Diaspora – Page 5

Expanding food savvy

Kat Romanow is director of food programming at the Museum of Jewish Montreal. (photo from Kat Romanow)

Kat Romanow has taken upon herself the challenge of teaching people more about Jewish food in one of Canada’s most Jewish cities.

“I started studying Judaism in my undergrad and, at the end of it, food was something that sparked my interest,” said Romanow. “I ended up going to Boston for a summer to do an internship and it was there that all of this coalesced.

“Jewish food is what I want to study academically. I also felt a connection to Judaism – Shabbat dinners, shul … I get the non-academic Jewish things, and it was there I realized I felt a deep connection to it. That’s when I knew I wanted to convert. It’s a connection I didn’t necessarily feel in Catholicism, but I found in Judaism – the community, rituals … things that really speak to me and bring meaning to my life.”

Romanow was born and raised in Montreal and is currently the director of food programming at the Museum of Jewish Montreal, where she runs and manages Fletchers, the museum’s restaurant.

Founded in 2010, the museum offers walking tours of historic Jewish neighbourhoods, numerous online exhibits and a large oral history collection. And, now that they have a physical space – which they acquired about a year ago – they also offer lectures, workshops and pop-up exhibitions.

Romanow majored in Jewish food history at Concordia University and, in conjunction with the museum and a friend, developed a walking tour called The Wandering Chew.

“We aimed to teach people about lesser-known Jewish food traditions through pop-up dinners, cooking workshops and other food events,” said Romanow. “That’s where I got the cooking experience, holding pop-up dinners for 30 to 40 people. We’d find the community we wanted to explore, interview people from the community, including getting their recipes, put together a menu and do a dinner.”

The goal was to expand people’s knowledge about Jewish food. “Here, in Montreal, you automatically think of bagels and smoked meat,” said Romanow. “But, our aim was to go beyond that and show people that Jewish food is very diverse and is made up of a lot of different cuisine and dishes.”

At Fletchers, they serve foods during the day that draw from the flavours of the diverse communities highlighted on the walking tours. And, in the evening, one can find a variety of workshops, meals and cookbook launches.

Romanow has been selected to represent Montreal at the ROI (Return on Investment) Summit in Jerusalem July 2-6. The summit brings together 150 of the brightest Jewish minds from around the world to brainstorm ideas for the future.

“I’m really excited,” said Romanow. “It’s also my first time going to Israel. For the summit, I’m most excited about getting to meet all these other young Jews doing really cool projects … making connections and sharing ideas. We’ll learn from each other and build off of what we’re all doing. So, I think, coming out of this, I’ll be full of new ideas and inspiration. I’ve already received emails and I can see potential future collaboration.”

Romanow is planning to stay in Israel after the summit, to visit the country, experience the Israeli food scene and get some new ideas for Fletchers.

Something she has found lately is that people in their 20s and 30s are becoming more open to exploring different ways of making the food they grew up with different, putting their own mark on it.

“There’s now a community of younger Jews who are reintroducing people to what Jewish food is,” said Romanow. “I want to keep adding to the menu and keep holding more and more events, so that people can really engage with their Jewish identity through food on a regular basis.

“But, I also aim to write a cookbook about exploring Jewish food in the Diaspora. That’s what I’ve been doing with the Wandering Chew. I think the cookbook is the next step. I’m in the process of writing the proposal, so hopefully in the next few years it will come out.”

For now, Romanow plans to delve deeper into local Jewish food history, as she balances running Fletchers, the Wandering Chew dinners and walking tours of the local Jewish food scene, which are called Beyond the Bagel.

Through Beyond the Bagel, Romanow said, “We go to places like Schwartz’s and we eat bagels. But, I did all kinds of archival research and oral history interviews … and so you get to go deeper into the history of these places.

“At our space (at the museum), we also have a boutique where we sell things related to Jewish history and Montreal – books, locally made products. And we use it as an event space … concerts, lectures and many more.

“Right now, we have Yiddish classes there, too, and photo exhibits that change throughout the year related to Jewish culture. We’re not a traditional museum, one that you go into and look at objects. You can come to the space, grab a bite, browse the boutique and also go on one of the walking tours or onto the website.”

For more information, visit imjm.ca.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Canada, Israel, Jews

When Canada belatedly opened its door to Jewish refugees – to some of the surviving remnant after the Holocaust – it did so not out of an abundance of humanitarianism but because of economic necessity, the need for skilled and unskilled workers in a booming economy.

Regardless of the motivation, that influx of refugees redefined Jewish identity in Canada. The increased Jewish population and the institutions they spawned essentially built the community we know today.

As former Vancouverite Adara Goldberg described in her book Holocaust Survivors in Canada: Exclusion, Inclusion, Transformation, 1947–1955, the institutions that we now see as the organized Jewish community were created for and by the refugees and immigrants who came after the war. By contrast, those who came to the United States after the war were greeted by and largely assimilated into a strong Jewish community already in progress.

This has had several corollaries. The worldview of Canadian Jewish institutions – and, though not easily verifiable, probably a majority of Jewish Canadians individually – is imbued with the understandable anxieties imprinted on those who witnessed the rise of fascism and lived through it.

On the flip side, the Canadian Jewish community as we know it can be said to have been born almost contemporaneously with the state of Israel. Again, while Zionism is entwined with the American Jewish community, that community had many other preexisting cultural and political dimensions. In Canada, the rebirth and survival of the Jewish state occurred at the most impressionable period in the community’s history. As well, the idea of Jewish self-determination as the surest path to individual and collective security resonated powerfully with a community disproportionately made up of survivors of the Shoah. Moreover, Canada’s approach to multiculturalism, especially after 1967, differed from the American “melting pot” and suspicion of “dual loyalties.”

So, the nature of Diaspora-Israel relations is different for Canadians versus Americans. Yet, some of the challenges are the same.

A new essay by David Hazony, editor of the American Jewish magazine The Tower, takes a new tack on the topic of American Jewry’s existential challenges. The Jewish population is not only declining, he notes, but changing. The only demographic that is flourishing is the Orthodox, which is not necessarily reflective of what would have been recognized as “American Jewry” in the 1950s and ’60s. The two most-recognized paths to avoid assimilation, he says, are currently orthodoxy and aliyah – but he suggests a third way.

Hazony posits that the answer to challenges facing American Jews right now is a little more Israel. The essay reviews concerns that American (read: Diaspora) Jews and Israelis are talking across a widening divide. Hazony’s suggestion is that Americans, who have for generations viewed Israel as a political cause, begin to integrate Israeliness as a cultural characteristic and embrace it as the future of their Diaspora identity. For instance, he says, Diaspora Jews immersing ourselves in Israeli cinema, even with subtitles, will give us a remedial entry point into the culture.

Language – not an easy thing to learn, particularly for notoriously unilingual Americans, Hazony acknowledges – is another important entry point.

“Without Hebrew,” he writes, “any approach to Israeliness will be like walking into an enormous library in a foreign language but relegated to the tiny English-language section.”

He suggests a network of Hebrew language and culture centres modeled on the French example. How many times have you driven by the Alliance Française building south of Oakridge?

Finally, travel. Just 27% of Americans have visited Israel more than once, he notes. To understand a place, you have to go there.

The essay is fascinating and offers ideas that could both strengthen Diaspora communities and narrow the gap between us and our Israeli cousins.

As Canada Day festivities unfurl in the coming days, we will see the familiar dictum “The world needs more Canada.” In some ways, we can proudly say, the world would indeed be a more peaceful, cooperative and respectful place if Canadian models were emulated elsewhere. Like any country, we have our flaws, our oppressive history and current inequalities. But, as countries go, we’re pretty good.

Hazony is taking a similar tack, arguing that Diaspora Jews need a little more Israeliness.

In Vancouver, we are very fortunate that our Jewish community centre has, for longer than we can remember, recognized the vital importance of connections with Israel. A plethora of other Israel-related organizations keep these bonds strong.

While pondering what is great about Canada in the coming week, we might also reflect on the value of integrating more Israeli culture into our lives. It can enrich us individually and enhance Canadian multiculturalism, too.

Jews under the rule of Timur

A statue of Amir Timur. (photo by Deborah Rubin Fields)

The 14th century was not a great time for European Jewry, to say the least – there were various kinds of persecution, including forced conversions, expulsions and massacres, especially in Western Europe. Yet, the Jews of what is now Uzbekistan got through this period relatively unmolested.

Turko-Mongol military leader Timur (Iron), who ruled from 1370 to his death in 1405, is also known historically as Tamerlane, from the Persian Timur-i lang (Timur the Lame), and Amir Timur (or Temur).

Timur conquered central Asia and parts of India – today’s Iraq, Iran, Afghanistan, Pakistan, Azerbaijan, Georgia, Uzbekistan, Turkmenistan, Tajikistan, Kyrgyzstan, large chunks of Turkey and Syria, and the northwestern portion of India. While it is estimated that his armies killed 17 million people, about five percent of the global population at the time, it seems he left Jews alone.

“Over the years, the moral justification for [Timur’s] campaigns … had evolved into a formality,” writes Justin Marozzi in Tamerlane: Sword of Islam, Conqueror of the World. “If the objects of his attentions happened to be Muslim, as they almost invariably were, then they had become bad Muslims. If they were infidels, so much the better.” Yet Michael Shterenshis, in Tamerlane and the Jews, contends that Timur did not consider Jews as infidels, at least not infidels needing to be violently eliminated, perhaps because they had no political ambitions and all they sought was Timur’s protection.

It would seem that Timur’s Jews were of more service alive than dead – which is a good thing, as Timur once reportedly constructed 28 towers from 70,000 of his enemies’ skulls, each tower consisting of 2,500 heads. According to Shterenshis, the ruler primarily used his Jewish subjects as taxpayers and skilled artisans. Jewish weavers and dyers contributed greatly to his efforts to rebuild the region and to reinstitute the abandoned Silk Road, which connected Europe to Asia.

Yu Datkhaev’s The Bukharan Jews is mentioned in Alanna E. Cooper’s Bukharan Jews and the Dynamics of Global Judaism. According to Cooper, Datkhaev argues that the term “Bukharan Jews” came to be after Timur moved several hundred Jewish families from Bukhara to Samarkand to assist in overhauling Samarkand, his designated capitol. These Jews reportedly lived near Timur’s recently rehabilitated and stunning Registan.

Timur’s Jewish subjects appear to have been loyal followers. Indeed, while Jews are not mentioned in his court history, there is a preserved letter from Herat physicians who ask the permission of Shah Rukh (one of Timur’s sons) to treat Timur’s injured soldiers. Significantly, they are offering their services to the state army, notes Shterenshis.

photo - Timur depicted on Uzbekistan’s 500 som note — Timur depicted on Uzbekistan’s 500 som note. *(photo by Deborah Rubin Fields)*

Timur seemingly responded in kind. He never issued anti-Jewish proclamations, laws, orders or restrictions. He never oppressed the Jews for being Jews, says Shterenshis. Under Timur, he adds, Jews were able to own houses and land, and they could be farmers – the regime did not impose upon Jews the role of moneylenders.

Jews under Timur’s reign were better off than the Jews of Europe and those in the Mamluk Sultanate, but were worse off than those who lived under the Mongols of China. Under Timur, Jews enjoyed a legal, but inferior status, writes Shterenshis. In contrast to their appointed role in other countries, Timur’s Jews were not particularly used as translators or envoys and their main occupations seem to have been as artisans, local merchants and doctors, says Shterenshis, noting that Jewish doctors under Timur did not enjoy the enhanced status they had previously, from the 10th to 12th centuries. Nonetheless, in local Jewish legends, Tamerlane is painted in a favourable light, says the historian, and is even supposed to have moved the Prophet Daniel’s remains to a tomb in Samarkand.

Some sources indicate that the Jewish presence in Samarkand pre-dates Timur’s rule. Tenth-century Samarkand (as well as Khorezm, Osh and Kokand) apparently hosted famous Jewish scholars, known in the singular as khabr, a word derived from the Hebrew chaver (friend or colleague), “which they used to distinguish themselves from ‘commoners,’” writes Irena Vladimirsky in “The Jews of Kyrgyzstan” (bh.org.il/jews-kyrgyzstan).

Indeed, the notion that Jews had been living in Central Asia prior to Timur’s rise to power is reinforced by the late-12th-century traveling Jewish chronicler Binyamin M’tudela (Benjamin of Tudela), who described this community as having as many as 50,000 members, among them “wise and very rich men.” Furthermore, the Samarkand community apparently appointed someone as nasi (head) of their community, who collected the requisite taxes of a recognized ahl al-demma (protected group).

In that period, Jews reportedly made Samarkand a major Jewish centre, and community members contributed to the construction of Samarkand’s aqueduct.

In the centuries after Timur, Jews came to dominate the region’s textile and dye industry, according to historian Giora Pozailov.

Uzbekistan’s aging Jewish population is now mainly concentrated in the cities of Tashkent, Samarkand and Bukhara. Even before the demise of the Soviet Union, Uzbek Jews began leaving, mainly for the United States and Israel. As the JTA article “Dwindling at home, Central Asia’s Bukharian Jews thrive in

Diaspora,” which can be found at ucsj.org, notes, Bukhara’s two synagogues almost never open at the same time, so that at least one of them has a minyan.

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.

U.S.-Israel relations in Norman

Richard Gere, left, as Norman Oppenheimer and Lior Ashkenazi as Micha Eshel. In the unlikely confines of an upscale shoe store, the two characters forge a connection that will have profound ramifications. (photo by Niko Tavernise, Courtesy of Sony Pictures Classics)

The marvelous tragicomedy Norman: The Moderate Rise and Tragic Fall of a New York Fixer depicts an aging, desperate Jewish influence peddler who has survived in a shark-eat-minnow world via a smooth patter that blends alleged connections with half-promises.

Through manipulation, charm and luck, Norman (a poignant Richard Gere) devises a rendezvous with a minor Israeli deputy minister (Lior Ashkenazi) at loose ends in the Big Apple. In the unlikely confines of an upscale shoe store, they forge a connection that will have profound ramifications for both men – for better and for worse.

The film, which opens today, April 28, marks the first movie that acclaimed writer-director Joseph Cedar has shot in his birthplace. Cedar grew up in Israel from the age of 6, returned to New York to earn his degree in film at New York University and established himself as one of Israel’s finest filmmakers with Time of Favour, Campfire and a pair of Academy Award nominees for best foreign language film, Beaufort and Footnote.

The soft-spoken Cedar allows that he’s exceptionally familiar with both sides of the complicated dynamic between Israel and American Jews.

“It’s a messy relationship, which, from my point of view, justifies the film,” he said. “There’s something fascinating about what Israelis think of Americans and what they expect from Americans, and how Americans view Israel, how they view Israelis and what Israel is for their identity. All these things are a big part of my conversations, so the movie allowed me to touch some of the things that are vital to my life.”

Cedar has a simple explanation for some of the curious behaviour that takes place at high-level meetings between the countries, illustrated by a scene where Ashkenazi’s character, Micha Eshel, now a figure of greater importance, lectures a U.S. diplomat visiting his Washington, D.C., hotel suite.

“One of the things that will explain so many of the encounters between Israelis and American politicians is that every time they show up they’re in jet lag,” Cedar said. “Especially around AIPAC, Israelis come to America, they’re treated like they’re Caesar and they’re a little off-balance because their time zone is all messed up. And they still have to be awake for Israeli things, so they’re sleep-deprived.”

Some viewers may presume a key plot twist in Norman was inspired by the gifts that Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu allegedly received from Arnon Milchan, but Cedar finished shooting the film before the news broke.

“That relationship, of an American Jew gifting an Israeli politician, that’s not something new and it’s not something Bibi invented, and it’s not going to go away…. This is the nucleus of what the relationship is about: Americans gift Israelis,” Cedar said. “I’m trying to understand it; I’m not introducing it. Everyone knows that that’s what it is.”

The encounter between Norman and Micha in the shoe store – on which the movie turns – is Cedar’s inspired way of conveying the complicated personal and moral aspects of any transaction between Americans and Israelis.

“All the meetings between Norman and Eshel helped me understand this relationship, and helped me understand this on an individual, human level, not on a geopolitical or policy side,” Cedar explained.

Cedar also viewed Norman’s character and fate through another prism, that of the so-called “court Jews” of past eras.

“There’s a set of characteristics of that personality that I’m attracted to,” he said. “I identify with the need to get into a close circle of power, and then the tragedy of being ultimately kicked out because you have no substance on your own. You have no safety net, no one is there to protect you, you don’t have an interest that someone else needs to protect.”

Cedar injects notes of levity and absurdity into Norman’s saga, which stem from the director’s appreciation for the long tradition in movies of characters looking bad for our amusement.

“Norman is a little less naïve and he is not as pure as [Charlie Chaplin’s] Tramp, but it’s the same kind of situations – of pushing yourself into places where you’re not invited and being kicked out,” he said.

“Cohen’s Advertising Scheme and Cohen’s Fire Sale, part of a series of [short] films from 1902 to 1907, take place in a shop or right outside the shop’s window, and [involve] a merchant trying to cheat someone and ultimately being the victim of his own scheme.”

Cedar acknowledged that some contemporary viewers will see something offensive in the Cohen films.

“Putting it in the context of the image of the Jew in cinema, these are crazy portrayals of Jews,” Cedar said. “They’re grotesque. But it’s just a form of comedy. In the ’30s, if you put that kind of character on the screen, there’s an agenda behind it. In the very beginning, I think it was just funny.”

Gere is not an actor one associates with embarrassment and pratfalls, but he is extremely effective here playing a man trying to retain his dignity amid impending disaster.

“There’s something about Norman that I thought might connect to this primal need of moviegoers to see someone make a fool out of himself, to humiliate himself more than most people are willing to humiliate themselves,” Cedar said. “It’s a form of entertainment that I enjoy.”

There’s another basic element of Norman’s character that Cedar shares, however.

“It’s being essential to something,” he said. “Norman feels if he’s not essential to other people’s projects, then he has no existence. So, his whole motive is, ‘How do I become essential to others? How do I create a situation where people are dependent on me?’ I identify with that because I have that. It’s part of me.”

Michael Fox is a writer and film critic living in San Francisco.

Dialogue needed

Robert Singer, chief executive officer of World Jewish Congress, addressed more than 100 Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver donors at an event hosted by Gary Averbach and sponsored by Garry Zlotnik of ZLC Financial. (photo from WJC)

The professional head of World Jewish Congress says Diaspora Jews and Israelis are too wrapped up in their own worlds and need to strengthen the dialogue between the two components of the global Jewish community.

Speaking to the Independent during his first-ever visit to Vancouver, Robert Singer said relations remain strong in terms of Diaspora support for Israeli organizations. Programs like Birthright, through which young Jews experience Israel, and Masa, which offers young adults gap-year, study-abroad and other opportunities, also enhance connections. But there must be more person-to-person contacts like these, he said, which foster real conversations across the divide.

“I’m not sure that both sides are talking,” said Singer. “I think both sides are busy with their own stuff. Israelis are busy with stuff in Israel and Diaspora Jews are today busy with their survival, in many cases, both financial and community survival.”

World Jewish Congress is an organization that can facilitate dialogue, he added.

WJC was founded in Geneva in 1936 and now represents Jews in 100 countries, focusing on issues including protecting the memory of the Holocaust, advocating for the recognition of the experiences of Jews from Arab lands, combating antisemitism and encouraging interfaith dialogue. The Congress is headed by Ronald Lauder, president of the executive committee. Singer, who has been the chief executive officer of WJC since 2013, previously served 14 years as the director general and CEO of World ORT, one of the largest nongovernmental education and training providers in the world. Singer was born in Ukraine and made aliyah at age 15.

While in Vancouver, Singer met with rabbis, representatives of the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs, Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver and other communal organizations. He also met with Russian-speaking members of the community and said he was impressed with Vancouver’s flourishing Jewish life. He acknowledged that British Columbia’s Jewish community faces challenges common to many similar-sized communities.

“The main thing that struck me is the issue of assimilation and how to deal with this,” he said. “Being more inclusive, bringing more people of non-Jewish faith into the community, issues of education, issues of fighting BDS and antisemitism on campuses, and issues of relations between Israel and the Diaspora.”

Interviewed days after many young Jews blockaded the AIPAC conference in Washington, D.C., Singer rejected the idea that younger Jews are alienated from Zionism.

“It’s very different,” Singer said of the way young Jews relate to Israel. Previous generations, he said, were Holocaust survivors or their descendants who knew a world without Israel. “For somebody who is now 20 years old, all this is now either history or they just don’t remember the situation where there was a world without a Jewish state.” This generation cannot be expected to have the same visceral connection to Zionism, he said. “I think it’s just a different approach. Different technologies, different approach.”

He compared the suggestion of declining Zionism with the situation among young Israelis.

“In Israel all the time they say that the previous generation was much more patriotic,” he said. Yet, when young people are conscripted into the Israel Defence Forces today, more – not fewer – are requesting assignment to the most difficult combat and elite units, he said.

“It shows that this generation of young Israelis is at least as good as the people before them and I think it’s the same in the Diaspora,” Singer said, citing the Jewish Diplomatic Corps, a WJC program of about 200 young adults from 43 countries, including international lawyers, businesspeople, parliamentarians, professors and others who meet with government leaders and international agencies.

“They are outstanding young people,” said Singer. “I’m sure that, on an intellectual, Jewish and pro-Zionist level, they are at least as good as the leadership of the people who went before.”

On external threats, Singer said it is too soon to make a determination about long-range impacts of contemporary antisemitism. A new WJC study indicates an antisemitic comment is posted to social media every 82 seconds.

“It’s very bad,” he said. But, he added, it may be less a matter of growing antisemitism than attitudes that were already there merely finding expression.

The situation in Europe is concerning, he said. Antisemitic and neo-Nazi parties are seeing unprecedented public support in France, Germany, Hungary and Greece. “This is a real danger,” Singer said.

On the impacts of U.S. President Donald Trump’s policies, Singer said it is too soon to judge. He is impressed, however, that Trump’s appointee as U.S. ambassador to the United Nations, Nikki Haley, has adopted a very different approach from her recent predecessors.

While the United Nations General Assembly is a wasteland at present, Singer said, Canada and the United States should remain active there, “because there is a stage there and you can have some influence.”

Of the new Canadian government, Singer said he is pleased that relations between Israel and Canada remain close and that this is something that transcends politics.

A healthy relationship

An interesting exchange occurred last week between four members of Israel’s Knesset and a Diaspora Jew who warned them that Israel risks losing the support of people like her.

In a forum in Boston, an audience member said Israel had responded disproportionately during the 2014 Operation Protective Edge.

“You are losing me and you are losing many, many, many people in the Jewish community,” the audience member warned. “I want to know what you are doing to make peace with the Palestinians.”

Amir Ohana, a Likud MK, made clear where he stood. “War is horrible. I lost friends, I lost family,” but the audience member was ignoring the thousands of rockets sent from Gaza to Israel, he said. “Each and every one of them [was] targeted to kill us. And if I will have to choose between losing more lives of Israelis, whether they are civilians or soldiers, or losing you, I will sadly, sorrily, rather lose you.”

Rachel Azaria, an MK belonging to the Kulanu party, was similarly critical of the American’s approach. “One of the challenges is that when you’re thousands of miles away, it looks simple,” she said. “To think that we enjoy living in terror and living with our rifles, we hate it. We all hate it. But we can’t seem to find a solution that will keep us strong and sheltered.… If it would be easy, we would be there … I wish reality would be easier, God knows I wish, unfortunately it’s not. And that’s something we need to live with every day of our lives in Israel.”

So, who is right? The alienated Diaspora Jew, or the members of Israel’s parliament? Unsatisfyingly, but perhaps appropriate Jewishly, they all are.

Israel has to make decisions based on the security of Israel, not on the emotional well-being or political ease of Diaspora Jews. Likewise, Jews everywhere have an obligation to stand up when they perceive injustice.

These two positions may seem antithetical, but they are not necessarily. Israelis and Diaspora Jews have always had a deep connection. Both in the state of Israel and in the Diaspora, political ideologies span the gamut. But particular issues and events, like the 2014 war, can exacerbate conflicts in the relationship. Ultimately, though, if we consider Israel and the Diaspora not as two entities but as Klal Yisrael, these disagreements are part of a dynamic discourse that is not only unavoidable, but necessary.

Diaspora Jews frequently criticize Israel and sometimes Israelis act as though these voices are not welcome. Yet the Diaspora provides financial and political support to Israel and, more importantly, the Law of Return means that every Diaspora Jew is a potential citizen. This means something.

And, while Azaria is correct that sometimes things can look overly simple from a distance of tens of thousands of kilometres, it is conversely true that distance can give perspective. Israelis and Diaspora Jews should listen to one another, not reject alternative voices.

Still, as at least one MK noted, it is not the children of Diaspora Jews who are conscripted into the Israel Defence Forces. It must certainly confound some Israeli parents to hear their North American or European cousins complaining about this or that Israeli policy while their own children are on the frontlines of the latest conflagration with Hamas, or are patrolling dangerous neighbourhoods in the West Bank.

Just as politics in Israel is combative and engaging, so it is – and it should be – in the Diaspora. We do not need to agree on everything, but some syntheses should develop that allow for dialogue and progress.

While we fret about the state of Israel-Diaspora relations, though, we should perhaps be more concerned about a different development. We may be heading for a schism that makes our past differences pale.

A new generation of Jews coming up in the Diaspora is much more critical of Israel and tends to be more dovish than their parents or grandparents. There are exceptions, of course, but the young Jews who blockaded the AIPAC conference recently represented a growing cohort, not a diminishing one. Some of their critics say these young people have been taken in by the anti-Israel propaganda on campuses and lack the courage to stand up to it. This may be true in some cases but, by and large, this is a dismissive and insulting suggestion. The different perspectives of young Jews are a real phenomenon and something that leaders – in Israel and around the world – need to respect and respond to.

Above all, we should not fear dissenting voices, but welcome them as part of the Zionist discourse. It is heartening to remember that the degree of passion expressed on all sides of this debate is a symptom of intense engagement. Disinterest would be a far greater threat to Jewish and Israeli life.

Living Jewishly in isolation

It was a life-changing day for Sei Mang Khong Sai, a 35-year-old man from Sazal, India. Inside the mud and bamboo hut on stilts with him were community leaders, his family and guests. They chanted tribal prayers to the beat of a lap drummer.

In this village, hours away from any major city, they were preparing for the barhote, the bris. Sei Mang was about to enter the covenant. In an area of warfare, poverty and drug-running, he was seeking Judaism’s deeper connection to a peaceable life.

Before the ceremony was complete, however, he was to be given his Jewish name. The honor was spontaneously given to visiting stranger Bryan Schwartz, from Oakland, Calif. The first thing that came into Schwartz’s head was Menashe, and so Menashe it was.

A kippah was placed on Menashe’s head, the hut’s doors were thrown open and the assembled outside were informed of the new name, to cheers of “siman tov!” and “mazal tov!”

As the history is told, seven Jewish couples were shipwrecked off the Konkan coast in India, south of Bombay, some 2,000 years ago, the progenitors of today’s Bnei Israel of India’s Maharashtra province.

“It was a pretty astonishing moment for me that brought home both the commonality, the amount that we share even in the most diverse corners of the world, and also how different some Jewish lives are from the one that I have,” said Schwartz, a civil rights attorney.

Sei Mang’s story and many others – from Schwartz’s travels to 30 countries and more than 100 villages – are chronicled in Schwartz’s recent book, Scattered Among the Nations: Photographs and Stories of the World’s Most Isolated Jewish Communities, which he put together with Jay Saul and Sandy Carter.

Scattered Among the Nations is the culmination of a 15-year journey that began in 1999 when Schwartz was a law student and was planning a spring break trip to North Africa. He stumbled upon a listing for Jews in the index of his Lonely Planet guidebook, including historical descriptions of the island of Djerba in the Mediterranean off the coast of Tunisia. Jews there claim not only to have in their possession the oldest Torah, but a past extending directly to ancestors fleeing the destruction of the Second Temple. It is believed that some high priests – kohanim – found refuge on the island, bringing with them one of the gates of the Temple, which they later buried. Legend has it, a synagogue, which still stands today, was built overtop the burial site. Schwartz learned there were 15 synagogues on the island.

“I’m reading all of this and I’m just blown away that there is this place that is so fascinating, and a story that is so colorful and beautiful, and that I have never heard of it,” he told the Independent. “I decided there must be places like this all around the world that I could visit and, as a writer and photographer, capture some of it and share it with other Jewish people.”

Prior to embarking on this ambitious quest, he contacted some communities by fax and mail and connected with global Jewish outreach centre Kulanu, which has ties to Jews in far-off corners. He also researched the “lost” communities, reading Hillel Halkin’s book on the Bnei Menashe, Across the Sabbath River, and Tudor Parfitt’s The Lost Tribes of Israel and Journey to the Vanished City, about the Lemba tribe of southern Africa, who maintain Jewish practices and share kohanic DNA. He took special note of the 1999 documentary film by Simcha Jacobovici, Quest for the Lost Tribes of Israel.

“Some of these communities exist in places so geographically and culturally distant from other Jews that they must struggle daily to maintain the religion of their ancestors,” he said.

Scattered Among the Nations contains more than 500 color photographs. Over the course of two years, Schwartz’s articles and talks have gained attention globally in the media, learning institutions, houses of worship and Jewish museums.

“I wanted to show the full diversity of the Jewish world,” he said. In Sefwi Wiawso, Ghana, for example, Jews don’t know how they got there – perhaps an ancient Israelite exile or Ethiopian Jewish traders. But what’s certain is that the community of 200, who call themselves the House of Israel, is dedicated to living a Jewish life.

“They embrace Judaism with such love. They have this tiny Torah that somebody delivered to the community,” said Schwartz. “And then, to return home and to see in my synagogue the wall of Torahs in the ark … Torahs draped in silver and velvet, and realize how very fortunate we are to have the kind of resources that we have.”

An “extraordinary part of the journey,” said Schwartz, was showing up, not knowing a single soul, “and just by virtue of this Jewish faith that was shared, that I would be treated like a long lost cousin and brought in, and I could stay with a family for Shabbat or for a whole week or for several weeks, and nothing be asked of me at all, other than to join them.”

In fact, he said, even members of economically disadvantaged communities offered him the best room in the house in which to stay, three meals a day and touring.

In Ghana, for instance, he stayed in Joseph Arma’s house – one of the wealthier community members – where only one room had electricity. The home had an outhouse.

Arma’s nephew was staying with them, but Arma kept referring to him as his son. Confused, Schwartz asked for clarification. It was explained that the tradition is that people who have kinship with one another can be called son – and that its what this American visitor would soon be called, as well. “That’s how it is here in Africa,” he was told.

“This is how I was treated in a lot of communities, like I was the son of the community and as much a part of the family as anyone else,” he said.

Meanwhile, more than 100 people of the Shona Jewish community convene each Shabbat morning at their synagogue outside Rusape, Zimbabwe. It is there they sing original Afro-Jewish melodies, gospel-style, in Hebrew, Shona and English.

The Ebo Jews in Nigeria, on the other hand, consist of several thousand members.

In each locale, their practices are recognizably Jewish, though continued observance of said practices often requires outside assistance.

The Inca Jews in Peru, as they identify themselves, have struggled to maintain the traditions.

“They don’t have teachers, they don’t have clergy, they don’t have books and the resources to buy kosher foods that they want for holidays,” Schwartz said. They are by necessity vegetarian, he explained – not by choice, but due to the fact that kosher meat is unavailable.

This is one of the many reasons that it wasn’t enough for Schwartz to simply publish his book and hope that these communities would be able to continue practising Judaism despite their lack of resources. Instead, he has also launched Scattered Among the Nations, Inc., a nonprofit organization that is designed, among other things, to assist isolated Jewish communities in gaining the recognition and resources to meet their needs. The organization, for example, has helped the Inca Jews buy kosher meat for Pesach and the High Holidays.

A number of communities – including the Inca Jews – don’t have kosher Torahs and, at one point, the community in northeastern India had to use a toy Torah, the kind bar mitzvah kids are given, said Schwartz. After reading an article about this situation, septuagenarian Chicagoan Sam Pfeffer stepped up to the plate, offering to purchase a Torah. But it’s not as though the scroll could be mailed or couriered. To avoid the reams of red tape, the only route was to deliver it personally. And so it was that this community, for the first time in perhaps several hundred years, leined from a fresh, new Torah.

“Nothing in the world could have meant more to them,” said Schwartz. “In northeastern India, you know, there is just not enough hope. Economically there, life is a struggle and to get to Shabbat really is a salvation every week.”

Whole communities – including the Bnei Menashe and Inca Jews – have expressed a strong desire to make aliyah in order to live fuller Jewish lives. But they haven’t necessarily been met with the warmest of receptions.

“It felt to me like an injustice that this [Inca] community has been actively and deliberately practising Judaism for decades, and really struggle to gain attention from the outside Jewish world. They’re fighting to get the attention of the [rabbinical authorities], to practise and make aliyah,” said Schwartz. “That was a fight that felt like … social justice that I engage in my law practice as well. Some of what I have seen … has felt like discrimination to me, and I think it’s something we need to confront and address.”

After some of the first members of the Inca community made aliyah, an Israeli newspaper wrote editorials suggesting that these Peruvians were just the pawns of an Orthodox establishment trying to use them in the war against the Palestinians, recalled Schwartz. “Which, to me, is an incredibly … bigoted way to look at a group of people, to suggest they were sort of evil-minded, or did not have their own free will to exercise their own passionate conserving of Judaism.

“In fact, nothing could be farther from the truth. The community actually struggled for a long time to gain any recognition for their own very devoted Jewish practice … to the point where they were photocopying pages of the Chumash and sticking it to parchment, to make it a ‘Torah.’ It’s hard for most of us to imagine.”

The Bnei Menashe of Myanmar (Burma) and India only recently gained official recognition as a “lost tribe” from religious authorities.

“It was so fundamental to their identity that they were part of a lost tribe,” said Schwartz, puzzled at the inconsistencies. Why, he wondered, when so many Soviet Jews “were welcomed with open arms in Israel, despite so few devoted in their Jewish practice,” do Bnei Menashe, in contrast, “not have the same reception? I think that’s something that we need to continue to confront as a community.”

It seems that clashes with so-called mainstream Jewish life have become the rule, rather than the exception. In the 1980s and 1990s, for example, Jews in Mexico and Portugal emerged from centuries of isolation, “coming out” for the first time since the Spanish Inquisition, as Schwartz explained. “Now that they no longer are forced to hide their Jewish practice, that they’re not as isolated as they once were, while it is a blessing, it also causes challenges.”

Reconnecting to the Jewish world meant newfound (to them) rabbinical insight that often conflicted with their own traditions, he explained. Portuguese prayers would make way for Hebrew prayers; kashrut meant a whole other list of laws and strictures. The Jewish community in Portugal had been, for hundreds of years, developing secret (to us) Jewish practices, including a Shavuot they referred to as Ascension Wednesday, a gathering in the field to celebrate.

“It was a struggle in the community as to what extent to embrace modern Jewish practice, or to keep going with their … practices that they’ve had for centuries,” said Schwartz. “Suddenly, you’ve come face to face with the entire Jewish world and realized that the way you’re practising is not entirely consistent with the way the other communities are practising and you have to make decisions.”

Schwartz couldn’t help but be affected by the faith of these communities, in light of what would often be harsh circumstances.

“In visiting these communities,” he said, “I realized the struggle that some people have to get to survive every week, and how meaningful it is to really live the whole week, to arrive at Shabbat. It is just inspiring. It made me realize the gift that it is to be Jewish, and it makes me want to pray every day, and be grateful every day, in a way that I certainly wasn’t before.”

Dave Gordon is a Toronto-based freelance writer whose work has appeared in more than a hundred publications around the world. He is the managing editor of landmarkreport.com.

Talking about Israel as a family

Sixty-eight years ago, when Israel was born and became the state of the Jewish people, a family was created. As with any other family that has a complex history, there is love and arguing, support and fallings out in the Israel mishpacha. To make things trickier, Israel is what we would call a blended family, whose members come from wildly varying geopolitical, socio-cultural, ethnic, religious and linguistic backgrounds.

This variety makes for a richness you would be hard-pressed to find elsewhere – the intensity and vigor of which those visiting or missing Israel so often speak. However, the blended Israeli family is fraught with tensions brought about by both the baggage each member has and the difficult neighborhood in which they live. Because Israel is the only Jewish state in the world – our only “family home” – each discussion about it feels of utmost consequence, even to Israel’s extended family of Diaspora Jews, who feel strongly about their connection to that familial home and the relatives living in it.

Not long ago, the announcement that singer Achinoam Nini (Noa) had been invited to perform at our community’s Yom Ha’atzmaut celebration on May 11 set in motion a heated debate about where we draw our red lines when it comes to criticizing Israel. The Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver made a decision to welcome Noa despite the objections of individuals who disagree with the artist’s political views, and Ezra Shanken, JFGV’s chief executive officer, expressed his hope that our community would continue the Jewish tradition of welcoming diversity of opinion and embracing respectful debate. As we celebrate Israel’s 68th birthday, I think it would be worthwhile to take a look at how our blended family handles conflict and disagreements when they arise from within, and do a little cheshbon nefesh, soul searching, about how we each might be contributing both to the family’s well-being, as well as to internal friction and divisiveness.

With Israel, we so often focus on the external conflicts, sometimes at the expense of looking at what is happening in our own backyard, and this is something we cannot afford to do any longer. For our blended family to thrive and prosper, it is not enough anymore to stand united against enemies. The strength of a tight-knit family depends less on the extent to which its members agree on every issue, and more on how they communicate their disagreements and live with differing points of view under one roof. We all share a moral obligation to set an example for the children and youth in our community, and show them that the Israeli family of which they are a part is strong and confident enough to welcome and even encourage different opinions and points of view.

So, how do we have disagreements and important discussions without engaging in the kind of destructive behavior and accusations that tear at our familial fabric? Is it possible to have difficult conversations from a place of mutual respect, even when we don’t see eye to eye? I speak from experience when I say that, while not easy, it is, in fact, possible. I have friends from across the political, national and religious spectrums, and I cherish the ongoing, sometimes challenging, conversations I have with them about Israel. With those conversations in mind, I would like to offer a few points to consider and some basic strategies I have found helpful when discussing Israel.

We have something important in common. Whenever you engage in a discussion with a fellow member of the tribe who holds different opinions about Israel than you do, remember that you wouldn’t be having that difficult conversation if it weren’t for the fact that you both care enough about Israel to take the time and argue. If you are not sure this is the case, ask the person a simple question: Do you care about Israel? If they answer yes, then, as surprising as it may sound, you have some common ground – a starting point for a respectful exchange of ideas. It is not always comfortable to accept that someone who holds a political view we disagree with comes, as we do, from a place of caring about Israel. But that is a discomfort we should learn to lean into and work with if we want to help foster within our community the democratic value of free speech – the same value that sets Israel apart from other countries in the Middle East.

Respond rather than react. Yes, there is a difference between the two. When we react, we re-act specific lines, roles and dialogues, just as a well-rehearsed actor in a long-running play would do. Unsurprisingly, reaction-based discussions usually feel like rather irritating déjà vus. When we respond, we do so from a sense of responsibility (response-ability): we know that we are not merely actors with memorized lines, and that we have the freedom to improvise, to choose to keep an open mind in those conversations where our default mode is to be judgmental, get defensive or go on the offensive.

Next time someone says something about Israel that makes you want to yell at them, “You have no idea what you’re talking about!” or “How can you say something like that?!” ask instead “Can you tell me more about what you just said?” It won’t feel natural at first because improv moves us out of our comfort zone. Nevertheless, try it. Be curious. We all have a human need to be heard and we all know how unpleasant it feels when our words are ignored or dismissed. Really hearing someone out is a beautiful, positive way to practise what Rabbi Hillel believed to be the essence of the Torah: what is hateful to you, do not do unto your neighbor.

Respect the importance of our personal histories. So much of who we are, what and how we think and how we feel about any given issue is a result of our personal history. When and where we were born and raised, our family’s past, our religious background, the influential people and key experiences in our lives – all of these and more also contribute to how we relate to Israel. If we understand that each one of us has such a personal history that affects our worldviews and that these histories differ from person to person, we move a step closer to accepting that it is inevitable for a variety of opinions about Israel to exist within our community. Once we accept this truth, we can choose to find it in ourselves to treat with respect even those with whose opinions we disagree.

In Hebrew, the words kavod (respect), kibud (honoring/acknowledging) and koved (weight/difficulty) all stem from the same root. Truly respecting “the other” and acknowledging from where they come and their right to hold different opinions to ours can, indeed, feel difficult and burdensome at times. Yet, if we want to help create a strong community that honors the histories and diversity of all its members, we should view this effort to respect the other as a blessed weight that we choose to carry, like that of an unborn child.

If you are a regular reader of the Jewish Independent, it is safe to assume that you, too, care about Israel. As we celebrate Israel’s birthday this year, I invite you to envision the kind of legacy or family heirloom we want to leave for the next generations in our community. In my mind, I see a vibrant, warm, colorful, imperfect and unique patchwork quilt to which each of us can add a symbolic piece of ourselves as the dialogue about our beloved Israel continues to unfold. What is your vision? And what are you willing to do to make it a reality?

Pirkei Avot (Ethics of Our Fathers) teaches us that “it is not upon us to complete the work, but that neither are we free to desist from it.” Our work as fellow members of the extended and blended Israeli family is to do tikkun olam (repair of the world). And tikkun olam begins with us, at home and in our community. So, in our conversations about Israel, let us all commit to being a bit more curious and a little less judgmental. Let’s treat one another with kavod and remember that the strength of our family is directly proportionate to our ability to be kind to one another.

Yael Heffer is an educator who has been working with children and families in the Vancouver Jewish community for close to 10 years. She is currently completing her master’s in child and youth care, is involved in social emotional learning research and is training as a clinical counselor. She grew up in South America, Germany and Israel and is a strong advocate of nonviolent communication.

JNF inspires entrepreneur

Recent Blue Box packages have included artisanal jams from Bustan Confiture. Each month, the featured products change. (photo from Emily Berg)

There are many ways to support Israel and Israeli businesses. A new concept, Blue Box Israel, connects artisan Israelis with Israel supporters abroad.

Blue Box Israel is the brainchild of Emily Berg, 29. Born and raised in Toronto in a secular, Zionist Jewish household, Berg made aliyah in 2012. In her first three years in Israel, she worked in fundraising and as a strategic consultant for several different nongovernmental organizations. It was during Operation Protective Edge (Tzuk Eitan) in 2014 that she saw a need for Blue Box.

“My fiancé was called to reserve duty and was basically gone from the first until the 40th and final day,” Berg told the Independent. “It was a very quiet period. People were not going out much. And, it was the first time I was able to really reflect on my life, purpose and future here.”

photo - Emily Berg, founder and chief executive officer of Blue Box Israel — Emily Berg, founder and chief executive officer of Blue Box Israel. *(photo from Emily Berg)*

Berg received daily emails, calls and messages from friends and family abroad, asking how they could help.

“One day, my mother forwarded me an email she had received urging her to ‘buy Israeli products from the south,’” said Berg. “All of the links were either broken or led to Judaica sites that didn’t have the capacity to ship abroad.

“Having spent years here, I knew that there were dozens, if not hundreds, of great businesses in the south that could benefit from this type of transaction. I realized that Israel’s supporters want to buy products from Israel, but that there was not really any way to do so.”

With the Jewish National Fund’s blue and white tzedakah box etched into her mind since childhood, Berg saw it as a “portal to Israel.” In a similar vein, she wanted to give people around the world an opportunity to connect with small Israeli businesses and support them by buying their products.

“I decided to call it Blue Box, not in any way meant to be in competition with JNF; rather, to pay respect to this important artifact,” she said.

Fast forward a few months and the Blue Box concept developed into a subscription-based model, wherein customers pay a fixed price and receive a monthly package from Israel, with each focused on a different vendor.

“Blue Box is about giving Israel’s supporters a monthly taste of Israel, sending them high-quality, innovative and unique products, and giving them a chance to support a variety of hand-picked Israeli vendors,” said Berg.

Each box includes a postcard with the vendor’s story on it, written by Berg. “For me, Blue Box is first and foremost about supporting small business in Israel, but it’s also about sharing Israel’s treasures – its products and its people – with my customers.”

Berg is constantly searching for suppliers and personally visits the site of each business that she chooses to feature – whether it’s a farm, a studio or a home office. She enjoys seeing how and where the products are made, and speaking with the business owners and workers. These interactions help her get a sense of the business’ culture when writing the postcards.

“In the past, I have decided not to work with particular vendors, because I was not satisfied with the level of cleanliness or even the conditions of the workers,” said Berg. “Whether the business is run ethically is very important to me. I choose businesses with interesting stories behind them. I choose products that are well-made, suit the price point, and meet weight and customs requirements.”

The main thing for Berg is to send innovative, artisanal products (often organic or handmade) as opposed to just sending Bamba or random Judaica. And her focus is on products from Israeli-owned companies.

As the founder and chief executive officer of Blue Box, Berg has a wide network of support, most notably, a mentor via Keren-Shemesh, an organization that helps young entrepreneurs in their first two years of business.

“I also have a team of Israeli student interns from the Ruppin Academic Centre who help me with marketing, PR and social media,” said Berg. “Most people hear about the business, are so excited about it, and just want to help.”

There are many different companies that send gift baskets from Israel, mostly for the holidays, i.e. kosher items for Rosh Hashanah or Pesach. There are also a few subscription businesses in Israel that ship makeup samples or promotional items. Berg says that Blue Box is different because she features one handpicked vendor each month and includes not only a selection of their products but also their story.

“Israel is literally bursting at the seams with innovation, creativity, craft and talent,” she said. “Using fresh ingredients, high-quality materials and unique design methods, there are literally thousands of small businesses scattered throughout the country, tucked away in little-known moshavim or small studios.

“These businesses, of course, don’t necessarily have access to the global market, nor do they have the capacity to ship abroad. We work with small businesses, family businesses, kibbutzim, artists, designers, entrepreneurs, social businesses, NGOs and much more.”

Recent boxes have included items such as artisanal jams (from Bustan Confiture), honey (from Kibbutz Ein Herod), spices (from Derech HaTavlinim), organic soap and shampoo (from Arugot Habosem), hand-woven baskets (from Kuchinate, the African Refugee Women’s Collective), organic olive oil (from Rish Lakish) and organic dried fruits (from Kibbutz Neot Semadar).

The boxes are packaged at a space in southern Tel Aviv. They are shipped at the beginning of each month, and Canadian customers can expect them to arrive within 10 business days after shipping (around the middle of a month). During months with a Jewish or Israeli holiday, Berg takes special care to ensure the packages arrive on time.

Purchasing a one-time box will run you $50 (including taxes and shipping). If you choose to subscribe – and customers can cancel at anytime – the price drops. For a three-month plan, it’s $46/month, for a six-month plan, $40/month, and, for a 12-month plan, $36/month.

“We ship a different box each month,” said Berg, and “everyone receives the same box that month. So, for example, every January, a subscriber will receive organic desert-grown dates, raisins and fruit leather from Kibbutz Neot Semadar for Tu b’Shevat.

“I want Blue Box to become a household name and something that hundreds of thousands if not millions of subscribers look forward to each month. Eventually, I would like to create an online shuk [market] to sell and ship Israeli goods abroad.”

For more information, visit blueboxisrael.com or the blog at blueboxisrael.wordpress.com.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

A groundbreaking decision?

Anat Hoffman, leader of Women of the Wall, speaks with members of the media near the Western Wall on Jan. 31, reacting to the Israeli government’s passage of a new plan on egalitarian prayer rights at the Jewish holy site. (photo by Hadas Parush/Flash90 via jns.org)

The Israeli government’s passage of legislation that authorizes egalitarian prayer in a soon-to-be-created 9,700-square-foot, NIS 35 million ($8.85 million) section adjacent to the southern part of the Western Wall (Kotel) has been called groundbreaking, empowering, dramatic and unprecedented. The section could be ready in as soon as a few months or up to two years from now.

“This is a fair and creative solution,” said Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu after the 15-5 vote on the measure by his cabinet.

Rabbi Rick Jacobs, president of Union for Reform Judaism (URJ), said the decision would “connect world Jewry to the state of Israel.” Jerry Silverman, chief executive officer of Jewish Federations of North America (JFNA), called it a “major step forward.” Member of Knesset Merav Michaeli (Zionist Union) said the Kotel was “liberated” again; this time not by soldiers, but by women in Jewish prayer shawls.

Indeed, for 27 years, Women of the Wall pushed for women’s equality at the Kotel. Formal negotiations have been going on for almost three years. In a statement, the group said more than just an agreement has been achieved: “The vision of the new section of the Kotel is a physical and conceptual space open to all forms of Jewish prayer. Instead of splitting up the existing pie into ever more divided, smaller pieces, we are making the pie much larger.”

The new section, which will qualify for government funding, will be managed by a public council, governed by a committee headed by the chair of the Jewish Agency for Israel and comprised of representatives from the Reform and Masorti (Conservative Judaism in Israel) movements, JFNA and Women of the Wall. An administrator for the section will be appointed by the Prime Minister’s Office.

Beyond the blueprints, the ratified plan is a powerful statement about the overt impact that Diaspora Jewry and global Jewish leaders can have on Israeli decision-making.

North American Jews have traditionally served as a political lifeline for Israel, lobbying their governments on behalf of the Jewish state. Recent occurrences have shifted the relationship between the North American and Israeli Jewish communities into one of semi-equality, which includes North American Jewish leaders objectively discussing Israel’s policies rather than blindly supporting them.

Silverman called this shift evolutionary. Rabbi Gilad Kariv, executive director of the Israel Movement for Reform and Progressive Judaism, said the negotiations “prove the role that North American Jewry … can and should play in helping Israel make our country more inclusive.”

“Kudos to the unrelenting advocacy from the North American Jewish community in pushing for this,” said Rafi Rone, former vice-president of Jewish and Israel Initiatives at the Joseph and Harvey Meyerhoff Family Charitable Funds. “The dawning of a new day.”

In an interview with the Jerusalem Post, Jewish Agency chairman Natan Sharansky said that American and Israeli Jews are becoming increasingly interdependent. The U.S. needs Israel to help strengthen Jewish identity in a Diaspora community that is slowly shrinking from assimilation and intermarriage, he said. Israel, attacked daily by the international community, needs the solidarity of Jewish communities abroad, he explained.

“I am sure that the [Israeli] government must now take into account – should take into consideration – the position of world Jewry on the decisions it makes,” Hagay Elizur, senior director of Diaspora affairs for Israel’s Ministry of Public Diplomacy and Diaspora Affairs, told JNS.org.

Netanyahu might be feeling the pressure of unprecedented U.S.-Israel political tension. Last August’s Peace Index poll by the Israel Democracy Institute and Tel Aviv University showed that 48% of Israeli Jews worried that Netanyahu’s campaign against the Iran nuclear deal would damage U.S.-Israel relations.

Read more at jns.org.

For two of the many other points of view, read the articles by Rabbi Daniel Bouskila and Phyllis Chesler.