, a few weeks back, confiscated a knife off of a 15-year-old brainwashed neighbor kid.
Then there’s Batia. She is an ultra-Orthodox woman. Every day she walks to work at City Hall. Despite having recently bought a canister of tear gas as a precaution, she prefers to put her faith in G-d and in the ubiquitous policemen. Just before Shabbat, she often goes up to them, to deliver fish, meat and chicken and to make their shift a little more pleasant.
Jerusalem keeps going, not through pompous statements, but through the hard work and devotion of its people, some elected officials, some social entrepreneurs and some ordinary citizens, united by relentless optimism and a profound love for their city. When things started getting really bad, I put out a call for an emergency meeting of Jerusalem civil society organizations. Within three hours, representatives from 33 organizations sat around a conference table at City Hall. It came as no surprise; even during “normal” times, the amount of people willing to sign up for civilian “reserve duty” is astounding.
There are teenagers handing out Israeli flags. Elderly people handing out small gifts to security personnel. Psychologists supporting youth in distress, activists helping out local businesses, and a string of independent online campaigns. These ordinary citizens allow the city to keep on living its life: thousands of students going back to school, the basketball team fighting to retain its championship title, and Buzz Aldrin, the second man on the moon, joining 2,000 people at the International Astronautical Congress last month.
This energy, this drive to take responsibility and think out of the box, are precisely what is needed to resolve the complexity of current events. We have to crack down on violence, while empowering moderate leaders; fight incitement on both sides and defend the right of every man and woman for freedom of worship; and make sure East and West Jerusalem get their share in infrastructure investments.
It’s time for this fresh perspective to rise from the bottom up. We are tired of instant solutions, quickly denounced by this side or the other of the political map. We are tired of those who take turns making political gains out of our hardship. Jerusalem is a different place, and requires a different point of view. The one we, young people of Jerusalem, discovered 10 years ago, when everyone else said the city was lost, and we formed Wake Up Jerusalem.
From this point of view, there is a lot of good to see. And even more to do.
Hanan Rubinis a Jerusalem city councilor and a co-founder of the solution-oriented political movement Wake Up Jerusalem, which focuses on quality of life issues for all Jerusalem residents.
The Machal memorial, in Jewish National Fund’s Yitzhak Rabin Park. (photo from machal.org.il)
You would think that, after serving in the Second World War, you would just want to pick up where you had left your civilian life. Indeed, the vast majority of Jewish and non-Jewish Canadian soldiers did so. But some 300 Canadian fighters joined more than 4,100 volunteers from almost 60 countries to fight for and maintain Israel’s independence. They were referred to as machalnikim, machal being an acronym in Hebrew for mitnadvei chutz l’Aretz, or “overseas volunteers.”
According to Smoky Simon, World Machal chair, four interrelated factors impelled the volunteers to keep fighting: the Holocaust, the British deportation of Holocaust survivors, the Arab threat to wipe out Palestine’s Jewish population and the feeling of Jewish unity, particularly in times of major crises.
These veteran fighters provided inexperienced Israeli forces with much-needed military knowledge and leadership. For example, Torontonian Ben Dunkelman claimed that “Canadian pilots accounted for one-third of all Arab planes shot down in that war.” In fact, John McElroy, a Canadian Second World War ace, succeeded in doing just that.
Following Israel’s independence, Machal volunteers built the radar system for the then-infant Israeli army. According to Rabbi Dr. Joe Heckelman, in his 1974 book American Volunteers and Israel’s War of Independence, this “early warning” system identified intruder planes “at relatively great distances.” Until mid-1949, a significant number of Machal personnel worked on the radar unit, then called Squadron 505.
Other Canadians volunteered for other kinds of service. Thus, Toronto-born Leonard Fine, who had served for five years as a physical training instructor in the Royal Canadian Air Force, joined the Israeli 72nd Infantry Battalion of the 7th Brigade. Dunkelman commanded this brigade. The only two platoons of the completely English-speaking B Company successfully removed problematic Arab Liberation Army observers and snipers situated on the Kabul mountains, overlooking the small Arab village of Tamra. Canadian volunteer Sidney Leisure died in the shooting. A month later, Fine became the sergeant major of the support company.
Another former member of the Canadian Air Force also switched military careers in Israel. Montreal-born Willie Rostoker volunteered to staff immigrant ships, undaunted by the fact that he had no sailing experience. Rostoker was quick to learn, and started studying navigation and other seaman’s skills. He proved to be a very good helmsman. Between 1946 and 1948, he worked on several Aliya Bet ships, including Ulua (aka Chaim Arlosorof), which docked in Palestine on Feb. 27, 1947; Pan York (aka Kibbutz Galuyot), which arrived in Palestine on Jan. 1, 1948; Fabio (aka the Battle of the Ayalon Valley), which made it to shore on May 29, 1948; and the Kefalos (aka the Southerner), which steered into Israel on Nov. 23, 1948. In addition, before the ma’apilim (Jews who tried to enter Palestine during the British blockade) set sail on the Battle of the Ayalon Valley, Rostoker trained them. When the fighting ended, he made Israel his home.
Speaking of ships, David Azrieli reports in Rekindling the Torch: The Story of Canadian Zionism (2008) that, during this period, two Canadian corvettes were purchased as “freighters” – the Beauharnois, renamed the Josiah Wedgwood, and the Norsyd, dubbed Aliya Bet Haganah. Canadian Moishe Sokolov volunteered to sail with the Haganah. It was supposed to transport 1,200 refugees and return for more people. But, once in Yugoslavia, the crew learned it would be the last Aliya Bet ship allowed into Palestine. Hence, orders were to take as many refugees as possible: 2,600 boarded, with about half below deck and half on deck. According to information obtained from the World Machal website: “It was so crowded that the ones above could not get below, and the ones below could not get topside. It was a very difficult and dangerous trip for all, passengers and crew alike, but all the refugees got to Palestine.”
After Israeli independence, the vessels were reactivated and renamed the Hashomer (Guard) and the Haganah (Defence). The vessels engaged Egyptian warships, bombarded enemy positions and patroled the shoreline. Their biggest coup came on Aug. 24, 1948, when the former Canadian corvettes seized a huge cargo of arms intended for the Arab armies. In what was called Operation Pirate’s Booty, the Hashomer and the Haganah intercepted the Argiro, a ship sailing under the Italian flag. The Israeli crew members found 8,000 rifles and 10 million rounds of ammunition.
Although not from a Zionist background, Canadian Joe Warner, now 90 (and going strong), joined the fighting because he felt “it won’t be worth being a Jew elsewhere if Israel did not survive.” He fought in southern Israel, in the Faluja area. The battles in which he participated helped free the Negev from Egyptian control of main roads. The combat – especially around the strong concrete police fortress of Iraq-Suidan – was intense. Years later, when Warner visited the Givati Museum established at that very spot, he found the captured Egyptian cannon his anti-tank unit had used.
Warner had been training as a pharmacist after his Second World War discharge. So, in Israel, he was called upon to be a pharmacist/ medic. He responded by setting up a first-aid station at Hazor, making use of medical equipment and supplies seized from the Egyptians. This early hands-on experience apparently served him well, as for 15 years he helped establish and manage Pfizer drugs in Israel.
In contrast to Warner, now 91-year-old Batya Wolfson Lam had a strong Zionist background. As a member of Toronto’s Shomer HaTzair, she had made aliya in 1947 or 1948. After three months of boring work on Kibbutz Sasa, she jumped at the call for volunteers to help in the fighting. She joined Machal, as the pay was slightly higher than the pay received by regular Israeli soldiers. She was assigned to the English-speaking air force codes and ciphers department. There, she received messages that she forwarded in secret code. She first worked at a station on Yarkon Street in Tel Aviv but, after a year, she opened stations in Jerusalem, Dorot, Yavniel and Haifa. She trained the staff for these locations. She served in the army for two years, returning briefly to Sasa. Then, she moved to Kibbutz Eindor, where she met her husband. Although her four children chose not to remain on the kibbutz, she has lived there for more than 70 years. She regrets that Machal volunteers haven’t received more recognition for their contribution to Israel.
Mention must be made of the Canadian volunteers who lost their lives in Israel’s fight for independence. They include both Jews and non-Jews. According to Heckelman and World Machal, they were George (Buzz) Beurling, Wilfred (Zev) Cantor, William (Willy) Fisher, Leonard (Len) Fitchett, Sidney Leizerowitz, Edward Lugech, Ralph Moster, Sidney Rubinoff, Reuben (Red) Schiff and Fred Stevenson. Two cousins, Harvey Cohen and Ed Lucatch, are not recorded to have joined any army unit; they disappeared without a trace.
Deborah Rubin Fields is an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
Anat Hoffman, right, and another member of Women of the Wall, standing at the entrance to the Kotel in January 2013, as Charedi men look away. (photo by Michal Patelle (Women of the Wall) via Wikimedia Commons)
For more than 30 years, Anat Hoffman has been fighting for individuals’ rights. Notably, her work with Women of the Wall, which won legal recognition in 2013 for women’s right to pray at the Kotel wearing prayer shawls and using a Torah. And her more than 10 years with the Israel Religious Action Centre, which has achieved government funding for non-Orthodox rabbis, earned multiple Supreme Court decisions recognizing Reform and Conservative conversions, and won a 2011 Supreme Court ruling making gender segregation on public buses illegal.
The self-described troublemaker will be in Vancouver Nov. 15-18, speaking to several community groups, as well as addressing the Jewish community as a whole on Nov. 16, 7:30 p.m., at Temple Sholom. Her topic – From the Back of the Bus to the Top of the Agenda.
“I’m talking about the achievements of a family of organizations – Women of the Wall, the Religious Action Centre, the Jerusalem Open House, the Association for Civil Rights in Israel, all sorts, we’re a cluster of organizations for social change, and I am such an admirer of my colleagues,” said Hoffman. “And we’re all looking at the same issues: how the monolithic interpretation of Judaism in the Jewish state is limiting and stunting our ability to enjoy Judaism and celebrate it.
“In this respect, more than any other, including security, economics … we must dialogue with the Diaspora Jews. You have a stake in it, and you have an opinion. Israel is way too important to be left to the Israelis.”
She doesn’t want Diaspora Jews to be silent, she said, because there are things that Israelis can learn from them. “I’m tired of Israeli arrogance, and the feeling that we know everything,” she said. “If we know everything, how come we are in the situation we are in today on our 67th anniversary? That’s number one: I am humbled by reality and I think we could use all the help we could get.
“The second thing is, I think it’s a joint project. I think it’s the most important project of the Jewish people…. The state of Israel, the fact that we have a sovereign Jewish state, is so exciting and so wonderful, and I think we’re involved in the most important dialogue in our lives – you and I. What are the values of the Jewish state? What are Jewish values anyway? Are they the values of the Book of Joshua – smite them, kill them, annihilate them? Or the values of Isaiah? Who do we listen to, and who do we act like? I’m an Isaiah person, he’s my steering committee. I read him for inspiration and I think if he were alive in Israel today, he’d be under administrative detention – the man had no mouth control.
“So, I am driven to speak to Diaspora Jews, involve them in this dialogue and tell them to stop being quiet. If you are quiet, don’t be surprised if Jerusalem turns into Tehran, don’t be surprised if you wake up one day and you’re ashamed to even be called Jewish because of what the Jewish state is doing. You have to make your statement known today – and, it turns out, the Israeli government is very sensitive to what Canadian Jews think…. You’re not using your fantastic nuisance value. You have so much of it and you don’t use it.”
Acknowledging that Canadians are “extremely harmony-seeking and somewhat conservative,” Hoffman said people should speak up “in whatever style fits you. If Israel arrests women wearing a tallis, praying out loud and trying to have a bat mitzvah at the holiest site of the Jewish people, if this is not something right, then you should mention it.”
The morning of her phone interview with the Jewish Independent, Hoffman had attended a b’not mitzvah at the Kotel, one girl had come from Brazil, the other from the United States. “I had to stand in front of them and explain that we don’t have a Torah scroll this morning because the rabbi [Shmuel Rabinowitz] refused to give me one for these two girls – he has 100 Torah scrolls for public use. I found a way to smuggle in a Torah, but I didn’t use it today. Why? Because I didn’t want to make the Jerusalem police look like horses’ asses today because they have other things on their plate,” she said, referring to the current spate of terror attacks.
Because of the security situation, Hoffman had written Rabinowitz to ask him to make an exception that one day, and to allow the women to use one of the Kotel’s Torahs, “so that we do not burden the police with our problem,” she said. “I didn’t even get an answer.”
Despite “30 years of troublemaking,” Hoffman said she has never felt unsafe or isolated. “Not only am I not persona non grata, I was elected and reelected to the city council of Jerusalem endless times. I have 24,000 voters in this right-wing, ultra-Orthodox city. I’ve never felt threatened. My phone number is published in the phone book…. Israel is a democracy and as someone with a dissenting voice – I always was a member of the opposition – I think I was rewarded for this.”
On the issue of gender segregation in public spaces, Hoffman said victory could be declared. “We certainly don’t see new segregations going on, and the new ones are punished by the government now.”
Of the challenges that remain, she said, “Freedom of religion and pluralism, recognition of the Reform and Conservative movements, recognition of women in religion, the issue of the Wall – on these issues of pluralism, the religious establishment is very, very strong in resisting any change because any change would mean the breaking of their empire.”
Also on the morning of her interview with the Independent, former chief rabbi of Israel Yona Metzger was indicted for allegedly accepting some $2 million in bribes. “They have a corrupt system and they’re fighting to keep it because they are very spoiled and used to it, and there’s a lot of resistance to change in that power structure. That structure is the next frontier.”
Calling the Women of the Wall, “the Little Engine that Could,” Hoffman said, “We’re pushing for equality and, in the end, we will win. Am I going to see the end of this struggle? I’m not sure, it’s taking too long. But is it going to be won? There is no doubt in my mind that it will be won.”
Hoffman said she is pushing for a model she learned about in a Limmud South Africa conference a number of years ago. The presenter – Simonne Horwitz – shared stories about the small Jewish community of Saskatoon. In the winter, people help each other get to synagogue, she said, “and they don’t care if you’re Orthodox, Reform or Conservative. And the congregation, the building of the synagogue, it’s Orthodox if a majority of Orthodox show and it’s Reform if the most Reform show, and the one structure can become whatever it is that the people want it to be at that moment.”
Horwitz told the small community’s stories “with so much humor, so much joy,” said Hoffman. “I come from the largest Jewish community in the world, and I have a lot to learn from Saskatchewan, Canada.”
Hoffman said about Israel, “I want us to recognize all streams. I want our structures of religion to be able to be as pluralistic as possible. I want freedom in the market called religious services, and may the best rabbi win.”
Hoffman encouraged everyone to come hear her speak. “I would like to make sure that people who are not liberal, feminist, peacenik, that they know that they are very, very welcome to come dialogue with me. I’m very interested in speaking to more than the choir. I love to dialogue with people who are willing to look at their opinions and check them out with this Israeli. There are Israelis of many kinds. Israelis like me don’t come to your area very often, and I would very much like to dialogue with people who disagree with me, in a civilized manner. Even if you leave me with your same opinions, at least you’ve aired them out a little bit…. It’s a Jewish thing to do. We’re asked to leave our comfort zone a few times a year: when we leave home to build a sukkah, when we throw every piece of bread from our house…. So, I invite very much those people who are not in my natural habitat to come and talk to me.”
She also stressed that it is not regular Israelis who object to the changes she and her colleagues and supporters are demanding, but rather “the establishment that has so much to lose. And it’s all the folly of Israel. By giving one stream the political power, huge political budgets and the ability to monopolize all religious services in Israel, we’ve corrupted something so important for Judaism – the free spirit of criticism, the art of argument. All this is gone now because there’s only one way. Since when do the Jews have a chief rabbi? We never had a pope, never. We’ve always argued. We argued with Moses, Moses argued with God, the prophets argued with the kings, the kings wanted to resign, God resigns, Moses throws his hands up! We’ve always argued. The Talmud is one long argument. We come from a fantastic core of arguments. It all ended with the state of Israel, the argument ended, there is an establishment, the Orthodox establishment, and it’s so bad for orthodoxy, bad for Israel and bad for Judaism.”
Goldie Hoffman is set to play the character of Daphna in Bad Jews, a play by Joshua Harmon. It will be in Vancouver at Rothstein Theatre from Nov. 10-21, directed by Jay Brazeau and produced by Famous Artists Limited. For the Jewish Independent article on the play, which includes portions of the interview below, click here. For tickets, click here.
JI: How hard was it for you to put yourself into your “bad” shoes, or in what ways are you similar and different with respect to the Jewish spectrum than your character?
GH: I’m wearing my “bad Jew” shoes as we speak! In many ways, I think the play is actually poking fun at that very notion of being a “bad Jew,” as there’s really no such thing – or, if there is, well then, we’re all “bad Jews” in one way or another. There is no right way to be Jewish, either religiously or culturally and, as Jews, we grapple with what that identity means to us and how much we want it to affect our lives and sense of self.
That reminds me of the Jewish saying, “two Jews, three opinions,” and that’s something that I think aptly describes Jews, but is something we should be proud of – that we accept and even thrive on debate, discussion, questions and, of course, the fact that we can openly poke fun at the religion and culture. There’s definitely something very Fiddler on the Roof-esque about this play and the characters – each character deals with their Jewish identity, changing times, and the weight of historical and cultural legacy and community, in their own way.
With respect to my character, in some ways I’m both my character Daphna and her cousin Liam, or at least have been aspects of both of them at one time or another. My experience and views about my “Jewishness” continue to change and evolve, so I’ve been all over the map. For instance, as a kid, I was raised Chassidic, and then as a teen I became non-observant, but was still a believer. Then I identified as “spiritually Jewish.” Now I no longer believe in Judaism, and I’m a secular humanist, but culturally or ethnically, I am definitely Jewish (whether I like it or not). I think this is something a lot of non-Jews have trouble understanding, because the term Jew can apply to both the religion Judaism, but also the Jewish culture, ethnicity, nation, and community, as we are such an old people that we predate these modern terms.
As for Israel, as you know, that’s such a sensitive and ambivalent issue for the Jewish community and something we all have different views on. For my character Daphna, Israel is extremely important and she plans to make her life there. I used to share her fervent Zionism as a teen, and even considered going to Israel as well, either to a kibbutz or to do one of their volunteer programs with Magon David Adom (their national emergency medical disaster, ambulance, and blood bank services as well as national aid society).
I am still a supporter of Israel, though not without my criticism, just like with other countries; but unlike Daphna, I don’t support Israel from a religious standpoint and don’t believe in the existence of holy lands. I can speak, read and write Hebrew (also some Arabic), and tend to really like and get along with Israelis and have a few friends and acquaintances in Tel Aviv who are in the arts scene. I think Israeli Jews are such a unique, interesting and strong people, and they’re very different from North American Jews. If I’m fully honest, I think they’re our cooler cousins, because they’re people who just “happen to be Jewish,” versus we here who are taught our Jewish identity and worry about how it squares up with our national one, and who are by and large much more sheltered and privileged than they are. I also think Israelis are better looking than we are, but I know that’s up for debate. But c’mon, all those people mixing from all those different countries and backgrounds? – you can’t compete with that!
I realize I’m sounding a lot like Daphna now in my praise of Israelis, but again, it’s from a different angle. As an artist, I’m specifically very impressed with Israel’s amazing and thriving arts, culture and film scene, especially given all they deal with on the international and domestic front. As I said, I’m not without criticism, but I do feel Israel is unfairly castigated and vilified in the world and held to unfair double standards. I’m unfortunately disillusioned about the possibility of peace there, and can’t help but think of Israel and that entire region with a tinge of sadness. Still, I’m definitely overdue for a visit and would love to perform live there or work on an Israeli film.
However, all that said, I struggle with the paradoxical dilemma of how to continue the survival of the Jewish people and Israel, while still supporting humanism, secularism, democracy, and the belief that mixing is a great thing for humanity. I think this is a major theme the play deals with and questions, and something most Jews can relate to, as well as many non-Jews with strong cultural and ethnic identities and communities.
JI: Characters that are a “type” can come off as superficial. In what ways have you tried to infuse your character with reality/humanity to prevent them from becoming stereotypes?
GH: I think it’s important not to judge your character as good or bad/ right or wrong. Humans are complex individuals and it’s important to remember that when you portray any character. In fact, generally in real life, we don’t set out to be wrong or behave badly. Most of us try to go through life making good choices, and when we make bad ones or hurt people, we often don’t intend to or don’t even realize the impact of our words and actions. When playing a character, I try to portray their point of view, as best as I can understand it. In fact, after first reading the play, I was actually offended when first seeing Daphna described as a “zealot” in online play reviews and synopses, because I see that term as quite negative, and I didn’t see (or want to see) her that way.
I feel I really understand where Daphna is coming from, even if I don’t share all her views. In fact, I’d go as far as to say, this is a character that is closest to me of all the roles I’ve ever portrayed – to the point where it’s scary and even embarrassing. As for playing a certain “type,” it’s true there is a certain stereotype and similarity many Jewish girls and women share, and yes, a lot of it does apply to me: brunette, outspoken, loud, animated, and yes, also stubborn and annoying – but also spunky, fun, caring, intelligent and funny (and clearly modest). Hey, let’s face it, get a bunch of Jewish girls in the room, and I challenge you to tell me many don’t look and sound like sisters. Daphna shares these qualities, too, but at the same time, we’re of course all individuals, and so our views and outlooks on life can be extremely different.
As far as her being real, to me Daphna already is a real person, and I can completely see and hear her, so I only hope I can translate that successfully to the audience. Aside from the parts of her that I relate to, I even know several “Daphnas,” especially being raised Jewish in both N.Y. and Montreal and now being in L.A. a lot – all big “Jew-towns.” There is a unique experience that Jewish girls and women have, which I relate to. For example, facing certain sexist traditions and customs (especially if raised Orthodox), family dynamics, rivalries, pressures and high expectations, and, of course, last but not least, we are aware of our brethren’s love of “shiksappeal,” which my character’s cousin Liam has. Though on that subject, having dated several non-Jewish guys, I say, “It’s all good, boys, ’cause it goes both ways.”
JI: How did you come to hear about Bad Jews and audition for it?
GH: Our director, Jay Brazeau, contacted me after speaking with director, writer, actor, producer Ben Ratner, who recommended me to him. Ben runs and teaches at Haven Studio, and I’ve trained with him a lot, working on many intense plays and scripts in multiple genres. So, it’s really thanks to Ben that I got this part, both because of his recommendation and also thanks to his training. I was then asked to read with Amitai (who plays Jonah) in front of Jay and our producer Bill Allman in an informal non-audition audition. “Don’t think of this as an audition, Goldie …” they said, and as I jokingly thought to myself, the unsaid continuation of that line was, “… but this read will likely affect whether or not you get the part.” Fortunately, I got the part, and I’m thrilled and truly honored to be playing such a fun role and being part of this ensemble.
JI: Are you going to get a perm to play Daphna?
GH: Oh no, you’ve just outed me as a straight-haired chick! I’m honestly still debating if I should get a perm or not. I’ve had friends with the real “Jew-fro,” and used to be jealous of them, even with their complicated product-regimen they had to wrestle with, and, of course they were jealous of my straight locks. We want what we don’t have, right? I may curl my hair each night, and I’ve been experimenting, burning my fingers, while I curl my hair trying to get it just right so it looks realistic and doesn’t have that “fake curls look.” I know some actors have used extensions for this part, but I want to be able to use my hair in the scene. So, as I write this now, I’m leaning towards a perm, but we’ll see.
JI: As I don’t think we’ve had the pleasure of interviewing before, can you share a bit about your background? How you’re a dual citizen, and split your time between Vancouver and LA? In what other shows Vancouverites might have seen you recently? Whatever else you might like to add.
GH: Ah, now to sum up myself and my background quickly. As you can tell, I’ve clearly mastered the art of being concise.
Long story short, I don’t have the typical North American Jewish experience, because I was raised in more than one. I was born in Brooklyn, N.Y., into a Chassidic family. My mother was from Montreal, my father from San Diego, and their youthful act of rebellion was to leave their secular Jewish lives, and join an ultra-Orthodox Chassidic movement in N.Y., much to the dismay of their families. Talk about being “bad Jews” and trying to define what that means.
They had us 10 kids quickly, one after the other, and I spent my childhood growing up extremely religious with strict kosher rules, dress codes, and no television, secular music or books (though we were sometimes “bad Chassidic Jews” and cheated with books, and also went as a family to see some movies in Manhattan) – a time I now refer to as the fun “cult days.”
Their experiment with ultra-Orthodox Judaism ultimately didn’t work out for us, and my parents divorced. My mother went back to Montreal to be with her family, and we kids along with her. My father is still Chassidic actually, but I’d say he has his own version of it, and he lives in Vegas now. He is quite a character, and that’s putting it mildly, as is my mother, even more so than in the “typical Jewish parents” way.
In Montreal, we re-integrated into “normal” North American Jewish lifestyles, starting out as Modern Orthodox, but then with varying and changing levels of observance, and each of us being allowed to do our own thing. When I graduated, I was actually going to study law, like all good, smart Jewish girls, but changed my mind at the last second about having a stable life in order to pursue performance and the arts instead.
I got accepted into Studio 58’s professional theatre acting program, so that’s what brought me out here. It was pretty scary because I knew nothing about Vancouver, I knew no one here, and had no money to scout out the city beforehand. After studying, I decided to stay here and started acting and doing comedy. Having been here for several years and because I’m a dual American-Canadian citizen, I recently decided to make the jump to L.A., too, since there is more opportunity there – and, of course, because you can’t beat all that sun and ocean. I love being on the West Coast, though I poke fun at it often, because in many ways I’ll always be a bit of a fish out of water here as an ex-East Coaster. My aim is to try to juggle both cities, L.A. and Vancouver, as much as possible taking advantage of the acting and comedy opportunities both cities have to offer.
As far as other performances Vancouverites may have seen me in, I played Connie in Raving Theatre’s production of My Big Gay Italian Wedding, which was put on at the Cultch. I also played Natalie, in the local independent feature dark comedy, Thirty One Scenes About Nothing, which won best picture at the Oregon Independent Film Festival (OIFF) in Portland. I also perform lots of live stand-up and sketch around town. Last year, I ran a weekly comedy variety show, called The Comedy Cabaret, along with co-host Ruven Klausner, in which we performed various comedy characters and acts. We formed a comedic partnership, previously called Schtuptown (a nod towards our Jewish heritage), now called The Goldie & Ruven Show, in which we perform live and create comedy shorts which are published online.
Exploiting the memory of the Holocaust and its victims is a far too commonplace event. Israel’s detractors accuse it of perpetrating a holocaust on Palestinians. Politicians and others frequently make inappropriate comparisons to the Holocaust. But when the prime minister of Israel – the man who refers to himself as the leader of the Jewish people – exploits the Holocaust, it is especially egregious.
Last week, at the meeting of the World Zionist Congress, Binyamin Netanyahu told a story that historians contend was cut largely from whole cloth. This much is true: in November 1941, the Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, Haj Amin al-Husseini, met with Adolf Hitler in Berlin. Al-Husseini opposed Jewish migration to the Holy Land and rejected the idea of a Jewish state there. Increased Jewish migration to Palestine strengthened Zionism and the grand mufti had been a vocal opponent of it – to the extent that Arab rioting he incited helped form British policy on the matter, closing the doors to Jews escaping Nazi Europe. The mufti and Hitler had mutual interests, but al-Husseini was concerned that Nazi antisemitism could drive more Jews to Palestine (although, by late 1941, this was largely a moot point).
In Netanyahu’s curriculum, though, it was the mufti who put the seed in Hitler’s brain to enact the “Final Solution.” (Perhaps the prime minister had recently read the book Nazis, Islamists and the Making of the Modern Middle East by Barry Rubin and Wolfgang G. Schwanitz, which is reviewed in this issue, but not any of its critiques.)
“Hitler didn’t want to exterminate the Jews at the time,” Netanyahu told the congress. “He wanted to expel the Jews. And Haj Amin al-Husseini went to Hitler and said: ‘If you expel them, they’ll all come here [to Palestine],’ … ’So what should I do with them?’ [Hitler] asked. [Al-Husseini] said, ‘Burn them.’”
There is no evidence that any such discussion took place. In fact, the Nazis’ exterminationist intent was already well formed before al-Husseini came to Berlin. The Wannsee Conference, which set out the plan for the “Final Solution,” was mere weeks away and its agenda was set before the mufti had tea with Hitler.
History suggests that al-Husseini was supportive of the Nazis’ plans, but he certainly was not their architect, as Netanyahu implied.
The prime minister’s speech raised outrage globally. Academics and experts in the Holocaust decried his rewriting of history. Critics claimed his remarks were meant to incite hatred against Palestinians at a time when Israel is condemning Palestinian incitement against Jews. Netanyahu was diminishing Hitler’s guilt for the fate of European Jewry, said others. Even Germany’s leader Angela Merkel reiterated her country’s responsibility for the Holocaust.
It is clear what Netanyahu was trying to do. He wanted to demonstrate that Palestinian antisemitism and incitement against Jews and Israelis go back a long way, and he is correct. But to do so, he apparently made stuff up and, far, far worse, exploited the history of the Holocaust and the memory of its victims to score political points. It was shameful, unbecoming his office, and certainly undermines any claim he has to call himself the leader of the Jewish people.