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An emotional reunion

Randy Wolfe, left, with Aharon Botzer, co-founder of Livnot U’Lehibanot. (photo from Livnot U’Lehibanot)

Reuven (Randy) Wolfe of Winnipeg recently returned to Tzfat, Israel, to reconnect with the founders of Livnot U’Lehibanot and with the place where his Jewish journey began.

Wolfe first arrived in Tzfat in 1981, as a young participant in Livnot’s third-ever program. Now, 44 years later, he and his wife, Beverly Werbuk, walked once again through the same stone alleyways, into the same historic buildings and back into the same spirit that once transformed Wolfe’s life.

“I remember everything,” he shared. “The formula still works: no show, no pretending, just truth, action, open hearts and good people.”

Since that formative experience, Wolfe has built a full life in Canada – family, community and career – yet the spark that was lit in Tzfat has never faded.

“Coming back to Livnot,” he said, “felt like coming home.”

For more than four decades, Livnot U’Lehibanot, founded by Aharon and Miriam Botzer, has guided thousands of young Jews from around the world to connect with their roots through hands-on volunteering, learning and community, including the rebuilding of homes along Israel’s borders.

“The walls may have changed,” Reuven smiled, “but the spirit – that same spirit – is still alive. It continues to build the Jewish people, in Israel and throughout the diaspora.” 

– Courtesy Livnot U’Lehibanot

Visit to cradle of Ashkenaz

Buried next to Maharam of Rothenburg’s grave is Alexander ben Salomon of Wimpfen (known in some sources as Alexander Süsskind Wimpfen) – the man who paid for the release of the rabbi’s remains. (photo by Pat Johnson)

They say that history repeats itself and, if this is true at all, it is perhaps more true for Jewish history. The recent exchange of almost 2,000 imprisoned Palestinian terrorists for the remaining Jewish hostages held in Gaza was an act of moral compromise that has a long lineage. 

Throughout Israeli history, the centrality in Jewish values of the sanctity of life and the respectful burial of the dead have been exploited by the country’s enemies. Yahya Sinwar, the mastermind of the 10/7 pogrom, was himself freed in a 2011 prisoner release that saw more than 1,000 Palestinian terrorists set free in exchange for the freedom of Gilad Shalit, an Israeli held in Gaza for more than five years.

The ransoming of Jews goes back much, much further, however – at least to the very beginning of Ashkenaz.

In a recent brief visit to the German city of Worms, southwest of Frankfurt, I learned of Rabbi Meir of Rothenburg, who was the leading Ashkenazi halakhic authority of the 13th century. Also known as the Maharam of Rothenburg (an acronym of “Moreinu ha-rav Rabbi Meir,” meaning “Our teacher, the rabbi, Rabbi Meir”), he was imprisoned after attempting to leave the Holy Roman Empire around 1286. Jews were legally considered imperial property and valued for their tax revenue. His attempted departure was due to rising oppression, repressive taxes and broader political instability.

His arrest was intended both to prevent Jewish emigration and to extract a massive ransom by holding the most prominent rabbi of the era hostage. Although the Jewish communities were prepared to pay for his release, the Maharam refused to permit an excessive ransom, invoking the talmudic principle that captives should not be redeemed at exorbitant cost lest it encourage future kidnappings. He remained imprisoned until his death in 1293. After death, his body was held for 14 years, until a private individual paid for the release. He was ultimately buried in the Jewish cemetery at Worms.

The cemetery is known as Heiliger Sand, or Holy Sand, and the Maharam’s grave is adorned in mountains of memorial stones. Buried next to him, and also remembered with countless stones, is Alexander ben Salomon of Wimpfen (known in some sources as Alexander Süsskind Wimpfen) – the man who paid for the release of the rabbi’s remains. The parallel graves symbolize the duality of moral sacrifice and restorative compassion.

The Maharam aside, the cemetery is one of the most significant burial sites in the Jewish world. It is the oldest remaining Jewish cemetery in Europe, the earliest grave estimated to date from 1058.  

Worms was one of the central pillars of medieval Jewish civilization because it stood at the heart of Ashkenazi religious, legal and cultural development during the Middle Ages. Together with Mainz and Speyer, Worms was one of the “ShUM cities,” the most important Jewish centres north of the Alps between roughly the 10th and 13th centuries. The ShUM communities created the foundations of Ashkenazi Judaism as it is still practised today. It was one of the earliest Jewish settlements in Central Europe after Jewish migration from the Mediterranean world. It was a cradle of Ashkenazi civilization and the Maharam its most venerated scholar.

Jewish life in Worms became a template for Ashkenazi Jewish communal life, developing the legal customs (minhagim) around marriage, mourning, tzedakah and education that spread throughout Central and Eastern Europe. Even after the devastation of the Crusades and later expulsions, Worms endured in Jewish consciousness and culture. The last burial in the cemetery was in 1942. Miraculously, unlike many other Jewish cemeteries across Europe, this one survived the Shoah relatively intact. 

The symbiosis – if that is the correct word – of Jewish and Christian life in Worms is embodied in the larger dichotomy of European Jewish life. From the cemetery, the main edifice visible outside the grounds is the imposing Worms Cathedral. Worms may be central in Ashkenazi tradition, but it also holds a profound place in Christian history. 

photo - From the cemetery, the main edifice visible outside the grounds is the imposing Worms Cathedral
From the cemetery, the main edifice visible outside the grounds is the imposing Worms Cathedral. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Martin Luther, the 15th-century monk who sparked the Protestant Reformation and drove the most significant schism in Christianity, nailed his 95 theses to the cathedral door in Wittenburg, about 400 kilometres from Worms. Luther’s history intersected with Worms when he was tried at the unappetizingly titled Diet of Worms, in 1521, and found guilty by imperial authorities. Refusing to recant, he became one of history’s most consequential heretics – or spiritual pioneer and reformer, depending on one’s perspective. 

To Jews, Luther is a despotic figure. After effectively inventing Protestant Christianity, Luther was solicitous to the Jews, hoping that the stiff-necked people who had rejected the doctrine of Jesus as purveyed by the Vatican would jump on board the rebranded Lutheran variety. When they overwhelmingly did not, Luther transformed into a ferocious antisemite, putting quill to papyrus in some of history’s most vile racist tirades. 

From the perspective of this history, the cathedral dominating the sightlines of the Holy Sand can be viewed as a place where one of history’s greatest Jew-haters got his comeuppance. Of course, the Catholicism that the building still represents has its own problematic history, to frame it kindly. And, for that matter, Luther landed on his feet, historically speaking.

Visiting the cemetery is a moving experience – with a bizarre and almost laughable twist. 

Unsurprisingly, there were two security personnel seated at a table outside the gate. I attempted to gather some information, but our lack of shared language prevented much conversation. They did motion toward a box of what I thought were face masks, but which turned out to be makeshift kippot. In fact, they were peaked paper caps, the sort that short order cooks at Denny’s might wear. It was an odd experience to be walking around an ancient cemetery looking like I just stepped out of Mel’s Diner. 

We should use caution in making sweeping parallels across history, but it is striking how the enemies of the Jews across the centuries have recognized and exploited the importance of pidyon shvuyim, the redeeming of captives. How many other traditions, I wonder, have prayers in the liturgy for specifically this eventuality? A visit to the Holy Sand reminds us how deep that tradition of exploitation goes. 

The Maccabees, old and new

A postcard featuring the work “In Prayer – In War” by Polish-American artist and cartoonist Mitchell Loeb (1889-1968). (internet photo)

Of all the Jewish holidays, Hanukkah is the one most intimately connected to Israel and the Zionist dream. It mirrors the struggle to reestablish the Jewish state, and is perhaps more political in nature than religious. 

Hanukkah represents Jewish military power and Jewish independence, which, in the case of the Hasmoneans, lasted 80 to 100 years. The Hasmoneans and their fellow second-century BCE Judeans were able to establish a state despite having had to face a strong and well-equipped empire. The odds were heavily stacked against them, yet they prevailed. This is why some people say that the Hanukkah story parallels the struggles and achievements of Israel’s first Jewish residents and founding pioneers, surrounded as they were by hostile neighbours.  

It is hard to claim that the miracle in which a tiny bit of oil lasted, not for one day, but for eight days, is a critical part of an Israeli Hanukkah. However, oil is a crucial part of the holiday. Sufganiyot (filled donuts), fried in oil, go on sale at least a month before the first candle is lit. (I saw them on sale in a Tel Aviv bakery on Nov. 10!) Nowadays, Jerusalem coffee houses and bakeries even have their sufganiyot rated by the media. 

Potato pancakes (levivot, in Hebrew; latkes, in Yiddish) take second place to sufganiyot. Perhaps because levivot are generally products of one’s private kitchen, rather than a bakery, or perhaps because, as an historically Ashkenazi Eastern European food, it appeals to only half the Jewish population in Israel. The other half is Sephardi, meaning people whose long-ago origins were in Iberia, while, in the United States, no more than 10% of the Jewish population is either Sephardi or Mizrachi (Jews who came from Muslim-ruled lands). I couldn’t find any recent figures for Canada’s Jewish population by these measures.

As for levivot, they are no longer made just with potatoes. There might be additions or substitutions like sweet potatoes or zucchini, featuring spices such as cumin and paprika.

As many know, Israel’s climate is well suited to growing olives, and olive trees have grown here for centuries. The trees like the semi-arid climate, with our long, hot, sunny summers and mild, cool winters, as well as Israel’s rocky terrain. Generally, Israeli-grown olives are ready for picking starting just before Hanukkah. There are olive-picking festivals and such events highlight another difference between diasporic and Israeli  observances of Hanukkah. 

Those living in pre-state Palestine knew what Hitler was doing in Europe. According to historian Benny Morris,  the Jewish population in Palestine was reading several newspapers at the time, like Ha’aretz, Davar and Do’ar ha-Yom.

The pre-1948 cultural products reflect not only what Palestinian Zionists knew about the fate of European Jewry, but also an ideological effort at creating a new national character. This “new” Jew would not be a victim. He would be a kind of new Maccabee. According to historian Reuven Firestone, the new Zionist Jew would be strong, confident and effective, and the very act of developing the land of Israel would, in turn, develop the Jewish psyche and person.

So, Hanukkah songs written in either the pre-state or early statehood days focus on the success of Zionist fighters more than they do the accomplishments of the Maccabees. In 1936, Menashe Ravina composed the song “Mi Yimalel.” Its lyrics are: “Who can retell the mighty deeds of Israel, who can count them? / In every generation a hero will arise, a redeemer for the people. / Listen! / In those days in this time / The Maccabee saves and redeems / And in our day the whole people of Israel / Will join together and arise and be redeemed.”

In the 1940s, Sara Levi Tanay wrote the words and Emanuel Amiran wrote the music for “Ba’anu Choshech Legaresh.” The idea is that, by banding together, the state can survive: “In our hands are light and fire. / Each person is a small light, / And all of us a great light. / Go away darkness, away, obscurity! / Make way for the light.”

Starting in the 1940s, the Young Maccabees organization began a torch race on Hanukkah. This race was unique to Israel’s celebration of the holiday. It began in the Modi’in area, where it is believed the Maccabees are buried, and was held in all kinds of weather. In December 1954, for example, when the runners reached Jerusalem, it was pouring rain. Israeli youth organizations like the Scouts hold marches and hikes on Hanukkah. 

Ironically, the original torch races, called lampadedromia or lampas, took place in ancient Greece, as part of religious festivals honouring the gods of fire. I say ironically, as the Maccabees fought for their independence from the Syrian Greeks of the Seleucid Empire, which was a Greek successor state to Alexander the Great’s empire. The Seleucid empire, under Antiochus, ruled over Judea. It desecrated the Temple in Jerusalem and sought to forcefully impose Hellenistic culture and religion on the Jewish population.

Today, in both Israel and in the diaspora, chocolate coins, usually wrapped in gold or silver foil – the 1920s brainstorm product of Loft Chocolate Company – are given to children during Hanukkah. Probably not too many people are aware of this, but, according to Rabbi Deborah Prinz, this edible gelt (money, in Yiddish) recalls the booty, including coins, that the Maccabees distributed to Jewish widows, soldiers and orphans, possibly at the first celebration of the rededication of the Jerusalem Temple. Also, in ancient Israel, striking, minting and distributing coins expressed Hanukkah’s message of political autonomy. The Maccabees’ descendants, the Hasmoneans, ruled Judea, as mentioned above, and issued their own coins.

Finally, a column in the Great Mosque of Gaza once bore inscriptions in Hebrew and depicted a seven-branched menorah (like the one used in the Temple), a shofar and an etrog, indicating a Jewish community in the area during the Roman/Byzantine and talmudic eras. These inscriptions apparently disappeared after the First Intifada in 1987. The Hanukkah menorah, or hanukkiyah, by contrast, has nine branches, commemorating the eight days the oil burned in the rededicated Temple, plus a shamash (helper) candle to do the lighting of the symbolic candles. 

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.

My Hanukkah miracle

Last year, a great miracle happened here:  Beaver Point Hall on Salt Spring Island. (photo by R. Shefa)

Hanukkah is a celebratory festival with oodles of delicious food – mostly fried – songs, candles and gatherings.

It is also considered a miracle festival. Jews rededicated the Second Temple when a small amount of oil for the Temple menorah lasted for eight days. This is why we eat fried foods, such as potato latkes and melt-in-your-mouth donuts, which also increases our calorie consumption, so we sigh with relief on the last day of the holiday.

Personally, I consider any day that runs smoothly from beginning to end a miracle. Take this past Hanukkah, when I lost a hearing aid on Salt Spring Island.

I had been invited to sing at a Hanukkah party. Although it was a dark, stormy night, my husband and I were excited to meet the locals and unwind in the quaint and character-filled Beaver Point Hall. At 92 years old, the hall has been a regular staple in the community. It hosts a diverse range of activities, such as concerts, workshops, kids programs, dancing and weddings.

A large fire welcomed us and there were some 20 hanukkiyot waiting to be lit before the large potluck dinner began. However, despite numerous announcements to kindly wait until the candles were lit and blessings made, the crowd plunged into the myriad dishes: salads, kugels, mung bean hummus (hey, this is Salt Spring), perogies, lasagna, homemade breads. The volunteer latke makers rushed to serve the latkes.

The hall acoustics became poor, so I took out one hearing aid and placed it in my purse. I could now hear my voice clearly for singing.

As I headed to the smaller room to tune the guitar, the remaining left hearing aid, still in my ear, made its usual beeps to inform me that I had left an aid behind. I ignored it.

After a very pleasant evening, we made the 20-minute trek home to the other side of the island. My hearing aid did not.

After tearing through my handbag, guitar case and car, it was officially not with me. There were only two places it could be: at the hall, or in the garbage, which would have been carted to one of the volunteer’s homes.

We were leaving at noon the next day, so an urgent search was necessary. But the hall was closed and my friend was not answering her phone. After much thought, I Googled the hall’s website. It displayed the calendar with all the rentals, including a dance improv the next day.

Miracle #1: the dance improv’s contact information was on Facebook.

Miracle #2: the organizer responded to my request and messaged back that the hall would open at 9 a.m. for the cleaners.

Miracle #3: after several texts, the organizer decided it was safe to give me the lock code to enter. And so we did. At 11 p.m., my kind husband, Steve, drove me back to the hall, as it’s a bit tricky to drive in the dark on rough roads, with deer occasionally darting out and heavy rain falling.

Steve parked the car so the headlights shone on the lock code and I was inside. Finding the light switches took a good few minutes and I never did find the kitchen ones. I headed to the stage, where my purse had been. Nothing but a few decorations. And then, suddenly, my left hearing aid, still firmly in my ear, began to beep with excitement – its partner was in the hall!

Steve joined the search. My left hearing aid clutched to his ear, he looked in every possible nook. He got excited. When he walked into the middle of the room, he said the beeping was loudest there. If someone had walked into the hall at that point, they probably would have thought there were two aliens loose.

What motivated me to look under an electric outlet, I will never know, but that’s where I found my hearing aid – completely covered by some Hanukkah gelt wrappers, most likely swept under them by one of the volunteers.

It was truly the best Hanukkah miracle! 

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

Vive la différence!

French is one of the main languages one hears on the streets of multicultural Jerusalem today, along with Hebrew, Arabic, English and Russian. More than 2,170 French Jews moved to Israel in 2024. The number in 2025 is projected to exceed 3,000. The wave of aliyah – driven by antisemitism and violence targeting Jews – has resulted in the establishment of scores of new patisseries, boulangeries and charcuteries – all kosher. Seen here is Foodies on Yoel Moshe Salomon Street. Nearby is Napoleon, one in a cluster of gourmet restaurants in Kikar Hamusica (Place de la Musique), established by former Parisian Laurent Levy, who is building Le Grand Hôtel.  

Fresh, healthy comfort foods

Nico Pallota’s Greek Orzo Salad. (photo from hilltoprecipes.com)

My house, my rules. And those rules were recently transformed. No more fatty foods, no more carbs, no more booze. OK, an amendment is in order. Fewer fatty foods, fewer and more curated carbs, and still no booze. Apparently, I am my husband’s keeper, as far as food goes. Or, at least, food he consumes in our home. If he sneaks out for a sabich, it’s beyond my control. But, at home, I’m the food boss. Or, at least, while I’m awake. What Harvey does in the middle of the night or when I’m not around is another story. One that rarely ends well.

Lest I sound like an ogre or a nag-wife, let me assure you that I am both. But in a good way. I only want my hubby to be healthy and live a long life – if my nagging doesn’t kill him first, G-d forbid. I know, I know, I should stay in my own lane. But hey, don’t the rules of engagement (and marriage) stipulate that we look out for each other’s health and welfare? I’m sticking to that theory like velcro.

In the service of eating healthier meals, I found a refreshing hearty salad that will not only fill you up, but satisfy your tastebuds. Salads often present as side dishes, but this one can easily stand independently and confidently as a main dish. I found the recipe on one of my forays down the rabbit hole of Instagram. This super-easy recipe for Greek Orzo Salad with Marinated Chickpeas (by Nico Pallotta) jumped out at me as something that doesn’t call for a bunch of fancy-pants ingredients. It’s certifiably healthy, contains a respectable amount of protein (thanks to the feta cheese and chickpeas) and is ridiculously refreshing. Note: I omitted the onion, since onions and I have a love-hate relationship. Mostly hate.

GREEK ORZO SALAD WITH MARINATED CHICKPEAS

1 1/4 cup orzo pasta
1 can chickpeas (15oz/400g)
1 1/2 cups cherry tomatoes, halved or quartered
1 1/2 cups Persian cucumbers, diced
1/2 red onion, chopped (optional)
1/3 cup pitted Kalamata olives
4oz/100g feta cheese, crumbled 

dressing
4 tbsp extra virgin olive oil
2 tbsp lemon juice and lemon zest
1 tbsp honey
1 tbsp Dijon mustard
1 1/2 tsp dried oregano
1/2 tsp salt and black pepper

In a bowl, whisk together all the dressing ingredients – olive oil, lemon juice and zest, honey, mustard, oregano, salt and pepper until smooth. Add the chickpeas (drained and rinsed), toss to coat and let sit 10 minutes. If you warm the chickpeas for 15-30 seconds in the microwave before tossing them with the dressing, they will soak up more flavour.

Boil the orzo pasta in salted water until al dente. Drain, rinse under cold water for 10 seconds and shake off excess water. Let it cool.

Add the cherry tomatoes, cucumber, red onion, olives and feta cheese to the chickpeas and dressing, and toss. Mix in the cooled orzo and serve right away or chill for 30 to 60 minutes for a more melded flavour.

This salad is a nice break from heavier meals that feature more aggressive proteins like meat or chicken. Never thought I’d anthropomorphize meat, but there it is. Harvey pronounced it “guest-worthy” (his highest accolade). He graciously told me I could make it anytime.

Colourful and vibrant, you can serve it with a baguette or sourdough bread and you’ve got yourself a complete meal. It keeps well in the fridge overnight, if you happen to have any left over. If you insist on consuming more protein, a light piece of salmon would pair nicely with it, or maybe a bowl of soup. I would rarely consider a salad a full-fledged dinner, as I’m a hardcore meat-and-potatoes kind of gal, but, in this case, it really did fill me up.

As for other nourishment, I recently stumbled upon an easy and luscious butternut squash soup recipe. It’s basically a sheet pan soup, where you roast the veggies, transfer them to a pot, add broth and then blend. Harvey proclaimed it “the world’s best soup!” (exclamation mark included).

BUTTERNUT SQUASH SOUP
(adapted from Sivan’s Kitchen on Instagram)

1 medium butternut squash
3 yams, peeled
4-5 carrots, peeled
tiny piece of white onion (since onion hates me)
1 whole garlic head with top cut off
2-inch piece of ginger,  sliced thin
7 cups chicken broth
olive oil
salt and pepper
cinnamon

Preheat the oven to 400˚F. Line a cookie sheet with parchment paper and lightly drizzle with olive oil. Peel the carrots and rub with olive oil. Drizzle the garlic head with oil and wrap in foil.

Soften the squash by putting it in the microwave for two minutes – make sure to poke it with a knife a few times to let the steam escape. 

Cut the squash and yams in half lengthwise (scoop out and discard the squash seeds), rub with olive oil, then season with salt, pepper and cinnamon.

Place the veggies cut side down on lightly oiled parchment. Add the onion, ginger and foil-wrapped garlic. Bake for one hour.

Scoop out the squash and put all the veggies into a large pot. Squeeze out the baked garlic into the pot. Add chicken broth and simmer for about 15 minutes, breaking up the roasted veggies. Let it cool a bit then puree it.

This soup is so silky smooth that you’d swear there was cream in it, but no cream was poured (or harmed) in its making. I swear. If there was ever a fall comfort food, this is it. According to Sivan’s Kitchen, the soup’s Israeli name is marak katom (orange soup). In whatever language, it’s spectacular. I think the cinnamon puts it over the top. So, stop wasting time and get your gourd on! 

Shelley Civkin, aka the Accidental Balabusta, is a happily retired librarian and communications officer. For 17 years, she wrote a weekly book review column for the Richmond Review. She’s currently a freelance writer and volunteer.

Lessons in Mamdani’s win

Zohran Mamdani, the new mayor of New York City, was a controversial candidate who won, in part, because of a campaign focused on local concerns, and not global politics. (photo by Kara McCurdy / commons.wikimedia.org)

New York City just elected as mayor Zohran Mamadani, an anti-Zionist who has been dogged by accusations of antisemitism. Recent civic elections in Canada, on the other hand, had brighter news for Jewish and pro-Israel observers, according to Emile Scheffel, managing director of CJPAC, the Canadian Jewish Political Affairs Committee.

Scheffel presented an online briefing Nov. 14 on how Mamdani won, what it means and how Canadian voters in several cities sent somewhat different messages. 

During his campaign, Mamdani responded emotionally to accusations that he is antisemitic. In the end, according to exit polls, he received votes from about one in three Jewish New Yorkers and was endorsed by numerous prominent Jewish individuals, as well as organizations like Jewish Voice for Peace Action, the political arm of the anti-Zionist group Jewish Voice for Peace.

“When you have this kind of a movement running cover for Mr. Mamdani, it became relatively easy for him to skate past those or to push through those allegations of antisemitism,” Scheffel said. “I don’t know what’s in Mr. Mamdani’s heart. I don’t genuinely know exactly what he believes. But I’m a firm believer that you can tell a lot about a person’s character from the people with whom they choose to associate.”

Scheffel noted a controversy in which Mamdani was photographed with Imam Siraj Wahhaj, who the US justice system calls an unindicted co-conspirator in the 1993 Al-Qaeda bombing attack on the World Trade Centre in New York City. Mamdani later chose not to distance himself from the imam.

Another controversy that dogged Mamdani was his hesitation to condemn the slogan “Globalize the intifada.”

“He repeatedly refused to condemn that language,” said Scheffel. “I want to again be fair by acknowledging that there are different interpretations of what ‘Globalize the intifada’ means, depending on the context. But I am a believer … that there is a great deal of evidence that ‘Globalize the intifada’ is first and foremost a call for violence against Jews and against Jewish institutions and individuals.

“But here’s the catch,” said Scheffel. 

Prior to the mayoral election, Scheffel “did a pretty deep dive” on Mamdani’s website, looking for keywords like “Israel,” “Palestine” and “Gaza.”

He found nothing, because the Mamdani website and the campaign’s broader messaging was laser-focused on the core theme of affordability and lowering the cost of living for working-class New Yorkers.

Scheffel shared statistics about housing costs and other expenses in New York City.

“You can start,” he said, “to understand how he built a coalition of people who are primarily motivated not by Mamdani’s views on the Middle East, not by his relationship or lack thereof with members of the Jewish community, but by what he promised to do for the future of New York City and the people living there.”

In contrast, Scheffel, who has extensive background in political communications and issues management, skewered the website and messaging of Mamdani’s prime opponent, former New York governor Andrew Cuomo. He said Cuomo’s campaign website was filled with mixed messages and meaningless jargon.

“If I can’t figure out what the candidate is trying to tell me, how would I trust them to have a clear vision or a reasonable plan to tackle the issues that are facing me and that are facing the city?” he asked. “Mamdani, whatever you think about him, ran an extremely effective campaign that’s in line with all the best practices we would recommend to a candidate running for any office anywhere.”

While many Jews have been tuned in to politics in the largest American city, they may have overlooked other elections closer to home.

Municipalities in Quebec voted on Nov. 2. In Montreal, which Scheffel noted has been home to some of this country’s most worrying incidents of antisemitism, and in some other communities, activists tried to make the Israeli-Palestinian conflict an election issue by asking candidates to sign a so-called “anti-apartheid pledge” and commit to cutting ties with the state of Israel.

The eventual winner of the election, Soraya Martinez Ferrada, Montreal’s new mayor, refused to sign the pledge and was accused by opponents of complicity in genocide. In addition to her victory, her party won a majority of seats on city council, after a campaign in which they pledged to take seriously law enforcement and public safety, including a crackdown on protesters that Scheffel said include extremist elements that make Montrealers unsafe.

“That was a vision that ultimately proved to be compelling and appealing to the largest number of Montrealers,” he said. 

A few days earlier, on Oct. 20, Calgary also elected a new civic government.

The incumbent had declined to attend the annual menorah lighting ceremony at Calgary City Hall, claiming it was too pro-Israel and too political, said Scheffel, who lives in the city. 

“She was rejected by 80% of voters,” he said. “She became the first mayor in 45 years in Calgary not to win a second term. That happened not because she didn’t show up to a menorah lighting or because she made every effort, frankly, to isolate the Jewish community at a time when the Jewish community needed support from elected leaders. She lost – and she lost in such a crushing fashion – because voters believed that she had failed to tackle the everyday quality-of-life, cost-of-living issues that are facing people here in Calgary.”

Jeromy Farkas, the new mayor, won narrowly, with the incumbent mayor placing third.

Scheffel made the case that none of these campaigns pivoted on issues of foreign affairs but were determined mostly by voters who wanted potholes filled and cities to run efficiently. He then made a case for engagement in the political process, noting that many of the elections turned on very small vote counts. Farkas, for example, won the Calgary mayor’s race by fewer than 400 votes after a recount. 

CJPAC engages Jewish Canadians in the political process and encourages them to build strong relationships between the Jewish community and elected officials across parties, said Scheffel. Close races like some recent municipal elections, he said, underscore the impact an individual can have in the process by volunteering as little as two hours of their time to a campaign. 

West Van Story at the York

The cast of Theatre Replacement’s East Van Panto: West Van Story, left to right: Tom Pickett, Ben Brown, Ivy Charles and Meaghan Chenosky. (photo by Emily Cooper Photography)

If you want a ticket to East Van Panto: West Van Story, you’d better move fast. At press time, the show had just opened and most performances at the York Theatre were already sold out.

Theatre Replacement’s romp for all ages is inspired by Romeo and Juliet this year. The annual event is popular for many reasons, including a consistently stellar creative team and talented actors, its local flavour and political bent. 

In East Van Panto: West Van Story, written by Marcus Youssef with Pedro Chamale, a tsunami strands West Van influencer Holly and her curling team in East Van, where she falls for Joes – a member of their sworn rivals. Adding to her troubles is her mega-developer “motherfather,” Boberta Rainy. The question is will Holly “follow her heart – and Joes – into a new world of love, dance battles and civic resistance? Or will Boberta’s towers and renovictions crush everything in their path?”

“It’s really fun to be part of a show that takes being silly so seriously,” technical director Daniel O’Shea told the Independent in a recent interview.

O’Shea has been involved with the Panto for a few years now.

“The creative team will come up with such wacky characters and gags, and then we have to earnestly sit around the table and figure them out,” he said. “My first year with Theatre Replacement’s East Van Panto, we had to have the king of the skunks shoot a ‘Stink Canon 9000’ into the audience – who wouldn’t enjoy coming up with that?! Also, because the Panto is a new satire every year, getting to be part of a show that speaks to the current community concerns from a local perspective always feels like a breath of fresh air.”

O’Shea first worked with Theatre Replacement on a show called MINE, which, he said, “was a performance that took place half on stage and half in Minecraft. I was colleagues with a number of the devisors on the show and we needed to build some systems for controlling the projection integrating the video input from multiple gaming computers and building in game cues. As part of that show, we built a tech booth in Minecraft and I had little avatar who would run around and hit in game buttons to teleport people or spawn creatures; it was quite fun. I guess I mention it because the pleasure in working with Theatre Replacement is that I’ll often be solving unorthodox problems or working in novel ways.”

The biggest challenge of working on the Panto, he said, is its size.

“We want East Van Panto to feel like a big show, with clever sets and big costumes and arresting moments, and we often succeed, but all of that has to fit into quite a small container,” he explained. “The York Theatre is a wonderful home and we love being there, but we are often pushing the limit of what we can fit onto the stage. It often requires extremely thoughtful planning and clever technical solutions to achieve this big story book mise en scène in a converted movie theatre. We are grateful to our partners at the Cultch and the tech team there that help to pull it off each year.”

photo - Daniel O’Shea
Daniel O’Shea (photo from Theatre Replacement)

O’Shea has a bachelor of fine art from Simon Fraser University, where he majored in theatre performance and film production. 

“I’ve always had a love of both film and stage since I was a kid, fostered by my parents taking us out to shows, and a somewhat onerous VHS mail arrangement through which we received dozens of old back catalogue titles. Though they present quite differently now, both film and theatre share so much DNA, going to back to early cinema. That particular artist-alchemy of narrative, imagination, character, emotion, etc., that both seek has always been something I’ve been drawn to create.”

He gave a shout out to his high school, Burnaby North, and to Alison Schamberger and Phil Byrne, who ran the theatre and media arts program. “They were both instrumental to instilling the sense that creating in both fields was possible, valuable and worthy,” he said.

Career-wise, O’Shea has focused on lighting and projection design, filmmaking and technical direction. He has done some performing, but not for about 10 years now. Nonetheless, his acting experience continues to help his work, in that it allows him to have a fuller sense of the world a show creates.

“It’s possible to get overly engrossed in the issues that feel pertinent to one’s role, like the efficiency of technical rehearsal or the familiarity of ‘how things are done’ and miss the chance to allow for creative risk-taking and imagination,” he said. “Having that performance background helps remind me that achieving the desired audience experience during a show is the goal rather than whether your plan going into tech looks like what’s on stage opening night.”

O’Shea is also a founding member of A Wake of Vultures, with Nancy Tam and Conor Wylie. 

“It’s a vehicle for us to make work that is true to our artistic core,” said O’Shea. “The three of us work as freelance designers/ artists in the broader community and convene together when someone has a juicy idea. 

“Working as a freelancer, you are often given creative agency, I mean it’s clearly part of what you are there for, but it’s often within the constraints of the production or the shows’ genre/esthetics. If it’s a play about a character journey, then the design has to serve that. When we work together in A Wake of Vultures, we really get to dream wildly as designers/conceptual thinkers and follow our process…. That freedom to dream and build ways of affecting the audience before serving other elements of the show is deeply enjoyable.”

Currently, A Wake of Vultures is working on a piece called SweatCry, “which will be some sort of structured social experience investigating ecstasy, purgation and dance,” said O’Shea. “I’m also going on tour with Jade Circle, a show on which I did the projection design, made by Jasmine Chen, which is a beautiful show tracing the cascading chain of mother-daughter relationship and stories buried within our own families.”

O’Shea described his own connection to Judaism and Jewish community as “cultural and fostered through the deep networks that I’ve grown up a part of and, yet, it feels most represented by the Groucho Marx line, ‘I wouldn’t want to belong to a club that would have me as a member’ – a belonging and exclusion at the same time. That, or Moses’ line about being a ‘stranger in a strange land.’ There is a tension in being a tribe of the estranged that has meaning to me, both in the way that it seats one in relationship to the world and in how it asks of you to make kinship with ‘the stranger.’

“I think it is also the reason why I have such a love of ritual,” he concluded. “Whether it’s in a show or a meal of special ceremony, the sense that formal choices, of how to do things, can have deep symbolic and historical ties, and be a thread that links people across time really moves me … both of these facets of my Jewish identity shape my life and work.”

For tickets to East Van Panto: West Van Story, which is directed by Chelsea Haberlin, with music by Veda Hille, go to thecultch.com. There are shows through Jan. 4.

Words hold much power

At an event hosted by the National Council of Canadian Muslims on Nov. 1, Toronto’s Mayor Olivia Chow said, “the genocide in Gaza impacts us all.” 

Four days later, protesters attacked a group of Jewish students from Toronto Metropolitan University at an event featuring a speaker who served in the Israel Defence Forces during the recent Gaza war.

Is this cause and effect? Did Chow’s words give a kind of permission for anti-Israel activists to act out violently?

Human nature doesn’t work so neatly. Suggesting one directly led to the other is both unprovable and probably specious.

Both of these incidents, however, are part of a larger zeitgeist.

For (at least) two years, Israel has been accused of monstrous barbarities. Accusations against the Jewish state include deliberate starvation, ethnic cleansing, intentional mass killings, wanton destruction of infrastructure and other assorted war crimes.

There are legitimate debates around the definitions of terms and whether or how they apply to recent events in Gaza. However, public discussions, as Chow demonstrated, rarely reflect these nuances.

As a society, we now widely accept that incendiary language can lead to incendiary actions. In discussions around immigration levels, for example, responsible public figures generally engage in discourse that does not demonize migrants or new Canadians. Concerns have been raised in recent years around the tenor of discussion around transgender issues, with advocates warning that some of the language can exacerbate emotional isolation, especially in transgender youth, and can lead to suicide ideation. Words, it is widely accepted, can have tangible, indelible impacts.

This thoughtfulness seems nowhere to be found when Jews and allies warn that the provocative language against the Jewish state is having serious impacts on Jews in Canada.

While cause and effect are rarely provable, correlations can be clearer. Over the past two years, combustible rhetoric against Israel has coincided with an unprecedented spike in antisemitic acts against Jewish institutions and people. One would think, under the circumstances, that reasonable people might see the potential that one is at least somewhat related to the other.

Raise this possibility, though, and you can expect to be met with assertions that “Zionists” are trying to silence criticism of Israel or that there is a “chill” on discussion of urgent and legitimate international matters.

This is an admirable defence of free speech. It is interesting, though, that concepts of almost unfettered free expression seem to be the redoubt of Israel critics who accept limitations on civil discourse in a vast range of other topic areas.

Is it a coincidence, also, that the very concept of “Zionists” controlling what other people are permitted to think and say about Israel dovetails with traditional antisemitic concepts of Jewish power and control?

What everyone should be able to accept – because the evidence is plain – is that there is a parallel between the intensity of rhetoric against Israel and increasing attacks on Jews in Canada (and elsewhere).

Toronto’s mayor is just one of many Canadian leaders who should know better than to nonchalantly toss around accusations, understanding that the pitch of condemnation against Israel is having concrete impacts on Jews in Canada.

Anyone with a public platform should behave in ways that recognize the intended and potentially unintended consequences of their words. A mayor of a Canadian city, for example, should know that her words will have limited effect on the lives of Palestinians, but plenty of impacts here at home.

In a diverse country like Canada, where inclusivity is considered a core value, people in positions of respect and power have a duty to act responsibly, to promote unity and avoid phrases that might inflame community tensions. 

Did Chow’s words directly lead to the violent attack on Jewish students this month? Almost certainly not. 

But they contributed to an environment already aggravated with tension and peril.

Plenty of hopefulness

Avi Benlolo of the Abraham Global Peace Initiative was in Vancouver Nov. 5 to screen the AGPI’s new film, Heart of Courage, about Jewish resilience in the wake of the Oct. 7, 2023, terror attacks. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Against a “tsunami” of anti-Israel and antisemitic content online and in the broader society, Jews and pro-Israel voices need to do a better job getting their message out, according to Avi Benlolo.

Benlolo is founding chair and chief executive officer of the Abraham Global Peace Initiative (AGPI), whose mandate is to study and research international human rights, fundamental freedoms, democracy, global peace and civil society in Canada, Israel and around the world. He was previously founding president and CEO of Friends of Simon Wiesenthal Centre and writes weekly in the 

National Post. He was in Vancouver screening AGPI’s new 40-minute film, Heart of Courage and spoke with Rabbi Jonathan Infeld at Congregation Beth Israel Nov. 5. He was introduced by Diane Friedman, the congregation’s adult program director. 

The film features a soldier playing John Lennon’s “Imagine” on a piano in Tel Aviv’s Hostages Square.

“His music becomes his voice, a testament to the resilience of his spirit and the strength of his people,” the narrator intones. “His teary eyes remain wide open, reflecting the weight of his generation’s struggle. He plays for a world he longs to see, a world of peace. In that moment, his dreams reach beyond the darkness, yet his resolve remains unshaken. This soldier is part of a chain, a line of defenders stretching back through history, each bound by an unyielding commitment to Israel’s survival.”

Produced prior to the ceasefire, the film includes Benlolo interviewing people at the weekly rallies that drew hundreds of thousands of people in Tel Aviv, many of them family members of hostages. Some have risen to prominence as voices for those held in Gaza and their relatives.

Benlolo visits an art installation that serves as a memorial monument adjacent to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs’ building in Jerusalem. The work, titled “Memory Pomegranate 7.10.2023,” is a sculpture of a pomegranate with multi-coloured glass and ceramics, visual shards and fragments that metaphorically reference broken lives, trauma and loss, but together form a hopeful whole, emphasizing life, resilience and collective memory. The artwork integrates electronic tags that allow a smartphone or other device to access digital content to learn more about the events of 10/7 and the people and communities affected.

Sharing stories of non-Jews who saved lives on 10/7, the film declares, “In Israel, heroism knows no bounds of religion, ethnicity or background. On Oct. 7, amid the chaos, countless stories emerged of Muslims, Druze, Christians and Bedouins risking everything to protect their fellow citizens.” 

After the screening, Benlolo and Infeld spoke of the hurdles to getting the message out.

Benlolo, who has worked extensively in multicultural and interfaith sectors, plans to screen Heart of Courage for diverse audiences, as his organization has done with previous films.

The biggest challenge, Benlolo said, may be reaching younger audiences, for whom anti-Israel activism has become “cool.”

“We have to go to them and get to them through the technology that exists today,” he said. “Social media in particular.”

This presents its own challenges, he noted, as there is a “tsunami” of anti-Israel and antisemitic content.

The silver lining of this era, according to Benlolo, is a new generation of engaged Jewish young people.

“What we all saw as a result of Oct. 7 was Jewish youth for the first time ever walking proudly with Magen Davids around their necks, fighting back, distancing themselves from people who have rejected them and reject the state of Israel,” he said.

While the film paints a picture of a unified Israeli society, Benlolo acknowledged divisions, rifts that will likely be exacerbated in next year’s national elections. 

One of the most visible points of discord is the debate over Haredi conscription. Benlolo is unequivocal on this topic. Asked by Infeld what he would say to the Haredi community, Benlolo said, “What’s wrong with you? I mean, honestly.… To not participate in defending the country and to insist that others do it for you, I think, is wrong.”

Benlolo also pulled no punches on issues closer to home. He said Canada’s government is “pretty much siding with Hamas” and other leaders, such as Toronto’s mayor, are “emboldening the other side.” This inspires violent people to act out, he said, citing a vicious attack on Jewish students near Toronto Metropolitan University earlier that day.

“What gives them permission to do that?” Benlolo asked. “It’s the environment that feeds it. It’s the political leadership that allows it. That is the central problem.” 

Responding to a question from Infeld on the future of Jewish life in Canada, Benlolo noted that Jewish schools and other institutions in parts of Europe are protected by armed guards and he warned that North American Jews may find themselves “in a much more defensive posture.”

“I can’t promise you that there’s going to be a good future here in Canada,” he said. “But, in Israel, at least, we have an ability to wear the uniform and protect ourselves, and that’s an important distinction. It doesn’t mean Israel is 100% safe, as we all know, it doesn’t mean that’s an easy life, but at least it’s a place where we can stand up for ourselves.”

He has plenty of hopefulness for Israel.

“I think that the next chapter for Israel is an optimistic one,” he said, suggesting that more countries will normalize relations with Israel and join the Abraham Accords. He suggests also that Israel’s economy will skyrocket, in part because of all the technology developed as a result of the war. He also predicts continued increasing levels of aliyah.