Opinion – Page 82

Rapper makes us proud

Matisyahu, the reggae rapper whose refusal to be bullied into a political pledge resulted in his being removed from the lineup of a Spanish music festival, was eventually allowed to perform last weekend.

Global outrage over the politicizing of the musical event – and the potential whiff of antisemitism – led organizers of the Rototom Sunsplash Festival to reverse their demand that the Jewish American musician pledge support for an independent Palestine. (Not a two-state solution, mind you, or a negotiated settlement of the conflict.)

After he received an apology, Matisyahu accepted the invitation to play after all. He mounted the stage to heckles and chants of “out, out,” from multiple audience members waving large Palestinian flags.

“Let music be your flag,” he urged the audience as he proceeded with his 45-minute set, ending with a spine-tingling rendition of “Jerusalem,” a defiant anthem of Jewish survival and resilience: “3,000 years with no place to be / And they want me to give up my milk and honey,” he sang. “Don’t you see, it’s not about the land or the sea / Not the country but the dwelling of His majesty … Rebuild the Temple and the crown of glory / Years gone by, about sixty / Burn in the oven in this century / And the gas tried to choke, but it couldn’t choke me / I will not lie down, I will not fall asleep.… Afraid of the truth and our dark history / Why is everybody always chasing we?”

The incident was a nasty one, certainly, but its lesson is beautiful. Do not let bullies win, whether they attack you because of who you are or the ideas you carry. It is an issue we reflected on locally earlier this summer when outside forces attacked our community for hosting speakers from the New Israel Fund and it is an issue we face continually from the BDS movement, which, in the Matisyahu imbroglio, has shown its true colors.

Matisyahu also showed his. And it was a thing to see.

Adler’s action unseemly

The memory of the Holocaust is frequently misused and abused. Enemies of Israel exploit the memory and imagery of the Shoah, using it against Zionists to deliberately cause pain. Many people unintentionally diminish this history by nonchalantly throwing around terms associated with the Nazi era.

Earlier this year, Project Democracy, a group that aims to convince Canadians to vote for the candidate in their riding most likely to defeat the Conservative candidate, produced a meme with a picture of Prime Minister Stephen Harper and the words: “Canadians fought fascism from 1939 to 1945. Why vote for it now?” This from an organization that has as the first line on its Facebook page: “Our objective … is to *raise* the bar of Canadian political discourse, not *lower* it.” Fail.

It may be especially bewildering to see those who, of all people, should know better, exploit tragic history. Recently, there was a tempest involving Ontario Conservative MP Mark Adler (again).

Adler was the MP who embarrassed himself, his party and the prime minister while on a trip to Israel last year. Harper was praying at the Western Wall when Adler, in perfect proximity to a media microphone, urged one of the PM’s handlers to let Adler get in the picture.

“This, it’s the reelection,” said Adler, whose riding has a significant concentration of Jewish voters. “This is the million-dollar shot.”

The incident undermined the Conservative party’s insistence that its support for Israel is principled, not political.

Last week, Adler was criticized for appearing to exploit his family’s own history when he advertised himself as a son of a Holocaust survivor.

This is not irrelevant information. Being Jewish and being a son of a Holocaust survivor almost certainly has an impact on the manner in which Adler’s worldview has been shaped. It was pointed out, in his defence, that other people have proudly declared their own unique heritage such as, in one instance, being the first Canadian of Asian heritage appointed to the Senate. Fair enough.

But Adler’s fault here is twofold. First, he proclaimed himself the first child of a Holocaust survivor elected to Parliament, which was quickly corrected by former Liberal MP Raymonde Folco. Folco, who represented a Montreal-area riding from 1997 to 2011, is not only a child of Holocaust survivors but a child survivor herself. She told Canadian Jewish News (see story on page 4) that it was “disgusting” for Adler “to use the Holocaust in this way, for personal ends.” She did not publicize her family’s experience before, she said, accusing Adler of “profiting” from his.

Ouch. But being incorrect on whether he was the first or second child of survivors pales when compared with the form of his use of this family history. On a large banner printed for the window of his campaign office – which has since been changed – there were four points he wanted voters to take away: “Son of a Holocaust survivor” topped the list. This was followed by “Raising my family in Bathurst Manor” (a heavily Jewish neighborhood), “Strong supporter of Israel” and “Keeping our community and the economy strong.” On another banner, the wording and order varied, but the messages were the same.

We get it. You like us. You’re one of us. But this is just unseemly.

Pledge reflects motives

In June, the Spanish government passed a law granting descendants of Sephardi Jews forced from that country in the 15th century the right to dual Spanish citizenship.

Only someone unfamiliar with the toing and froing of Jewish migrations and expulsions could be blind to the magnificence with which this move dovetails with history. For millennia, princes and fiefs, kings and counts expelled the Jews from their realms in one generation and then enticed them back in successive ones, when their perceived value rebounded or when the duchy or kingdom was in financial peril. Sometimes it took a generation, sometimes it took 600 years, as in the case of Spain, which, it should be noted, is now just a few notches above Greece on the financial solvency scale.

But Jews who consider taking up Spain’s generous offer will be taking a sober second look after recent events. OK, the events were a relatively small-scale tempest – a reggae festival in Valencia – but the lessons are wide-ranging and deeply telling.

Matisyahu, the once Chassidic, now just Jewish, reggae rapper, was disinvited from the Rototom Sunsplash Festival after he refused to sign a pledge in support of a Palestinian state. The boycott, divestment and sanctions movement had convinced the festival organizers that participants should be forced to commit to the Palestinian cause.

The quality of the performers or the wishes of the audience were secondary to the political positions of the musicians, apparently. Why this obscure music festival should become a flashpoint for a kerfuffle over the Middle East may seem baffling, but the strategy of the movement has been to demand loyalty oaths from anyone at any time in any place. Canadian film festivals, including the Toronto International Film Festival and the Vancouver Queer Film Festival, have been roiled over the topic in the past. These efforts at a “cultural boycott” are atrocious enough, but the worst tactics of the movement promote an academic boycott, which is as close as we can come to literal book-burning.

Is it additionally appalling that Matisyahu is not Israeli, but American? Sort of. The boycotters have attacked Israelis for the most part, but now they are turning their cannons on anyone who might think that Israel has a right to exist alongside a Palestinian state. (Note that the oath did not address a two-state solution. Coexistence is not top of the agenda for BDSers.)

Not all Jews are Zionists and, indeed, some Jews support the BDS movement. However, if you believe in the right of self-determination for the Palestinian people, but not for the Jewish people, then you are at the least a hypocrite.

The BDS movement, while a relatively new phenomenon, has its historical antecedents in the people who would paint Stars of David on Jewish shop windows. It is a mob of bullies for the most part, which calls itself pro-Palestinian, but exhibits nothing positive, only hatred and vilification of Israel.

Although a reggae festival might seem an odd place to start, the BDSers and the larger “pro-Palestinian” contingent could buy themselves some legitimacy by taking an oath themselves: to work together with all people to find a peaceful resolution so that two peoples can live in coexistence in Jewish and Palestinian states. It’s a pledge the Jewish people accepted in 1947-48 and have reiterated throughout the ensuing seven decades. The Matisyahu brouhaha is an example of the answer the Jewish people have received to that olive branch.

“Threat” term problematic

When it comes to Israel, many Diaspora Jews harbor a double standard. They want their own countries to embrace pluralism and multiculturalism, owing to the kind of fluid immigration that allowed their own grandparents and great-grandparents to build a better life in America and Canada and many other places across the West. But, when it comes to Israel, they are comfortable articulating their desire to maintain a Jewish majority. Israelis – even those on the left – have a term for this need: they openly refer to Palestinians (whether in the West Bank, whether refugees living abroad or whether Palestinian citizens of Israel itself) as a “demographic threat.”

Palestinian citizens of Israel are pouncing on this usage more than ever. Ayman Oudeh, head of the Joint List, has called it offensive. He wants Israeli citizens to view their Palestinian citizen brethren as partners in nation-building. Still, he is not looking for a melting-pot version of Israeli identity: he demands that Israel grant the Palestinian citizens “collective rights.” Since they already have their own school system, presumably, by collective rights he means at the very least equal funding for schools and towns, including removing the unequal bureaucratic barriers to gaining building permits, something I’ve written about at the Globe and Mail.

Yousef Munayyer is also distressed by the term “demographic threat,” and concludes that it is intrinsic to Zionism. Instead of having a demographic problem, Israel has a Zionism problem, he argued last March in The Nation. This, as Bibi was whipping up fear against the Arab minority on election day, claiming they were coming to the polls “in droves.”

The scope of the issue is more complex than these critiques – as important as they are – allow. There are at least three aspects at play.

First, strategy. There are reasons why a peace activist may choose to use the term “demographic threat” to sell the idea of withdrawal from the West Bank, for example. This kind of reasoning may appeal to those on the centre or even the right who, unfortunately, aren’t moved by human rights imperatives. When it comes to language and lobbying, we must not forget the game of persuasion.

This connects to the second aspect: emotions. Here, the question is this: without undermining democracy, can a majority population privately desire to maintain its majority status? And, in the event that these private desires are shared publicly – through art or literature, say – should the users be chastised as being anti-democratic?

Here, we need to recall what may be motivating these feelings. It may not be anti-democratic tendencies or racism or even a sense of national superiority. As a national liberation movement, Zionism was acutely concerned with Jewish self-determination, more than it was with undermining any other national group in its midst. And, along with the material gains of statehood has come the desire to sustain a modern Jewish national culture, most markedly in the form of Hebrew. To contemplate becoming a minority in one’s country is to consider the attrition of one’s national language, at the very least, if not the possibility of collective safety and self-determination. Even if the fears are unfounded, even, if, somehow, a post-Zionist Israel can engage in a project of radical multiculturalism such that Hebrew culture maintains its treasured place alongside Palestinian culture and Arabic language, the impulse is still understandable.

Finally, there are the public policies themselves. On this, there is clearly much room for improvement. Oudeh’s call for a high-profile “civics conference” in the tradition of other annual conferences in Israel on issues – including security, social issues and economics – is a good one. As is the urgent need to close the funding gap to Arab schools and towns, and to educate against casual racism, including some landlords not renting to Arabs and “social suitability” committees determining who can live where, the kind of practices outlined by Amjad Iraqi in +972 Magazine. These attitudes and the practices that stem from them are corrosive to democracy.

All this is to say that the creation and maintenance of national identity, particularly in a state as young as Israel, is an enormous project. Using the term “demographic threat” as a way of describing the actual collective emotions and preferences of some citizens is as useful as any analytic phrase. To censor it completely, therefore, would be anti-intellectual and anti-democratic. But, when it comes to policy advocacy, thoughtful Israelis should consider thinking twice about using these words. As citizens of democracies, we should at least strive to hear things as our fellow citizens hear them.

Mira Sucharov is an associate professor of political science at Carleton University. She blogs at Haaretz and the Jewish Daily Forward. A version of this article was originally published on haartez.com.

Another option?

When the Iranian nuclear agreement was revealed recently, a former Swedish prime minister tweeted: “I think the work of the Nobel committee of the Norwegian Parliament this year just got much easier.”

The work of the Nobel committee has not been flawless overall. They bestowed the honor on Yasser Arafat before the world discovered that the old terrorist had not changed his spots. And, in 2009, they awarded it to a newly elected U.S. President Barack Obama, apparently as an aspirational move intended to recognize things the committee hoped he would do, rather than anything he had already done.

If the parties involved in the Iranian deal receive the Nobel, it will be no less aspirational, although we all hope for the best.

The amount of ink (or its digital equivalent) spilled on the subject of the Iranian nuclear deal possibly surpasses that associated with any diplomatic arrangement in history. The Treaty of Versailles, the Munich Agreement (“Peace in our time!”) and the Potsdam Agreement took place in times when not everyone had a squawking lectern, as we all now do in the digital world. The volume of opinions – in both the auditory and magnitudinal senses of the term – have been vast.

This is one of the reasons, as acknowledged in last week’s issue, that we have not devoted enormous space to the topic. One would need to be a hermit to have avoided the agitated attitudes on one side of the topic or the other.

Yet there has been very little nuance in this discussion. Either the agreement, as the American politician and cable news mouthpiece Mike Huckabee says, leads Israelis “to the door of the oven,” or it guarantees Iran, as the “pro-Israel, pro-peace” organization J Street posited in a big spread in the New York Times, “Zero pathways to the bomb.”

There is, frankly, no way to tell at this point whether the agreement augurs peace or disaster. Everything you hear about it is opinion, conjecture. It will take 20, 50, 100 years or more to know whether this was a good deal or a catastrophic one.

By this very statement, we acknowledge the significance of the issue. Whatever one thinks about the agreement, this is nothing less than an existential matter. Extreme comments may well be excused because the stakes are literally as high as they could possibly be for the Jewish people. The Western powers have made a deal with a theocracy that has sworn repeatedly, emphatically and unequivocally to eradicate Israel from the planet.

The agreement is intended to prevent that genocidally obsessed regime from obtaining nuclear weapons. If it succeeds, it will remove an unparalleled threat to the Jewish people. If it fails, the outcome is unthinkable. The problem we face as people living in the present is that we cannot foresee which outcome the agreement portends. But the question is, what’s the alternative?

There is a campaign afoot to convince members of the U.S. Congress to reject the deal, which would scupper it. (Iran’s “parliament” has also scheduled a vote – after the American vote, presumably so they don’t look like dupes should the legislators of the Great Satan reject it after they have endorsed it.)

But the alternative to an imperfect deal has been the issue from the start. According to experts, the Iranian nuclear infrastructure has been built specifically to protect it from most external military threats, developed in missile-proof bunkers and diverse locations that make military intervention exceedingly difficult.

In an ideal and less dangerous world, of course, the mass of Iranian people – whose grandparents and even parents recall life as part of the pre-revolution world – would rise up against their oppressors and demand a democratic society determined to live in peace with their neighbors and the world.

In the meantime, we are faced with this: a terrible, hateful Iranian regime that has made at least a kabuki of a diplomatic overture, which evokes the words of Moshe Dayan. “If you want to make peace, you don’t talk to your friends. You talk to your enemies.”

Poet chooses politics over love?

In times of protracted conflict, can matters of the heart exist apart from politics? An award-winning documentary from Israeli filmmaker Ibtisam Mara’ana Menuhin left me at once spellbound, uplifted, sad and restless, as I found myself wrestling with this question.

Write Down, I am an Arab depicts the life of Palestinian national poet Mahmoud Darwish. The politics is important – more on that below – but what makes the film especially gripping is the story of Darwish’s catapult to national and international fame against the backdrop of his private longings for a woman on the other side of the Palestinian-Jewish divide.

Darwish met Tamar Ben Ami in the early 1960s at a political rally – this one for the Communist party in Israel. Frequently separated geographically – he under military administration (as all Arab citizens were until 1966) in Haifa, she studying in Jerusalem – Darwish documented his feelings for her in a series of letters.

I spoke with Tamar – by phone, Facebook and email – over the course of a few days. A dancer and choreographer (the film chronicles her stint in the Israeli navy’s performing troupe), Tamar divides her time between Tel Aviv and Berlin. She describes her art – and really her entire personal life – as being shaped by her time with Darwish. Her love for him is palpable, still.

Caught up as I am as a political scientist and columnist in contemplating political arrangements – refugees, Jerusalem, borders, one-state, two-state, federation or separation – Tamar operates differently.

“It’s cliché, and maybe I sound naive, but I believe in unconditional love,” Tamar tells me when I ask her what kind of political future she envisions. She is disturbed by what she sees as the artificial divisions of nations, races, ethnicities and religions, including what she sees as a dangerous interpretation of Jewish chosenness. “On this, the occupation has been nurtured.”

And, while it’s hard to disagree, I find myself confounded. Is the Palestinian national struggle one over occupation? Is it about the West Bank settlements, the land appropriation, the checkpoints and night raids and administrative detention? Or is it about the stones and earth of Palestinian towns and villages within Israel itself to which many Palestinians long to return? And, if it is the latter, how can the two national dreams ever be squared?

In the film, we see video footage of Darwish meeting a resident of Kibbutz Yas’ur, which was founded on the ruins of Darwish’s childhood village, al-Birwa. “It’s a moment of sadness and hope,” Darwish says to the man. “The sadness is that I’m not allowed to go back to that place and you have the right to go back there. But if we have the ability to be friends and we are friends, then peace is still possible.”

On one hand, it’s a wholly human encounter. On the other hand, once we put the subject of Israeli towns, cities and kibbutzim within pre-1967 Israel on the table, we are talking about the core of Israel’s identity, one which Israelis – and most Jews worldwide – are loathe to give up. And, if I’m really honest with myself, as a (liberal) Zionist who shares the Jewish national dream of those kibbutzniks, then perhaps the pain is also mine.

Nowhere was the tension between resisting occupation and demanding more fundamental claims more evident than in Darwish’s highly controversial 1988 poem called “Passers Between the Passing Words.” There, Darwish wrote: “It is time for you to be gone. Live wherever you like, but do not live among us…. For we have work to do in our land. So leave our country, our land, our sea, our wheat, our salt, our wounds, everything; and leave.”

With the first intifada raging at the time, Tamar is certain that the poem is about the occupation, not about Israel itself. “What can the occupied do?” Tamar recalls Darwish saying. The irony is that Darwish didn’t even think it was a good poem, Tamar says. To be judged by that poem pained him, and more than anything he longed to be considered a universal poet, Tamar adds.

After the 1988 poem controversy, Tamar found herself in Paris, trying to reconnect with Darwish, who was now at the centre of Palestinian politics. While she was sitting with him, Darwish took a call from Yasser Arafat. They spoke in Arabic. She could not make out what they were saying. The next day, when she called him again, Darwish rebuffed her: “You are not my girlfriend.”

We can never know whether Darwish, who died in 2008, chose politics over matters of the heart, or whether this unkind ending was just like so many ruptures between once-lovers: prosaic and universal.

But Darwish and Tamar did have contact again. After Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin’s assassination, Darwish reached out to her in compassion. And, in 2000, Education Minister Yossi Sarid attempted to introduce two Darwish poems to the Israeli (Jewish) national curriculum. Stormy Knesset debate ensued, and the government narrowly survived a no-confidence vote. Darwish called Tamar. “My poetry is so important that over it the government nearly fell?” he mused.

Though their romance had ended, they clearly shared a sense of absurdity in how the universal language of poetry can be thrust into the forefront of the ugly struggles over land, narratives, history and invisibility. It’s a story that continues to be told, even as Tamar will always think in terms of interpersonal love as much as in terms of borders and territory.

Journey is a crucial experience

The Coast-to-Coast March of the Living group, as well as a few Israeli youth, in Israel. (photo from Talya Katzen)

This past spring, I took part in the March of the Living 2015 program – a two-week trip to Poland and Israel, where people from 45 different countries are brought together to learn about the Holocaust and the current state of Judaism in Israel.

The trip was the most emotional and heartbreaking two weeks of my life. I never could have anticipated the kind of life-changing journey I was about to embark on.

photo - Participants in March of the Living stand together in front of the ashes of those murdered in the concentration camp, Majdanek — Participants in March of the Living stand together in front of the ashes of those murdered in the concentration camp, Majdanek. (photo from Talya Katzen)

The week in Poland was extremely draining, and I came to many realizations. I felt so strongly about things I simply cannot put into words. Our pre-trip informational sessions came nowhere near to preparing me for what I was going to witness. How can anything prepare you for walking through a gas chamber where, just 70 years ago, thousands of innocent lives were erased each day? Pictures may speak louder than words, but physically being there is like a blood-curdling scream right in your face.

Each day’s event was a new brick dropped on my shoulders and, as the bricks piled up, I came to appreciate more and more the wonderful life I have been blessed with. The weather in Poland was cold and windy, spitting rain into our eyes as we walked through extermination camps, cemeteries and ghettos in our warm down coats and hats. Our complaints about the cold were no match to the below-zero temperatures that those starving prisoners in the thousands of concentration camps across Europe had to face day in and day out.

The tour of Majdanek concentration camp was truly an experience that will be with me for the rest of my life. The defining moment of the journey was visiting the monument that holds the ashes of the victims of the camp. A recording of the prisoners, just liberated from Bergen-Belsen, singing “Hatikvah” began to play as we all stood hand-in-hand. My mind was blank and completely full at the same time. The mutual sorrow all we marchers felt was overpowering. A connection to one another that I doubt will ever be broken.

photo - Left to right, Talya Katzen, Hayley Kardash, Shauna Miller and Alyssa Diamond participate in Yom Ha’atzmaut celebrations in Israel — Left to right, Talya Katzen, Hayley Kardash, Shauna Miller and Alyssa Diamond participate in Yom Ha’atzmaut celebrations in Israel. *(photo from Talya Katzen)*

This feeling of grief was flipped on its back upon our arrival in the beautiful state of Israel, a country that is now home to Jews who have survived some of the worst events in history – and prospered. I was fortunate to be there during the festival that celebrates Israeli Independence Day. Israelis gather together to celebrate community and overcoming many hardships. Having just experienced the height of grief in Poland, I could not have been more grateful for Israel, and the promise it holds for the Jewish people. Of course, our celebrations of freedom were constantly overshadowed by the memory of those who perished in Europe, who never had the chance to visit our homeland. It made me realize how absolutely crucial it is for young Jewish people of the world to experience this journey so that we may never forget.

March of the Living taught me that I have family all over the world who are just as passionate about keeping Judaism alive as I am, and that it is completely up to us to carry the torch from generation to generation, to keep the flame of the Jewish people burning forever. I am a third-generation survivor and it is my duty to be a witness, to live out the lives of those who never had the chance to see their 10th or 18th or 85th birthday simply because of who they were. Hitler and the Nazis may have been successful in murdering millions of people who didn’t fit their blueprint of the ideal race, but they failed miserably in taking away our Jewish identity. I am a person, I am a witness, I am a Jew, and no one can take that away from me.

Talya Katzen originally wrote this article as a Lord Byng Secondary school assignment. Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver offsets the cost of March of the Living by $2,000 for each local participant. The funds for this are generated through the Federation annual campaign, and are distributed to participants through the Israel and Overseas Connections fund. Jewish Federation also provides support through staff resources, program leader training and participant education.

What’s next with Iran deal

Given the copious amount that has been written on the Iran deal, we publish this summary of key points by American Jewish Congress to help readers wade through the various articles and blogs, and form their own opinion about the deal:

The historic deal with Iran intended to curb its nuclear weapons program will receive a full airing in the U.S. Congress in the next several weeks. The following is a short summary of key points to keep in mind as the debate unfolds:

Several steps must be taken before the Iran deal goes into effect. Congress has 60 days to review the deal’s terms, hold hearings, conduct a debate and take a vote in both the House and Senate.
If Congress passes a resolution of disapproval and sends it to President Barack Obama for his signature, he has 12 days to veto the resolution. The president has said already that he would take such action, if necessary.
Many members of both parties in Congress have expressed deep skepticism. Israel is lobbying hard against it; Gulf states, led by Saudi Arabia, also oppose the deal, but are conducting their lobbying efforts more quietly.
The deal also must be brought to the United Nations Security Council. It is unclear at this time if that will happen before or after a congressional vote.
No sanctions will be lifted before the end of this year. The International Atomic Energy Agency (IAEA) first must provide, by Dec. 15, a baseline assessment of Iran’s possible military activities relative to its past nuclear program.
The IAEA will be given “when necessary, where necessary” access to monitor Iranian compliance, with a mechanism that gives Iran up to 24 days before permitting inspectors to visit designated sites.
This “managed access” falls well short of the president’s earlier assertion that the IAEA must be allowed to have intrusive access on an “anytime, anywhere” basis.
The current UN arms embargo will remain in place for five years and UN ballistic missile sanctions will stay in place for eight years, though both time periods can be reduced if Iran is judged to be acting in full compliance with the deal.
The lifting of the arms embargo is outside the parameters set by President Obama, who repeatedly said during negotiations that only issues related to the nuclear file were legitimate subjects for compromise.
Economic sanctions against Iran will be removed in stages, with some frozen assets scheduled to be released when the deal moves to implementation by the end of the year, in which case Iran is expected to benefit from $100 billion to $150 billion in cash.
Many observers are concerned that Iran, whose current annual defence budget is approximately $30 billion, will use the influx of cash to support proxies such as Hezbollah in Lebanon and Syria, Hamas in the Gaza Strip and Houthi rebels in Yemen, and to foment instability throughout the region with greater funding to the Iranian Revolutionary Guard and the al-Quds force’s efforts in Iraq and Syria. This is on top of billions in expected oil revenues and the significant economic bump Iran is expected to enjoy through increased commerce with the international community.
Sanctions can be restored should Iran violate the deal, though most observers are highly dubious that so-called “snapback” provisions will be effective.
The deal will be terminated 10 years from the date of its adoption as long as Iran does not violate UN sanctions, though there are elements of it that have a 15-year life expectancy.

Our right to discussion

Pamela Geller is a bully of global standing. And recently she turned her sights on our community.

Geller is an American writer, blogger, activist and president of the American Freedom Defence Initiative, which the respected Southern Poverty Law Centre calls an anti-Muslim hate group. Her provocations came to greatest public attention when she opposed construction of an Islamic community centre in New York City that was criticized for being somewhat adjacent to the World Trade Centre site.

Somehow, earlier this month, a local Shabbat dinner discussion that was to be facilitated by a New Israel Fund of Canada representative drew her attention.

On July 8, Geller posted on her blog an article titled “United Synagogue of Conservative Judaism supports boycott against Israel.” Like almost everything else on her website, the short piece is deceptive, manipulative, unfair and false. In it, she accuses Congregation Har El in West Vancouver, which was set to host the event targeted to the under-40 crowd, of supporting “the boycott against Israel” and writes that “the traitors of New Israel Fund give information to the United Nations to harm Israel’s soldiers.…”

The New Israel Fund describes itself as the “nation’s leading organization committed to democracy and equality among all Israelis.” It supports human rights organizations in Israel, among which people of almost any political persuasion could probably find something objectionable. But NIF unequivocally does not support the boycotting of Israel. Whatever one might think of its political orientation or those of the frontline groups it funds, it is a legitimate nonprofit agency functioning under the laws of Israel. If it weren’t, the Israeli government would have shut it down.

But the legitimacy of the New Israel Fund is, at best, secondary to the larger issues here. Never mind that Geller extrapolates one event at a single synagogue to represent the views of the entire global Conservative movement – that is silliness that doesn’t warrant refutation – the fact is that Geller was able to kibosh an event in our community. Given the power of bullying in general, and the power of this bully in particular, we cannot blame the organization involved for shying away from the event, though we regret that it happened.

Two other New Israel Fund of Canada events are scheduled to take place in Vancouver in the fall. On Sept. 9, a symposium featuring Ronit Heyd, executive director of Shatil, and Jonathan Kay, editor-in-chief of The Walrus magazine, will engage with the audience on the topic The Backstory: Behind What You Know About Israel. On Nov. 16-17, Anat Hoffman, executive director of the Israel Religious Action Centre, will tackle the topic From the Back of the Bus to the Top of the Agenda.

Any external threats to these events proceeding should be met by our community with a united voice – regardless of our political views. It is our community’s right to discuss whatever issues we deem important – and to determine where the limits, if any, of that discussion lay.

Searching for my ohmmmm

I’ve never really been able to meditate. At least not in the formal way most people depict meditation. There have been no ohhmmmm moments for this guy.

Oh, I’ve tried – with the most patient teacher I’ve ever known. But “calm” doesn’t seem to help me clear my mind. It actually opens the door for every possible thought to prance around like they own the place. Instead of walking out of a meditation session with a sense of peace, I’d walk out with a long to-do list of things I just remembered I had to do.

That said, several years ago I realized that I do have meditation’s version of a best friend (for me anyway) … ice hockey! While going through a challenge-filled time in my life I discovered that no matter what was going on in my noggin all day, the moment I stepped onto the ice to compete my mind immediately focused on one thing and one thing only – the game in front of me. My focus became singular for that minute or so shift.

I mean, who has room to think about stresses at work or home when your heart is being pushed to 170 bpm while being chased down the ice by a 235 lb dude on sharp blades? I was grateful I had that escape.

I found that kind of focus again recently when I took on the infamous Grouse Grind – Greater Vancouver’s natural supplement for addicts of torture and misery.

Prior to this summer I had avoided the Grind for several years. With the exception of the cold beer that awaited at the top, I never enjoyed a darn thing about past climbs. However, now 25 lbs lighter and in much better shape than I was in my “why can’t we have nachos for breakfast?” days, I was actually looking forward to seeing how it felt this time around.

OK, well, it still seemed like a fairly torturous way to spend a Sunday morning (you were expecting me to love it, weren’t you!?). I pushed myself hard enough that throughout the final quarter I wasn’t sure if I’d die of an exploding chest or simply by passing out and falling backwards.

However, guided by pride (rather than beer), I creamed my old times with a solid 46-minute scamper. Aside from the personal sense of accomplishment and still-functioning lungs, what I really took from my excursion up Grouse Mountain was that discovery of another personal form of meditation.

Not more than 10 steps into the trek, my mind narrowed in on two simple things until the very end. I saw only the next step/rock I needed to take and heard only my breath – I don’t even remember the music playing in my headphones.

The half-way marker. Which arrives when most expect the finish to appear.

For 46 minutes I thought of nothing except what was right in front of me and the life that ran through my body.

I do wish I could find such life clarity in a less strenuous environment from time to time – say, bearing down on a bowl of chicken wings or buying shoes (don’t judge) – but I think it’s important for everyone to find their meditative niche and connect with it when time permits. Despite complete exhaustion and tight quads, I came off of the mountain feeling mentally refreshed in a way I hadn’t been in a long time.

Go out and find your cup of refreshing ohmmmmm. It’ll be worth it!