The Foundation for Jewish Camp serves more than 155 Jewish summer camps, close to 80,000 campers and 11,000 counselors across North America every summer. Among its initiatives is the One Happy Camper program, which is run in partnership with Jewish federations – including in Montreal, Toronto and Calgary – foundations, PJ Library, and camps across North America. The program provides incentive grants of up to $1,000 to children attending nonprofit, Jewish overnight camp for the first time, with the intention of introducing more children to the magic of Jewish camp.
Based on the 2010 study by the FJC, Camp Works: The Long Term Impact of Jewish Overnight Camp, there is evidence that overnight Jewish camp is a proven means of building Jewish identity, community and leadership. As adults, campers are 30% more likely to donate to a Jewish federation, 37% more likely to light candles regularly on Shabbat, 45% more likely to attend synagogue at least once a month, and 55% more likely to feel emotionally attached to Israel. As well, one of three Jewish professionals (rabbis, cantors, teachers) started out as counselors at Jewish camp; one of five Jewish educators cited Jewish camp as a key experience that caused them to enter the field; and seven of 10 young Jewish leaders in their 20s and 30s attended Jewish summer camp.
North American Jewish overnight summer camps reach 77,000+ camp-aged children every summer, but this represents only 10% of eligible camp-age kids. In the FJC’s efforts to grow enrolment and increase awareness, FJC created the One Happy Camper program, thanks to the generosity of an anonymous donor. The program’s singular mission is to increase the number of children benefiting from the transformative experience of Jewish summer camp. Aimed at attracting new campers who do not have daily, immersive exposure to Judaism, the program provides financial incentives to encourage parents to choose nonprofit overnight Jewish summer camp over other summer options.
Since the success of the 2006 pilot, the One Happy Camper program has expanded across North America. To date, 64,000 campers have experienced Jewish overnight camp as a result of FJC’s partnership with 40 community-based organizations (federations/foundations), four national camp movements, 30 individual camps, the Harold Grinspoon Foundation’s PJ Goes to Camp program and the Jim Joseph Foundation-funded JWest program.
Of One Happy Camper grant recipients, six out of 10 would have stayed home or attendeda non-Jewish summer experience, and one out of three OHC recipients’ parents had not attended Jewish camp – FJC knows that parents who attended Jewish camp are more likely to send their own kids, so the grants are instilling a new legacy of Jewish camping for families.
Surveys show that OHC recipients enjoy their summers at camp as much as their peers, in that they say they found the experience of value and would likely recommend it. As well, they are as likely to return to camp. In fact, 82% of OHC recipients return to camp for a second summer. And their experience is infused with Jewish education, identity and connections: 97% feel that camps create an atmosphere where children are proud to be Jewish and 36% of recipients increased their participation in Jewish activities after their first summer at camp.
The majority of OHC families (63%) are not members or donors of their sponsoring organization but, as a result of the OHC grant, 78% of OHC parents feel more positive about their family’s connection to the Jewish community and 72% of OHC parents feel that they are more likely to support their sponsoring organization.
These are just some of the results found in the Foundation for Jewish Camp publication Communities Investing in the Future One Happy Camper at a Time. To read more, go to jewishcamp.org/community-partners and click on “Download ‘Communities Investing in the Future’ (PDF).”
A vigil in solidarity with Israel took place on the Dayton Street pedestrian overpass in Kelowna on Nov. 19. (photo from vigil organizers)
About 100 people held a vigil in solidarity with Israel in Kelowna on Nov. 19, which proceeded without incident.
The two-hour gathering on the Dayton Street pedestrian overpass, which straddles Highway 97, was organized by members of the Jewish community, following a series of peaceful pro-Palestinian demonstrations since Hamas’s Oct. 7 attack on Israel.
The organizer (who asked that their name be withheld because of security concerns) said that, in addition to community members, the participants included representatives of at least two churches, as well as Kelowna city councilor Ron Cannan, a former Conservative member of Parliament for Kelowna-Lake Country.
The vigil was encouraged by Rabbi Shmuly Hecht, director of the Okanagan Chabad Centre, who led men present in the putting on of tefillin in a display of Jewish confidence.
The organizer said the pro-Israel public demonstration was the first of its kind in the area. The main purpose was twofold: to give the area’s small Jewish population an opportunity to unite and have its voice heard and to show other citizens that there is “another side” to the Israel-Hamas conflict not reflected by the public activities of Palestinian supporters.
One week earlier, around 300 people held a pro-Palestinian demonstration that started on the steps of the courthouse and concluded with a march. That event, which received local media coverage, was organized by the Okanagan chapter of Canadians for Peace and Justice in the Middle East, a Montreal-based anti-Israel lobby group.
The organizer said they and the other organizers decided not to alert the media to their event in order to avoid attracting any conflict with the other camp. There were no tensions, and the only show of disagreement came from a motorist driving under the overpass displaying a Palestinian flag and honking, they said.
There were a few honks of apparent approval and passersby did engage with those in the crowd, asking questions, they added.
The demonstrators carried Israeli and Canadian flags, and placards mostly reading “We stand with Israel” and “Bring them home now,” referring to the hostages taken by Hamas,but also “Hamas (equals) ISIS” and “Rape is not resistance.”
The organizer said those supporting the Palestinians and condemning Israel are getting attention in the Okanagan because of the frequency of their protests and the media coverage. The result is people “only hear one side of the story.”
The Palestinian demonstration outside the Kelowna courthouse Nov. 12 was especially visual: an individual identifying themselves only as Haneen, a Palestinian studying locally, unfurled down the steps a computer printout listing what was said to be the names of every Palestinian civilian casualty between Oct. 7 and 26.
Kelowna is home to about 1,000 Jews, and an equal number are scattered throughout the Okanagan. At the time this article was written, the organizer said they did not feel any antisemitism in Kelowna or hostility as a result of the war and, in fact, finds a fair degree of sympathy for Israel’s position. “We haven’t removed the mezuzah from our door or things like that, like in other places. We feel quite comfortable.”
They said of the Chabad Centre, with which they are also involved: “There has been nothing there so far, but we need to be vigilant. It’s an easy place to find.”
Unlike elsewhere in British Columbia, Okanagan elected officials have generally remained neutral or understanding of Israel’s position. The area’s MPs, Tracy Gray for Kelowna-Lake Country and Dan Albas for Central Okanagan-Similkameen-Nicola are Conservatives, and have not strayed from that party’s stance supporting Israel’s right to defend itself. Right after the Hamas attack, Albas issued a clear statement “I stand with Israel” and condemned those in Canada who “celebrated these terrorist actions.”
In contrast, some 60 British Columbia politicians, at three levels of government, have signed a parliamentary e-petition sponsored by Quebec New Democrat Alexandre Boulerice calling on Prime Minister Justin Trudeau to demand an immediate ceasefire (before one happened), as well as an end to Israel’s blockade of the Gaza Strip. Over 286,000 signatures appeared on the petition by the Nov. 23 deadline. The only Okanagan official among the signatories is Penticton city councilor Isaac Gilbert.
At home, Rabbi Hecht is appreciative of the “care and assistance” the Kelowna RCMP detachment has shown to the Jewish community from the start, increasing its presence around the Chabad Centre and the Okanagan Jewish Community Centre, which houses Beth Shalom Synagogue.
Overall, he said, the Jewish community has “displayed incredible resilience and pride” as the conflict goes on.
Hecht has been urging greater public expressions of Jewishness during this time, such as putting up mezuzot and wearing kippot on the street.
“We have to shine our Jewish light right now; retreating is not an option,” he said. “We all need to be more outwardly Jewish, not less.”
The OJC did not play any role in the vigil but, in its latest newsletter, states “many members of our community” took part, that it was peaceful and received “a great response from drivers and passersby.” There is an accompanying photo.
“Everyone is praying for a swift conclusion to the war, an end to the violence in the region, and for the safe return of the hostages,” the newsletter states, continuing with the proviso: “Please note that the OJC is a social and religious community. We stand for Judaism and peace. Political events and activities of individual members are at their own discretion and are not organized by the OJC.”
OJC past president Steven Finkleman, who currently chairs several synagogue committees, told the the Jewish Independent, “We are all Jews here, and we do not want to be divisive amongst ourselves.” He emphasized that he was speaking personally and his comments do not necessarily reflect OJC policy.
“I am not on the board, so I can’t answer officially from the board’s point-of-view but only as an individual member of OJC,” Finkleman said via email. “I do know that there were several members of OJC at the event, but I’m not certain how they were made aware of the event, perhaps they are on Chabad’s emailing list.
“There is a fairly strong and active pro-Palestinian group whom I monitor, far outnumbering the group of Jews that were at the vigil. I personally think that flag-waving and asking members of the community to participate only contributes to possible division in the greater Kelowna community.
“We have had a lot of supportive emails (about 50), mainly from Christians, and have received zero negative communications. I think we have to be cautious about lowering ourselves to the level of flag waving and demonstrations that the opposition has done on a few occasions here in Kelowna.”
Finkleman, a retired pediatrician originally from Winnipeg who has lived in Kelowna 40 years, said he has had “some very gratifying contacts with Muslim students” and engaged confidentially with Palestinian supporters at the University of British Columbia campus in Kelowna and in the community,” private dialogue that he believes is more productive than public demonstrations.
Janice Arnoldis a freelance writer living in Summerland, BC.
Editor’s Note: This article was edited after publication in print and online, in response to a request for anonymity because of security concerns.
Pierre Anctil, left, and Richard Menkis with a copy of their new book, In a “Land of Hope”: Documents on the Canadian Jewish Experience, 1627-1923. (photo by Pat Johnson)
The first Jew known to have set foot in what is now Canada was Esther Brandeau, who arrived in Quebec City in 1738. Jews were forbidden from migrating to New France, but the young woman’s religion was not the only thing she was concealing. She was also dressed as a boy.
Interrogated by authorities on arrival, Brandeau was the subject of high-level consultations before she was sent back to France the following year.
Although they are certain there were Jews in the land that would become Canada before 1738, professors Richard Menkis and Pierre Anctil say Brandeau’s case is the first documented proof of a Jewish presence here.
The historians shared Brandeau’s story at a book launch in Vancouver Nov. 21, following the annual general meeting of the Jewish Museum and Archives of British Columbia. Menkis, an associate professor in the departments of history, and classical, Near Eastern and religious studies at the University of British Columbia, and Anctil, a University of Ottawa history professor, co-edited In a “Land of Hope”: Documents on the Canadian Jewish Experience, 1627-1923.
The book spans three centuries through the lens of more than 150 documents, many of them never before published.
Menkis emphasized the efforts made to provide geographical diversity in the volume.
“If we want to appreciate the Canadian Jewish experience, we’ve got to move beyond – believe it or not – the borders of Quebec and Ontario,” he told the audience at Temple Sholom. “We have offered texts that represent the experiences from west to east. We offer an excerpt from the minute book of Congregation Emanu-El, in Victoria, recording a debate on whether to include the Freemasons in a cornerstone-naming ceremony. We have documents from the other ocean, from a controversy in Halifax, where the local SPCA argued that kosher slaughtering was cruel and that the local shochet (kosher slaughterer) was accordingly charged.”
Anctil, who is francophone, emphasized the uniqueness of the Jewish experience in Quebec and noted that shared interest between Catholics and Jews led to one of the first legislative acts of Jewish emancipation in pre-Confederation Canada. In 1832, the legislature of Lower Canada (later Quebec) passed a statute making British subjects who are Jewish equal under the law to all other British subjects in the jurisdiction.
“It’s a foundational document,” said Anctil. “It’s the first time that Canada and most British colonies allowed Jews to have political and civil rights.”
The motivation may have had less to do with Jewish rights – there were only about 150 Jews in colonial Canada at the time – than self-interest among French Catholics.
“They were Catholics living in a Protestant world and they knew that, if the Jews had more rights, the Catholics also had more rights,” Anctil said.
The Quebec education law of 1903 had lasting impacts on the province, especially for Jews and their place in the “distinct society.”
“The Quebec government decided that Jews would be considered Protestants for the purpose of education,” said Anctil, “and [Jews] were all sent to the Protestant school board of Montreal and did not receive a Catholic or French education, which proved problematic in the decades ahead.”
Brandeau, the young Jewish woman who tried to masquerade as a non-Jewish boy, was only the first documented case of Jews coming up hard against Canada’s explicitly or implicitly racist immigration laws. The theme runs through the 400-page book.
Canadian immigration policies reflected the agricultural dominance of the Canadian economy into the 20th century and, since most European Jewish migrants were not farmers, this was an inherent, if not unwelcome from the perspective of immigration officials, bar to many Jews.
The editors address Jewish farmers in the book – those who had experience in the Old Country as well as those who, successfully or less so, took to the land after migration – but prioritize the economic experiences of Jews in peddling, retail and the garment industry.
The preference for immigrants with farming backgrounds was an implicitly, possibly even unintentionally, anti-Jewish component of Canada’s immigration approach. Other examples were less subtle. It was not so much that legislation said Jews were not permitted to migrate, but that unwritten rules, “administrative refinements” or policies that were open to interpretation could be used to block Jews from entering the country.
There had been rumours of a deliberate anti-Jewish immigration policy, and Menkis said their research found evidence that instructions had been sent to immigration officials in Europe that Jews were to be considered undesirable applicants.
In 1923, an order-in-council was passed by the federal cabinet, which said that only farmers, farmworkers and domestic women servants would be allowed to immigrate to Canada, effectively closing the door to Jews and many other communities from the Balkans and Eastern Europe.
Anctil and Menkis pointed out that Jews were far from the only group excluded under Canada’s immigration policies.
“Asians and Africans – out completely,” said Anctil. “Almost nobody got in. In 1923, we have the Chinese Immigration Act, which made it extremely difficult for financial reasons for Chinese people to migrate to Canada. So, we had areally racist immigration policy until the ’60s, ’70s. Not just Jews.”
Many of the documents included in the book were translated into English by the editors, from the original French, Yiddish or Hebrew.
“It’s very important to work in four languages,” Anctil said. “English, French, Yiddish and Hebrew – there is no way of doing Canadian Jewish history if you leave one out. All these four languages are represented in the book and serve an essential purpose of allowing the full flavour of this story to be told.”
The pair’s decade of research for In a “Land of Hope” uncovered some unexpected treasures.
“Usually, we hear of social welfare from the minute books of established members of the community and their organizations,” said Menkis. “I was reading one of these minute books on one occasion in Toronto when a piece of paper dropped out.”
It was a desperate appeal from a woman seeking help from a Jewish women’s aid organization, specifically asking for chickens for the Passover seder.
“Please let me know if you’re going to send me the Paisez [Pesach] order and if you’re going to send me what you promised me,” read the handwritten letter. “I hope that you’re going to be kindly for my sick husband and my six little children because I just leave it to you and you should help because there is nobody to help accept [sic] you. I hope you won’t forget us and send us an answer right away. Because I could not tell you very much & That is the first time in my life that I should ask for help. But everything can happen in a lifetime. Yours […] Mrs. Green.”
The book closes in 1923 because that was a turning point in Canadian Jewish history and in the larger story of Canadian immigration. As a result of an economic depression following the First World War, nativist sentiments led to what was an effective end to large-scale immigration into Canada, itself a response to a parallel development south of the border.
“One of the reasons it happened in Canada was that they knew the Americans were closing down [open immigration] and they didn’t want to get all those Jews that the Americans weren’t accepting,” said Menkis.
A second volume of the work, picking up from 1924, is due to be released in 2026. Anctil said the unique experiences of Jews in Quebec will be even more pronounced in that book.
“The Jews living in Quebec faced a different situation than Jews living elsewhere,” he said. “The majority of [Canadian] Jews were in Quebec until the ’60s and it’s not only the French and Catholic issue, it’s the issue that the school system was separated between Catholics and Protestants and Jews could not find a place easily in the public school system.”
Bias against Jews also has a different strain in each of Canada’s official linguistic communities, Anctil added.
“Antisemitism among the French is not the same as among the British,” he said. “The logic’s not the same and the results are not the same. Often, when you read histories of Canadian Jewry, you have the impression antisemitism is all the same, whoever is antisemitic. It’s not true. [There are a] number of subtleties and complexities in that.”
In a “Land of Hope” was released by the Champlain Society, a publisher of scholarly Canadian books. This is the first book the society has published about a community that is not French or English in its 115-year history.
“I hope at least I’ve convinced you of the value of the book, without being crassly commercial,” Menkis said at the end of the presentation, adding: “Although, I do want to say that In a ‘Land of Hope’ would make a great Hanukkah gift.”
Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin meets in Casablanca with PLO Chairman Yasser Arafat, 1994. (photo from flickr.com/photos/government_press_office/6324960139)
With all the darkness surrounding us since Oct 7, since the shattering of that tranquil Shabbat, have the people of Israel witnessed a miracle?
When Israel’s guard was fully down, when the south was under a vicious blitzkrieg by the monstrous Hamas, why did Hezbollah – with their 150,000 missiles pointed towards Israel – not exploit this excellent opportunity to open a second front? When Israel was existentially exposed, Hezbollah chose not to respond, at least not in any real-time, meaningful way. Complex geopolitical and military and conspiracy theories abound, attempting to explain why and why not. Pundits speculate and postulate and surmise. But maybe, just maybe, at some very esoteric level, the simplest and most logical answer, according to my close friend, a rabbi: it was a modern-day miracle. Pftt, pftt, pftt, as my great-grandmother would add.
***
The lights! Growing up, I was conditioned to shut the lights when leaving a room. I attempted to teach the same to my kids – and to my wife, although sometimes it seems she opens the lights when leaving a room. And then the missile sirens go off. Whoa! Slow it down. We have 90 seconds. Certainly time enough to shut the lights when racing to our shelter. My shouts muted by the screeching of the red alert, “Lights! Lights! Shut the lights!” I yell. To no avail, of course.
***
The day after … too soon to start thinking about it? That is where discussions about the war ultimately end up, each of us with our own theory, our own concerns, our own hopes. Once Israel achieves victory, in whatever form that takes, Gaza must then be rebuilt. But first it must be deradicalized – no more Hamas. Demilitarized – no more bombs hidden in schools, mosques and hospitals. And democratized – according to Winston Churchill, it’s the worst form of government … except for all others.
For this to succeed, Gaza should be divided into three cantons, similar to Germany, post-Second World War, each managed by a strong, Western or westward-looking country with enlightened self-interest for a stable and less radical Middle East. Maybe the United States. Maybe Britain. Maybe Germany. Maybe Egypt or Jordan. Escorted by a massive 21st-century Marshall-like plan. Maybe the Blinken Plan. Channeling the equivalent of $15 billion in 1948 purchasing power, that’s $191,569,917,012.48. OK, not that much, as the Gaza Strip is tiny compared to Germany, but enough funds to restore its economic infrastructure, to rebuild the Strip and rehabilitate its citizens, and make Gaza the Singapore of the Middle East – shipping, tourism, industry, maybe even offshore natural gas – like it could have become in 2005, when Israel fully withdrew. But then, what do I know.
***
Well before the day after, we need to take care of the Israeli hostages, including babies, children and octogenarians, both those still held in unknown condition by Hamas and other terrorists in Gaza, and those who have been returned. Interesting, but not necessarily surprising, is that neither the United Nations General Assembly nor UNICEF nor even the Red Cross demanded their unconditional release. Let alone a humanitarian visit.
As related by Liat Collins of the Jerusalem Post, Guelah Cohen – a 1980s right-wing parliamentarian, 2003 Israel Prize winner and mother of current senior Lukid lawmaker Tzachi Hanegbi – summarized this tragic situation best. Back during the First Lebanon War, when Tzachi was a combat solder, Cohen was asked what she would do if he were taken prisoner. She thoughtfully responded that, as a mother, she would be outside leading the protests to bring her son home, shouting with a megaphone outside the Prime Minister’s Office for the government to do anything and everything in its power to achieve his release. But, as a member of the government, she would be sitting quietly in the Prime Minister’s Office, advising him not to listen to the public.
Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin, during the controversial days of the 1993 Oslo Peace Accords process and accompanying Palestinian terror, said, “We must fight terrorism as if there’s no peace process and work for peace as if there’s no terror.” How utterly profound.
So, with the tragic circumstances of the hostages, the government must listen to the cries of the hostages’ families. But they also must lead and not be swayed by public opinion. The government must fight the war on Hamas as if there were no hostages and must, at the same time, bring all the hostages home. Alive.
***
As for economic recovery, I share a very micro, personal anecdote. About 18 months ago, we redid our condo, buying much of our furniture from BaKatzer, a wonderful and unique boutique furniture store located in a moshav (agricultural community) just outside the Gaza periphery, not too far from Ashkelon, which receives the brunt of the rockets from Gaza. While not the easiest of customers – I can be very demanding on price and service – I recently sent the owner a WhatsApp message. “Hey!” I wrote. “Hope all is well during these difficult times and hope to be back soon for more shopping.” Given my unforgiving consumerism, maybe she saw that as another threat. Alas, I can also be a very loyal consumer.
***
And there we were, my wife and I sitting around our Shabbat table with my daughter and her best friends, one with a brother who is a paratrooper and fighting in Gaza, the other an intelligence officer whose service was just extended, and still another, who was on a weekend leave from his Golani unit stationed up north. The conversation quickly moving from the trivial and benign to questioning and
responding to issues and concerns that should be far away from them, that should not trouble the young minds of these 20-somethings, who should not deal with the complexities of miracles and hostages and day-after theories. Alas, there we were, talking of war and survival, looking hopefully to tomorrow. Am Israel chai.
Bruce Brown is a Canadian and an Israeli. He made aliyah … a long time ago. He works in Israel’s high-tech sector by day and, in spurts, is a somewhat inspired writer by night. Brown is the winner of the 2019 AJPA Rockower Award for excellence in writing, and wrote the 1998 satire An Israeli is…. Brown reflects on life in Israel – political, social, economic and personal.
Joshua Greenstein, vice-president of the Israeli Wine Producers Association, showcases the array of wines produced in Israel. (photo from IWPA)
The world of wine in Israel, perhaps the oldest wine-producing region in the world, has become collateral damage of the atrocities that occurred on Oct. 7. To raise awareness, and in support of Israel and Israeli wineries, the Israeli Wine Producers Association (IWPA) is asking consumers to “Sip for Solidarity.”
The massacre has had an immediate, concrete impact, particularly on picking, sorting and winemaking teams. Harvest had begun shortly before the attacks, which meant that the sorting, crushing and fermentation processes were, in many cases, done under the constant threat of attack and bombardment. For many wineries, production teams have been hollowed out, as the young men and women who normally would be shepherding the crucial winemaking process have been called up to help defend the nation.
“Winemaking has its own schedule, unlike other industries, where you can pause production or run with limited staff. Grapes grow and ripen when they do. The winemaking process is very hands-on. Without staff, many wineries face an impending crisis,” said Joshua Greenstein, vice-president of the IWPA, a trade organization promoting 30-plus Israeli wineries through wine education and events.
“Additionally, wine is usually something enjoyed when you go out to eat or to a party, and people in Israel aren’t feeling particularly celebratory these days,” Greenstein added. “It’s catastrophic not just for this year’s sales, but for the vintages harvesting now that won’t be ready for sale for years to come.”
To help the situation, Greenstein suggested, “Buy a bottle of Israeli wine. Not only will the purchase help the wineries, but we’re donating 10% of every case shipped from Nov. 1, 2023, to Dec. 31, 2023, to Israeli relief efforts. With the wine-consuming public’s support, these challenges are surmountable, and wineries will still craft wines that accurately and deliciously reflect the character of the vintage and of Israel, just as they always have.”
Left to right: Kara Mintzberg, Maurice Moses, Cyndi Mintzberg, Sheila Gordon (a friend of Haber’s), Gyda Chud, Grace Hann and Tammi Belfer, with Marilyn Berger in front. (photo from JSA)
On Nov. 19, Jewish Seniors Alliance held their Fall Symposium at the Peretz Centre for Secular Jewish Culture. The event honoured Serge Haber, JSA’s founder.
Haber passed away in October of this year at the age of 95. Throughout his life, he never lost his vision of there being in the community an organization that would see seniors helping seniors. He worked tirelessly to achieve this goal. Many of the speakers that Sunday afternoon mentioned that Haber would never take no for an answer. He managed by the force of his personality to involve people in the alliance and to find donors and foundations to support its work.
Gyda Chud, a former co-president of JSA, was the symposium’s emcee. She introduced Tammi Belfer, the current president, who welcomed the 50 people in the audience and the 22 watching online. Former JSA presidents Ken Levitt and Marilyn Berger spoke about what they had gained from working with the organization and what they had learned from Haber. Cyndi Mintzberg and her daughter Kara Mintzberg, cousins of Haber, representing the family, spoke of how much they enjoyed spending time with Haber. They particularly mentioned Shabbat dinners. Haber’s children, in Toronto and Washington, were watching on Zoom.
Two videos of Haber were shown. The first had been prepared for his 90th birthday, and featured a collage of photos from different periods and events in his life. Some showed him in Romania before the war; others in Montreal, where he married; and some from Vancouver, where he lived for many years. The second video was of a speech that Haber gave to the Fraser Health Authority in which he explained the importance of dealing with the loneliness that afflicts many seniors, and how the Peer Support Program of JSA can help with these issues by providing emotional support.
Rabbi Adam Stein of Congregation Beth Israel, who is a JSA board member, offered remarks on behalf of the synagogue, where Haber was an active member for many years. Stein described visiting him in hospice. Instead of talking about himself, Haber wanted to know how the rabbi and his family were doing.
Marie Doduck, another member of the JSA board, brought greetings from the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, where Haber was active with the survivors group.
Grace Hann, the trainer for the Peer Support Program, described her first interactions with Haber, saying she was frightened of him until he took the training and easily fit into the group. She felt the force of his dedication and said she learned a lot from him.
Maurice Moses, a long-time friend, sang a moving rendition of “Eli, Eli.” He also led the group in the singing of the Partisans’ Hymn, which Marilyn Berger had suggested as a reminder of the Holocaust and the Oct. 7 attacks in Israel.
Belfer shared some of the JSA’s plans, including the possible hiring of an executive director and the organization’s 20th anniversary gala, to be held in February at Temple Sholom. She spoke again of Haber’s vision and of the three pillars of JSA – education, advocacy and peer support – and noted that there were donor cards on the tables, which people could use to donate to the Serge Haber Fund at the Jewish Community Foundation of Greater Vancouver. The formal part of the event closed with the singing of Hatikvah.
Shanie Levinis a Jewish Seniors Alliance Life Governor. She is also on the editorial committee of Senior Line magazine.
The Ben-Gurion family in their Tel Aviv home, 1929. From left: David and Paula with youngest daughter Renana on Ben-Gurion’s lap, daughter Geula, father Avigdor Grün and son Amos. (photo from National Photo Collection of Israel / Government Press Office)
David Ben-Gurion, who died 50 years ago, insisted Israelis needed Hebrew names. The process was controversial – but the outcome is clear.
The 50th anniversary of the death of David Ben-Gurion will be marked Dec. 1. The first prime minister of Israel is generally remembered in noble terms, though we live in an era when heroes are being toppled from their plinths. His actions in times of war and peace have been parsed by historians – fairly and unfairly, as seems inevitable – but Ben-Gurion’s legacy among Zionists appears generally secure. Those with ideological axes to grind will grind, but the esteem in which most Israelis and overseas Jews view “the Old Man” remains largely favourable. However, an aspect of his policy that affected people in a very personal way has come in for a reconsideration in the past couple of decades, though it is hardly the stuff that will make or break a reputation. It is the Hebraization of names.
Ben-Gurion was a fierce advocate of Israelis (or, before 1948, Palestinian Jews) adopting names that reflect their new reality and that, by extension, turn their backs on the past and the diaspora. Ben-Gurion himself was born David Grün (or Gruen), changing his name to the Hebrew Ben-Gurion (son a lion cub) in 1910. By 1920, at the latest, he had become an evangelist for Hebraizing names and, when he was in power, he insisted that leading military and political figures adopt Hebrew names.
Ben-Gurion did not start this trend – though he is perhaps most closely associated with it because he was in a position to make it the force of law and custom. He instituted an administrative order that senior military figures and diplomatic officials representing Israel abroad must have Hebrew names. Others, like Golda Meir, he browbeat into the change.
Of course, Jews – and others – have been changing their names since the dawn of migration. People have frequently altered their names when moving to a new society, in order to fit in. Iberian Jews migrating en masse to the Low Countries after the expulsions of the 1490s are an early, well-documented example. Jews arriving on North American shores routinely changed their names, but so did non-Jewish migrants. It was not necessarily (or only) antisemitism that name-changers sought to outrun, but differentness in general. There are stories of French newcomers changing from Boisvert to Greenwood.
Dara Horn, in her book People Love Dead Jews, emphatically debunks the long-held belief passed down by generations that their family names had been changed at Ellis Island (or whatever entry point was appropriate to the story). No, she argues, that didn’t happen. The changing of names by Jewish new Canadians and Americans was, she contends, done by the migrants themselves and represents a sad realization that the Goldene Medina might not be the refuge from antisemitism they had hoped.
But changing one’s name to fit into a society already in progress, like America’s, was different than the situation of arriving in the pre-state Yishuv. This was not a matter of looking around for a local-sounding name and changing Moses to Murray or Lipschitz to Lipson. This required inventing a whole new lexicon of names. It was not the act of taking a common name in the new place, but of inventing entirely fresh first and last names.
The process was a legacy, ultimately, of Eliezer Ben-Yehuda (né Perlman), who was the driving force behind the revival of Hebrew as a vernacular language. After making aliyah in 1881, he came to believe that the redemption of both the people and the land of Israel required a new language to replace Yiddish. This represented a rejection of the diaspora reality and mentality, and served to create a medium through which an eventual (hoped-for) ingathering of exiles from around the world, including places where Yiddish was not the Jewish lingua franca, could communicate. The revival of an ancient land would coincide with the revival of an ancient language, both modernized to meet the needs of a new type of Jew. Ben-Yehuda raised his son and daughter exclusively in Hebrew, which must have made for a somewhat lonely childhood, being effectively the only two people in the world to speak the language as a mother tongue.
Eliezer Ben-Yehuda (né Perlman) was the driving force behind the revival of Hebrew as a vernacular language. (photo by Av Yaacov Ben Dov / Widener Library, Cambridge)
As the language spread – in large part thanks to Ben-Yehuda’s continued perseverance in promoting it and inventing modern words where the ancient language lacked them – the application of the new tongue to family and given names likewise grew.
The repudiation of the diaspora took on an entirely new relevance after the Holocaust. Some who made aliyah resisted changing their names, being attached, as is understandable, to one’s family name. Even so, no Jewish surnames were particularly long-established in the first place, since the practice of Jews adopting inheritable family names was only a century old, or a little more, at that time. The Austro-Hungarian Empire required Jews to take surnames in 1789 and in the Russian Empire and the German principalities not until the following century. At that time, choosing a name followed predictable patterns for Jews and non-Jews: a variation on “son of,” (Aronoff, son of Aron; Mendelsohn, son of Mendel), a reference to a profession (Becker for a baker; Melamed for a teacher), or a connection to the town or region (Frankel, from Franconia; Warshavski, from Warsaw; Wiener, from Vienna).
The adoption of Hebraized names in Palestine and Israel took four primary approaches.
The first was the traditional use of patronyms or matronyms, which is probably the oldest form of naming. Yiddish names, but also names that were German, Polish, Russian, English or French patronyms could be Hebraized: Davidson to Ben-David, Mendelson to Ben-Menachem, Simmons to Shimoni.
A second approach was to choose a Hebrew name that sounded like the original name. In some cases, the new name had a (sometimes remote) connotation with the original, as in the case of Lempel (little lamp) becoming Lapid (torch). Levi Shkolnik would become Israel’s third prime minister as Levi Eshkol. This was more than simply a near-homophone. It reflected another trend in the process, which was to adopt a name that spoke to the commitment of the chalutzim, the pioneers, whose Zionism was deeply informed by a back-to-the-land ethos. Eshkol means “cluster of fruit,” so it did double duty, sounding something like the original and also having a kinship with the blooming desert.
A third strategy was basic translation. Goldberg might become Har-Zahav (mountain of gold); Silver or Silverman might become Kaspi; Herbst, which in German and Yiddish means autumn, could be changed to a Hebrew equivalent, Stav or Stavi.
The fourth approach took the pioneer spirit and connection with the land to greater depths (with or without the homophonic advantage of Shkolnik/Eshkol). Flora, fauna and geography of the new homeland were attractive new names that situated the migrants linguistically and geographically. The writer Carrie-Anne Brownian cites such examples as Rotem (desert broom), Nitzan (flower bud), Yarden (Jordan), Alon (oak tree) and Tomer (palm tree). Simply adopting a place name gives us Hermoni, Eilat, Golani, Kineret and many others.
Those whose names already had a nature theme were at an advantage. The Haganah commander Moshe Klaynboym changed his family name, which meant “little tree” in Yiddish, to Sneh, Hebrew for “bush.”
Not necessarily related to nature, but to the idealization of the Zionist spirit, some took names like Amichai (my people live), Maor (light), Eyal (strength), Cherut (freedom) and Bat Or (daughter of light).
Golda Meyerson, after prodding from Ben-Gurion, became Golda Meir. Interestingly, her rather emphatically Yiddish given name she kept, presumably making Ben-Gurion half-satisfied.
Golda Meyerson, with prodding from David Ben-Gurion, became Golda Meir. (photo from mosaicmagazine.com)
As refugees from the Middle East and North Africa began pouring into Israel in the 1950s and ’60s, the Hebraization of names came to be seen as Ashkenormative, the taking of one’s ancestral name being another indignity (alongside inadequate housing and social stigmatization, among other things) that different-looking newcomers faced in their presumed Promised Land.
It seems, for example, that teachers encountering “strange” Mizrachi and Sephardi given names took it upon themselves, in some cases, to assign kids new names based not on any Zionist ideological imperative but for the same reason Canadian teachers in the early to mid-20th century dubbed kids with “foreign” names new ones the teachers could more easily pronounce. In retrospect, some have complained that this phenomenon was an insidious part of a larger (conscious, unconscious or some of both) effort to force Mizrahim and Sephardim to comport to Ashkenazi expectations even in things as intimate as a given name.
Sami Shalom Chetrit, a professor at Queens College in New York, who is of Moroccan-Israeli origin, recalled in a Forward article by Naomi Zeveloff, feeling outraged when an Israeli elementary school teacher nonchalantly renamed him, along with other non-Hebrew-named kids.
“Alif, your name from now on will be Aliza,” Chetrit recalled the teacher declaring. “Jackie, your name is Jacob, and Michele, your name is Michal. She kept going alphabetically. Then she said, ‘Sami, your name will be Shmuel Shalom.’
“I went to my father, crying.… I really felt like something was stolen from me, something precious. I said: ‘They changed my name! They changed it!’”
Chetrit’s father taught the teacher something the next day, according to the story. In Arabic, “Sami” comes from the root “samar,” the father said, meaning “heavenly superior,” and that, the father declared, is “international.”
The tendency eventually faded out. When a million migrants from the former Soviet Union arrived in Israel, after 1991, almost none chose to, or were pressured to, change their names.
There are contemporary exceptions even to this, though. Anatoly Shcharansky, one of the most famous of the Soviet “refuseniks,” became Natan Sharansky on arrival in Israel in 1986. The American historian Michael Bornstein became the Israeli politician-cum-diplomat Michael Oren, having changed his name when he made aliyah in 1979.
Newcomers to Israel today are free to change their names – and free to keep their “galut” (“exile”) names. Israel, today, is an overwhelmingly Hebrew society, though. New arrivals do not present a risk of swamping the place with Yiddish, Arabic, German, Polish or English, as might have seemed a danger 75 years ago, creating a Babel where cultural unity was desperately needed.
In addition to the psychological impacts of adopting Hebrew names (and language) as a refutation of the diaspora that had so recently been the locus of calamity, there was the practical reality of finding commonality among wildly diverse new citizens. That has been achieved. Even sorbing a million Russian-speaking new Israelis after 1990 did not dilute the ascendency of the Hebrew language. For whatever criticisms the forced (or vigorously encouraged) adoption of Hebrew names might invite, there is no doubt the intended outcome has been realized. Ben-Gurion’s dream not only of a Jewish state, but a Hebrew one, is firmly in place.
The steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery were illuminated by lights representing those murdered by Hamas on Oct. 7, as the community gathered Nov. 7 to mark shloshim, 30 days of mourning. Here, Ohad Arazi addresses the crowd. (photo by Pat Johnson)
The steps of the Vancouver Art Gallery were illuminated by hundreds of lights representing lost lives, as the community gathered Nov. 7 to mark shloshim, 30 days of mourning, after the unprecedented terror attacks in Israel.
Among the lives lost on that single day was Ben Mizrahi, a 22-year-old Vancouverite, for whom Rabbi Shlomo Gabay of Congregation Beth Hamidrash recited El Moleh Rachamim.
“The past 30 days have been some of the most difficult of our lives,” said Ohad Arazi, who spoke at the gathering. “They have been difficult for some of us as Jews, for others as Israelis. They have been difficult for all of us as humans.
“There are not two sides here. It is not about politics, history, land, religion or anything in between,” Arazi continued. “This is about one thing and one thing only. This is about humanity. Nothing, absolutely nothing, justifies the horrific crimes that were committed 30 days ago. I do not know what comes next from the region as Israel and its allies must now fight to end Hamas’s regime…. But one thing I do know is that we here in Vancouver, here in Canada and elsewhere, we have a voice. We have a voice to stand up for humanity and to cry out against the senseless massacres that were carried out a month ago.
“For now, we need you, all of you, to stand up for Israel. Speak up. Your voice matters. Call them terrorists, not militants, for crying out loud. Do not give up hope that we will bring home all 242 hostages. These are dark days for Israel, but it’s an even darker time for the world, as many choose to side with evil or to not take a stand unequivocally in support of humanity.”
Another speaker, Moti Kotik, is an Israeli who has lived in Vancouver for 20 years. His friend’s daughter, Agam Berger, was kidnapped to Gaza on Oct. 7.
“Tonight, I don’t want to talk about the barbaric atrocities committed by Hamas,” Kotik said. “Nor do I want to speak about those crimes against humanity that so many failed to condemn. Instead, I’d like to share some personal thoughts and realizations that I’ve had in the last 30 days about what it means to be an Israeli Jew in the diaspora.”
For Israelis abroad, he said, it’s challenging to witness events from afar. He cited the Yom Kippur War, which began 50 years to the day before the October pogrom, calling it “a war that changed the lives of our parents.”
“This is our Yom Kippur and it’s already changing us,” he said. “For the first time, I was able to look from the outside and imagine what life for Jews would have been if there was not the state of Israel.”
Kotik said there has traditionally been a division between Israelis and other Jews in the community.
“Many times, we don’t mix with the local community,” he said. “For me, that is done. There is no more duality. I realize that I cannot escape from what I am, from what we are, which is one people, Jewish people, one community that supports each other, that makes us stronger.”
Kotik said the soldiers defending Israel on the frontlines today carry a burden of history.
“They are not there for their families and friends or neighbours, they are not even there just for the people of Israel or even for all of us,” he said. “They are there right now, risking their lives, in the name of every Jew that ever lived. Every Jew throughout history who did not have someone to protect him, who did not have someone to defend him, for every Jew throughout history, they are risking their life and putting it on the line. But they feel us and they feel our warmth and our support and our unconditional trust and they know, while they are on the front, we have their back and it helps them carrying that weight.”
The community gathered Nov. 7 to mark 30 days of mourning since Hamas’s terror attacks. (photo by Pat Johnson)
Ezra Shanken, chief executive officer of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, welcomed elected representatives and said he does not take for granted the presence and support of government officials and police.
Michael Lee, member of the Legislature for Vancouver-Langara, said he has been hearing from parents whose children in public schools and at universities are experiencing antisemitic taunts and bullying. He commended the City of Vancouver and the Government of Canada for adopting the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance Working Definition of Antisemitism and said he has been advocating for years that the province of British Columbia likewise adopt it, so that Crown counsel and law enforcement have that tool to aid in prosecuting hate crimes.
John Rustad, leader of the B.C. Conservative party, said he was disgusted that Canada has allowed pro-Hamas rallies to take place.
“It should never, never happen in this country,” he said. “I will do everything I can to stand with you, to stand for peace and to make sure that people understand history.”
Lenny Zhou, a Vancouver councilor, brought greetings from city hall.
“This is not about Israel and Palestine,” Zhou said. “It is not about Jewish or Muslim. It is about Israel and Hamas. It is about civilization and terrorists.”
Rabbi Susan Tendler of Beth Tikvah Congregation read a prayer written for the shloshim and spoke of the anxieties felt by Jews worldwide.
Rev. Doug Longstaffe, a United Church minister and a founding member of the Multi-Faith Summit Council of BC, but speaking on his own behalf, said he believes it is a mistake that more non-Jews are not stepping up in solidarity.
“No group has had power used against them for so long, systemically and lethally, in such a variety of ways and places and it is staggering,” he said. “While I am not arguing that it is harder to be a Jew than to be Black or Brown or Asian – how would I know? I’m white – but it is different. I see that. And it is different mostly because of the history of antisemitism, which I have been privileged to learn about and horrified by.
“There are more hate crimes today against Jews in Canada each year than [against] any other group,” Longstaffe said. “I think our first responsibility as gentiles to Jews is to understand that, considering their unique history, the right of every group to protection under the law needs to be applied most rigorously to Jews.
“Second, considering this unique history of the Jewish people, we need to lose our naivety, so that we do not unconsciously jeopardize Jewish safety by thinking they should simply assume goodwill,” he said. “Third, we need to be especially understanding, as gentiles, of Israel’s need and right to self-defence when surrounded by terrorist groups who wish to destroy all Jewish citizens.”
Regular weekly rallies to free the hostages continued Sunday. That vigil, which emphasized the approximately 40 children held hostage – including an infant born in captivity last week – recognized United Nations World Children’s Day Nov. 20. Four Vancouverites whose cousin, 17-year-old Ofir Engel, is a hostage in Gaza, attended, with one giving a moving sketch of the youth, who was visiting his girlfriend at Kibbutz Be’eri when the attacks occurred. Attendees then marched down Robson Street to Denman, where they amassed outside the restaurant Ofra’s Kitchen, whose proprietor, Ofra Sixto, has been subjected to hateful anti-Israel harassment.
At the Nov. 9 Kristallnacht commemorative event, left to right: Dr. Janus Møller Jensen, Nina Krieger, Prof. Chris Friedrichs and Abby Wener Herlin. (photo by Rhonda Dent)
The rescue of Danish Jews during the Holocaust – an operation that mobilized almost the entire strata of Denmark’s population – is one of the bright lights in the history of that dark era. That extraordinary event, which took place 80 years ago last month, is one of the reasons Denmark had one of the highest survival rates of any country during the Shoah. Even this uplifting story, though, has its “shadows,” according to an expert who spoke in Vancouver Nov. 9.
Dr. Janus Møller Jensen, an historian and director of the Danish Jewish Museum, was the keynote speaker at the annual community-wide Kristallnacht Commemoration, presented by the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre and held at Beth Israel Synagogue.
Denmark has an unusual history in the context of Nazi occupation. After the Nazis invaded the country with minimal opposition, in April 1940, politicians and the king, Christian X, surrendered, but managed to negotiate terms that allowed the Danish democratic system of government to continue in a so-called “peace occupation.” Importantly, one of the Danish demands was that no Dane be singled out according to their race or faith, said Møller Jensen.
This status quo fell apart in 1943, after a series of strikes and uprisings around the country. Amid the Nazi crackdown came rumours at the end of September that an action against Danish Jews was imminent. At the same time, word spread that Sweden was prepared to accept Danish Jews as refugees. A mobilization of fishing boats began – as did the Nazi mobilization – in early October. Up and down the coast of Denmark, small and larger boats carried their cargo of Jewish Danes across the straight to neutral Sweden. In all, an estimated 7,220 Jews and 686 non-Jewish spouses were transported. Of all Danish Jews, 472 were captured by the Nazis and transported to Theresienstadt, in present-day Chechia, a waystation to the extermination camps. Of these, all but 53 survived the war, in part because the Danish government persuaded the Nazis to allow food and medicine packages to be delivered to the Danish inmates.
Another stunning reality was that, when the Danish Jews who survived – estimates of survival range from 95% to 99% – returned to Denmark, almost all found their homes and possessions intact – a stark difference from what Jews elsewhere in Europe discovered if they returned to their places or origin.
Not all of Danish history is so bright for Jews, said Møller Jensen. A long history of Catholic and Lutheran theological antisemitism permeates Denmark, and immigration policies before the Second World War prevented many Jews from elsewhere from reaching refuge.
“We have letters of refusal in our collection, of people who we know later died in the camps,” said Møller Jensen.
In addition, Danish companies and agricultural producers provided materials to the German war effort, although this was required of all occupied countries, he noted.
Not all rescuers acted on altruistic motives, either, Møller Jensen added. Some fishers took money to transport Danish Jews, but he also noted that, while hindsight suggests the Nazi occupiers turned something of a blind eye to the rescue operation, those involved at the time did not know this and would likely have assumed they were risking their lives.
BC Premier David Eby spoke at the Kristallnacht event. (photo by Rhonda Dent)
In addition to the hands-on rescue, Danish society rose up against the Nazis’ action. “Organizations from the entire strata of society – doctors, professors, students, lawyers, industries, working unions – protested,” he said. “The Danish church promulgated a so-called ‘Shepherd’s Letter’ to be read aloud in all of the churches in Denmark the following Sunday, stating that this was an unchristian act, that all people were the same in the eyes of God and that this was wrong and the congregation should assist and protect their fellow human beings…. One of the priests remembered, having read the letter aloud, that the entire congregation spontaneously rose to its feet and shouted ‘Yes!’”
Beth Israel’s Rabbi Jonathan Infeld thanked Møller Jensen and reflected on his words.
“The Danish people,” he said, “did exactly the opposite of what happened in Poland. When the Jews came back to Poland, they were murdered and their property was stolen, and when the Jews came back to Denmark, dinner was waiting for them on their tables. That is righteousness.”
BC Premier David Eby spoke at the Kristallnacht event, saying he wanted to provide assurances that all parties in the Legislature are committed to ensuring that the Jewish community in British Columbia is protected from antisemitism and feels safe. He acknowledged the proximate anniversaries of Kristallnacht and Remembrance Day, and noted that his government had just announced that Holocaust education will become mandatory in the BC school system.
“The thing about remembering is you can’t remember something you’ve never learned, you can’t remember something you were never taught,” Eby told the audience. “I’m proud to stand with you, to support your community, to stand against antisemitism, to stand against Islamophobia, to stand against all forms of hate, for British Columbia to be a beacon of hope in the world of what is possible at a time when those who want to promote division and hate seem to be on the rise just about everywhere. We have lots to be proud of in this province and part of what I’m incredibly proud of is the strength of our Jewish community here and I’m very honoured to be with you here this evening.”
Before the keynote address, Prof. Chris Friedrichs, emeritus professor of history at the University of British Columbia, contextualized Kristallnacht and called the Danish rescue “the most spectacular episode of rescue in the entire history of the Shoah.”
The Kristallnacht gathering was presented in conjunction with Congregation Beth Israel and funded by the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, with support from the Robert and Marilyn Krell Endowment Fund of the VHEC. Møller Jensen’s visit was facilitated by Norman Gladstone and Birgit Westergaard.
Corinne Zimmerman, president of the board of the VHEC, introduced a procession of Holocaust survivors, who carried memorial candles. Nina Krieger, executive director of the VHEC, opened the event and read greetings from Prime Minister Justin Trudeau. Cantor Yaacov Orzech recited El Moleh Rachamim. Councilor Sarah Kirby-Yung read a proclamation from the City of Vancouver. Taleeb Noormohamad, member of Parliament for Vancouver Granville, sent video-recorded greetings from Ottawa. BC cabinet ministers Selina Robinson and George Heyman were in attendance, as was Michael Lee, member of the Legislative Assembly for Vancouver-Langara.
The event drew a record crowd, according to organizers, of 420 in-person attendees and an additional 120 watching via livestream, including groups at the Louis Brier Home and Hospital and the Weinberg Residence.
The author’s husband, Dr. Scott Fields, picking tangerines in southern Israel, on Kibbutz Nitzanim. (photo by Deborah Rubin Fields)
I have just returned from laundry brigade duty. Of course, your first question is, what is the laundry brigade? As you may or may not know, in my city of Jerusalem, as well as in other parts of Israel, the hotels are currently filled with people who, for safety’s sake, have left their homes in southern and northern Israel. These moves have created an unprecedented event in Israel’s history. As one friend from Adamit, a far northern kibbutz pointed out, “We are refugees in our own country.”
In my neighbourhood, as well as in other Jerusalem neighbourhoods, residents are volunteering to clean the clothes of those evacuated to hotels. This help is very organized, with a pool of volunteers listed on an Excel file. So, I just returned the laundered clothes of a young family from the northern town of Shlomi.
And, speaking of clothes, there have been clothing drives to help those who left their homes quickly. Books and games have also been donated so that displaced families have some positive way to occupy their time.
But there are so many other noteworthy acts of goodness. One of our sons and other staff from Kfar Saba’s Meir Hospital recently drove south to the Netivot area to help a farmer pick and box watermelon. The farmer’s usual Thai or Palestinian workers are gone. In their place, hundreds, if not thousands of ordinary citizens are in the fields picking – and this is happening all over the country.
One of our daughters spent a week at Jerusalem’s Bezalel Art School sewing uniforms and add-ons for protective ceramic vests, equipment the soldiers currently need. Sewing machines were even delivered to some kibbutzim so kibbutz members could also help with this task.
While there is enough food for soldiers, some people are still providing extra food. One Jerusalem restaurant owner prepared a meal for 70 soldiers (including his son) serving up north. The food was driven to the soldiers by someone else whose partner is serving with this platoon. In my area, one of my older religious neighbours gave his Pesach dishes to observant soldiers who are staying in a university dorm (camping “in” rather than “out” as it were).
There has been a big emphasis on checking people who live alone or who have mobility issues. Volunteers are helping with shopping, picking up medication, or just visiting these solitary individuals.
During this war period, Jerusalem’s branch of Magen David Adom has held more than one blood drive. Each turnout has been unbelievable, as potential donors stood in line for hours waiting their turn. Moreover, in addition to the sandwiches the MDA staff and volunteers regularly eat on their extended 12-hour shifts, volunteers have been cooking and delivering meals (including vegetarian portions) to the staff.
On the kibbutz where one of our sons lives with his family, each family is responsible for the needs of the 100 evacuees who are currently living on the kibbutz. Yad Sarah, the Israeli nonprofit that loans medical equipment, has offered to loan equipment that the evacuees were unable to take with them. In addition, volunteers have given their time to fix up these temporary living spaces while other locals have organized hazit habayit, drop-off sites where furniture and electronics are collected for those who have had to relocate. Another nonprofit, Tenufa Bakehila, is right now fixing up neglected bomb shelters and repairing homes damaged by rockets.
Other nonprofits have opened their doors to evacuees. The Society for the Protection of Nature in Israel has people lodging in its Eilat Field School. For the past month, it has likewise been providing meals.
All over the country, evacuated children have been enrolled in local schools. Even the National Library of Israel has become involved. It just moved into a beautiful new building, but its old building on Hebrew University’s Givat Ram campus has become a temporary school for children from Shlomi.
There is the story of a small family consisting of two sons and the father. When one son, Sgt. Maj. (Res) Gil Phishitz, was killed on Friday, Nov. 3, the word went out on social media. Thousands of people dropped what they were doing to attend the funeral in Hadera. Out of respect and to show support for the tremendous sacrifice of these fallen soldiers, people who don’t personally know the families have also been visiting during the shiva period.
Israeli farmers employ many Thai citizens. On Oct. 7, some of the Thai farm workers witnessed their co-workers being kidnapped. Some even saw their friends brutally murdered by Hamas. Our younger son, along with other volunteers, has been helping Thai workers find necessary food, lodging and medical care. Volunteers organized counselors and translators to help these people deal with what could easily turn into post-traumatic stress disorder, or PTSD. Volunteers advocated for these Thai workers with the Ministry of Agriculture and with local councils. At this point, many (estimates are 8,000 out of 30,000) Thai farm workers have left Israel.
In some places, acupuncturists and massage therapists are offering free sessions to people who have been evacuated. Several social workers and psychologists continue to give voluntary assistance to those put up in Dead Sea hotels.
Volunteerism is not just with people, it is also with animals. Volunteers have gone to the south to rescue pets and farm animals that were left behind. Veterinarians have provided medical care for injured animals. The rescued animals are now in shelters, awaiting foster homes.
Last, but certainly not least. In the big cities such as Tel Aviv and Jerusalem, many have been showing up at memorial services and vigils for the fallen and the kidnapped.
Why are people doing all these things? I think the best answer comes from Hillel in the Ethics of the Fathers (Pirkei Avot), 1:14: “If I am only for myself, who am I? If not now, when?”
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.
Since the success of the 2006 pilot, the One Happy Camper program has expanded across North America. To date, 64,000 campers have experienced Jewish overnight camp as a result of FJC’s partnership with 40 community-based organizations (federations/foundations), four national camp movements, 30 individual camps, the Harold Grinspoon Foundation’s PJ Goes to Camp program and the Jim Joseph Foundation-funded JWest program.
