An architectural rendering of the proposed Jewish Legion Centennial Pavilion to be built in Windsor, N.S. (image from MacKay-Lyons Sweetapple Architects Ltd.)
David Ben-Gurion and Yitzhak Ben-Zvi will be among more than 1,000 men remembered when the 100th anniversary of the Jewish Legion is commemorated next year in Windsor, N.S.
These two prominent Jewish community leaders, who became the first prime minister and second president of the state of Israel, respectively, were part of the legion, which was approved by the British War Office as a Jewish military contingent for active duty during the First World War. Ben-Gurion and Ben-Zvi, as members of the training squad, earned 50 cents a day and slept in a bell tent on Nova Scotia earth.
David Ben-Gurion, taken in Windsor, N.S., in 1918. (photo from West Hants Historical Society)
Jewish recruits from across Canada and the United States assembled at the Imperial Recruits Depot, located at Windsor’s Fort Edward, in 1918. Fort Edward served as a basic training centre and point of departure for all North American recruits of the Jewish Legion. Once their training was complete, they went to England, where they joined other Jewish battalions for the last phases of the campaign against the Ottoman Turks. This Jewish fighting force, which included the 38th, 39th, 40th and 42nd battalions of the Royal Fusiliers, would become known as the Jewish Legion.
In a letter to Windsor’s mayor in 1966, Ben-Gurion wrote, “In Windsor, one of the great dreams of my life, to serve as a soldier in a Jewish unit to fight for the liberation of Israel, became a reality. I will never forget Windsor, where I received my first training as a soldier and where I became a corporal.”
The Jewish Legion Centennial Society, chaired by former Atlantic Jewish Council executive director Jon Goldberg and guided by Sara Beanlands, principal of Boreas Heritage Consulting Inc., is commemorating the centennial of the training of the Jewish Legion in Windsor. In conjunction with the town of Windsor, West Hants Historical Society and the Atlantic Jewish Council, events are planned for the town in May and September of 2018. As well, a distinct earthworks Centennial Pavilion will be built, with considerable private funding, near Fort Edward. Names of the more than 1,000 North American Jewish trainees will be listed on a Wall of Honour at the pavilion.
To donate to the Centennial Pavilion or for further information, contact Goldberg at [email protected] or 1-902-221-2174. For historical information or to include a name of a Jewish Legion soldier, contact Sara Beanlands at [email protected] or 1-902-483-7999.
(photo from Israel Antiquities Authority via Ashernet)
A 1,500-year-old mosaic floor, with a Greek inscription, was discovered this summer following groundwork for a communications cable infrastructure near the Damascus Gate in the Old City of Jerusalem. David Gellman, the director of the excavation on behalf of the Israel Authority, said, “The fact that the inscription survived is an archeological miracle…. We were about to close the excavation when, all of a sudden, a corner of the mosaic inscription peeked out between the pipes and cables. Amazingly, it had not been damaged.” Hebrew University in Jerusalem’s Dr. Leah Di Segni deciphered the inscription, which “commemorates the founding of the building by Constantine, the priest. The inscription names the emperor Flavius Justinian. It seems that the building was used as a hostel for pilgrims.”
Na’amat Pioneer Women, 1960. (photo from JWB fonds, JMABC L.12599)
If you know someone in this photo, please help the JI fill the gaps of its predecessor’s (the Jewish Western Bulletin’s) collection at the Jewish Museum and Archives of B.C. by contacting [email protected] or 604-257-5199. To find out who has been identified in the photos, visit jewishmuseum.ca/blog.
Artist Iza Radinsky at Zack Gallery. (photo by Olga Livshin)
Just over 500 years ago, in 1516, the Venetian Republic forcibly moved 700 Venetian Jews to an island, the abandoned site of a 14th-century foundry. In doing so, they created the first ghetto. The word ghetto means “foundry” in the old Venetian dialect.
Rachel Singel (photo from Rachel Singer)
The Venetian ghetto had two access bridges, both guarded at night, and boats also patrolled the canals. Despite the isolation and other restrictions, the republic was relatively tolerant. Inside the ghetto, Jews were free to practise their religion and traditions; they were not forced to convert, as was the case in Spain and many other places throughout Europe. The ghetto became known as a place of study and scholarship, and its population grew from 700 in 1516 to more than 6,000 a hundred years later. The area – which existed until 1797, when Napoleon conquered the republic and gave equality to all citizens – remains a centre of Jewish culture.
Many Jewish and Italian organizations in North America and Europe have commemorated the 500th anniversary of the Venetian ghetto in some way. Here in Vancouver, Zack Gallery, in conjunction with Il Museo at the Italian Cultural Centre, are presenting Stories from the Stones of Venice: The Art of Rachel Singel and Iza Radinsky. The exhibit was the brainchild of Singel, an artist, printmaker and assistant professor at the University of Louisville, in Kentucky.
“The year 2016 marked the 500th year since the establishment of the Jewish ghetto in Venice,” she said in an email interview with the Jewish Independent. “To honour the historical anniversary and the influence of this uniquely urban space, I worked onsite in Venice for two months to create a series of etchings illustrating the buildings, structures and streets of the ghetto.”
That was not Singel’s first visit to Venice. “I first went to Venice in 2012 for an artist residency,” she said. “I have had the opportunity to return to Venice every year since. My artworks have been increasingly influenced by Venice and its fragile state…. The last two years, I have also brought my students to the Scuola Internazionale di Grafica Venezia.”
“The Corner Synagogue” by Rachel Singel. (photo from Rachel Singer)
Singel has exhibited her 10 ghetto prints at the international school and at the Jewish community centre in Louisville.
“Each of the 10 images seeks to call attention to the Venetian ghetto’s importance, not only as an architectural complex within the confines of Venice, but also its worth internationally. Its structures are resonantly symbolic, representing the community’s resolute will to survive and prosper in what was an exceedingly hostile social environment.”
When Singel heard about the exhibition that was being planned at Il Museo – The Venetian Ghetto: A Virtual Reconstruction 1516-2017, which opened on July 25 – she looked into the possibility of engaging with their event. “I reached out to the Zack Gallery director, Linda Lando, about exhibiting my prints at the JCC,” Singel said.
Lando liked the idea of a Venice exhibition, but 10 small prints were not enough to fill the Zack, so Lando invited Radinsky, a local artist, to exhibit her paintings of Venice in the same show.
“Linda Lando saw five of my paintings of Venice before,” Radinsky said. “She asked me if I had more and if I would like to participate in a two-artist show together with Rachel Singel. I was happy to.”
Radinsky’s 14 large paintings and Singel’s prints form the Zack exhibit.
“I love Venice,” Radinsky said. “I first visited it in 2006, with my 86-year-old father. I was awed by the city. It was as beautiful as in the old masters’ paintings I admired as a child in the museums of Moscow and St. Petersburg, even better. Afterwards, every time I go to Europe, I visit Venice. It draws me. It’s quiet there, no cars. People walk and gondolas float on the canals. Nothing artificial, just earthy colours, red roofs, water and sky – and reflections in the canals.”
“Gondolier” by Iza Radinsky. (photo from Iza Radinsky)
In her paintings, gondolas and gondoliers look as intrinsic to the ancient city as the sunlight and shadows, the unique water streets and multiple bridges of Venice. The muted colours coalesce into one another, creating combinations that have no names. The sky and the water blend together, weaving one fantastic, living canvas.
“Venice is built on water,” Radinsky explained. “Because of the dampness, it’s hard to maintain the paint of the outside walls of the buildings. The paint often flakes off, and green mold grows close to the water. But gondolas – those look luxurious. Lots of gilt and bright colours, golden ornaments and lush fabrics and cushions for the passengers. Every gondola is an amazing piece of art. In the past, gondolas were part of the Venetian fleet. They could ram into an enemy ship, and their sharp iron bows could cut like knifes. Now, they are tourist attractions, and gondoliers are very friendly and knowledgeable. They wear special hats and traditional striped shirts. They have to study long and hard to learn manoeuvring in the narrow canals. They have to pass an exam and get a licence.”
The artist’s eyes glowed with enthusiasm as she talked about her beloved Venice. “I’ve been there four times already and I want to go again,” said Radinsky.
Stories from the Stones of Venice opened at Zack Gallery on July 27 and continues until Sept. 3.
Olga Livshinis a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].
Beth Israel Sisterhood panel, 1977. (photo from JWB fonds; JMABC L.09864)
If you know someone in this photo, please help the JI fill the gaps of its predecessor’s (the Jewish Western Bulletin’s) collection at the Jewish Museum and Archives of B.C. by contacting [email protected] or 604-257-5199. To find out who has been identified in the photos, visit jewishmuseum.ca/blog.
Beth Israel group reading, 1965. (photo from JWB fonds, JMABC L.09870)
If you know someone in this photo, please help the JI fill the gaps of its predecessor’s (the Jewish Western Bulletin’s) collection at the Jewish Museum and Archives of B.C. by contacting [email protected] or 604-257-5199. To find out who has been identified in the photos, visit jewishmuseum.ca/blog.
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.
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 Fieldsis an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
When people reflect on Israel’s transformation since the establishment of the state in 1948, they often focus on geographic, political, economic and social changes. Slightly less tumultuous, but no less dramatic, has been Israel’s culinary development. In a country where people like to eat, and to eat a lot, the past 69 years has witnessed an amazing transition in Israeli food habits.
In the first years of statehood, for example, salad fixings were hard to come by, largely due to Israel’s tzena, or austerity program (1949-1959). Yet, even well after the lifting of the tzena, a salad meant finely chopped tomatoes and cucumbers, maybe with some onion and parsley, with a little lemon juice and olive oil. And this remains a classic Israeli salad. However, the days of such limited ingredients have come and gone.
While certain fruits and vegetables are, of course, seasonal – when you see ample supplies of strawberries and artichokes, you know Pesach is on the way – there is no end to the variety now available. Israeli farmers seem to have mastered the ability to grow just about everything. And this is just the tip of the iceberg, as former chef David “Poli” Polivoda explained about the evolution of Israeli food and palates.
First, a bit about Polivoda’s professional background. He began cooking shortly after his army service. Back then, he lived on a kibbutz by the Dead Sea, where he was part of a soldiers’ group that settled in the area. After his discharge, he studied carpentry and animation, but discovered – to the chagrin of the animation studio director – that his true vocation was cooking. He began his career in the Kibbutz Ein Gedi kitchen and, afterward, in its guesthouse.
Since then, Polivoda has worked in Jerusalem corridor guesthouses, on Magic One cruise ships, at the Osem food conglomerate, at various elite Jerusalem hotels, including the King David, and has done chef stints in Europe and in the United States. He also has been a restaurant inspector and now gives culinary tours of Jerusalem’s Mahane Yehuda.
Chef David Polivoda’s sculpted fruit bowl. (photo from David Polivoda)
When he first started out, cooking as a profession was not highly regarded. Nowadays, there are countless cookbooks, culinary websites and workshops, televised cooking shows and chef competitions – his chosen profession has earned a “wow” rating. In Israel, Polivoda said there are several places to learn to be a professional chef and there are certificates and national (government) achievement-based licences, as well as more than one association of Israeli chefs.
When he was starting out, a typical meal in a nice hotel meant a steak dinner. Meat was, and still is, relatively expensive, and much of it is imported. Back then, there were few restaurants and the average Israeli’s financial situation did not permit dining out. At home, Israelis typically ate an evening meal of bread, salad, eggs, cheese and plain yogurt (pretty close to what people ate for breakfast).
Polivoda said kashrut limitations have resulted in a lot of creativity as far as food preparation is concerned. For example, Italian cooking has become very popular with Israelis, despite the prohibition against mixing milk and meat – in downtown Jerusalem alone there are at least six kosher Italian dairy restaurants. Israeli chefs have learned to successfully produce tasty meatless Italian dishes.
With respect to hotel meals, Polivoda said the meals are generally much larger than those most Israelis would eat at home. He said in a hotel restaurant, people eat at least a third more. In hotels, buffets are set up for breakfast, lunch and dinner and the focus is on a display of abundance, he explained. Salads were, and remain, an important part of the buffet, but, according to Polivoda, an economic reason lies behind the plentiful spread – a buffet means less wait staff is needed.
He explained that, while hotel management seeks a high level of prepared food, it wants to have it made as cheaply as possible. Thus, restaurants might lower their costs by using cheaper raw ingredients. Two examples of this are Israeli mock chopped liver made from eggplant, rather than from liver, and “Ben-Gurion rice” or ptitim, which are really tiny pieces of hard wheat, that is, pasta.
Still, Polivoda said it is the chef who makes the lasting impression on guests, not the eatery’s manager. And, he said, when people eat out today, they expect more than they did in the past.
Eating habits in Israel have changed for a variety of reasons.
First, Israel is economically better off overall. Many Israelis can afford to travel abroad and those who do come back want to re-experience the tastes they enjoyed during their travels.
As well, Israel now imports a wide range of food products, so people are exposed to more variety. Additionally, the Israeli food industry not only services the increasingly cosmopolitan local population, but has made major inroads in exporting agricultural products.
Finally, Polivoda noted that, on the one hand, Israelis are proud of their cultural background while, on the other hand, they try to turn everything into a business. One result is a broader diversity of choices, with more ethnic restaurants trying to cater to an increasingly diverse population.
However, it’s a tough industry, and Polivoda predicted that many restaurants would come and go, as there are people who go into the business without understanding how hard it is to stay afloat. Meals will become somewhat less plentiful, he said, also noting that there is much waste in the industry.
He presented two optimistic points: prices for dining out will decrease and, as the in-gathering of exiles continues, with newcomers wanting to enjoy something from their roots, ethnic food will continue to have a place in Israeli cuisine.
Deborah Rubin Fieldsis an Israel-based features writer. She is also the author of Take a Peek Inside: A Child’s Guide to Radiology Exams, published in English, Hebrew and Arabic.
BirthWrong participants in Calanques de Morgiou. (photo courtesy Jewdas)
Marseille, a lively port city sloping down toward the Mediterranean Sea, has a long, rich history of immigration and multiculturalism – including a Jewish presence dating back 1,000 years. Today, France’s second-largest city is home to about 80,000 Jews, or almost 10% of its population, with both newer and centuries-old Sephardi and Ashkenazi communities.
Recently, a group of 30 self-identifying Jews and allies from Europe, North America, South Africa and Israel gathered in Marseille for the second edition of BirthWrong, an initiative started by the London-based collective Jewdas to explore and celebrate Diaspora histories and cultures. (The inaugural BirthWrong took place in Seville, Spain, in 2015.) We spent four days exploring the city and surrounding nature, meeting with locals and partaking in Jewish life, and found plenty to do for visitors.
The city’s Old Port is the classic starting point, with a spacious plaza, boat-filled marina and daily cruises shuttling visitors along the Calanques, a 20-kilometre series of fjord-like inlets surrounded by steep limestone cliffs. With a compact city centre, Marseille is easy and enjoyable to explore on foot; there are also trams, buses and subways. As in Vancouver, there are beaches in the heart of the city (Plage des Catalans, west of the Old Port) and near the centre (Malmousque, Plage du Prophète, Plages du Prado and Pointe Rouge).
In a city of 40 synagogues, the oldest and grandest is aptly called the Grande Synagogue de Marseille. Opened in 1864, it’s a three-storey Sephardi synagogue (with a basement Ashkenazi chapel) that hosts Shabbat services on Saturdays, followed by Provençal-style kiddush including green olives, anchovies and pastis, which is a local anise-based liqueur. The small congregation is predominantly Algerian-French Jews, and the impressive sanctuary – with the men’s section on the ground floor and women on the second floor – has shining marble floors, chandeliers, Romanesque arches and jewel-toned stained-glass windows. To attend services, be prepared to bring ID and have your bag searched, and women are asked to wear a dress or skirt.
A plaque outside commemorates that, in 1943, Jews were deported from the synagogue to Nazi death camps. In Marseille, 23,000 Jews were deported – with French police aiding the Nazis – and about 1,800 were killed in camps.
Prewar Jewish history in Provence dates back to the first century, with a more documented presence starting in the sixth century. After the Inquisition, Sephardi communities arrived from nearby Spain and Portugal and, in the Middle Ages, when the Vatican controlled the Avignon-Carpentras area, the Juifs du Pape (Jews of the Pope) acted as its financiers. At the time, Jews were banned in most other parts of present-day France.
BirthWrong participants take part in Havdalah. (photo courtesy Jewdas)
Today, much of the Jewish community in Marseille came from Tunisia, Algeria and Morocco in the late 1950s and early 1960s, following the countries’ independence from France. The city is also home to large Italian, Armenian and North African communities (resulting in delicious cuisines to choose from).
A local guide, Lou Marin, gave us a custom walking tour of the city centre focused on 1939-1945, and has encyclopedic knowledge of Marseille’s history. He leads hours-long or multi-day walking tours with flexible rates. (Contact [email protected] or 33-486-954576 to inquire about a tour.)
Just outside the city, Calanques National Park offers more than 85-square kilometres of stunning coastal walks through pine forests, which were planted by the Romans, and ridges above the cliffs, with bushes of wild rosemary and thyme dotting the landscape. Our group did a four-hour hike with local guide Felix Altgeld (provenceapied.wordpress.com), who offers customized walks and has extensive knowledge of the local flora and geography.
Food-wise, Marseille is an affordable city within France, with ample fresh produce coming from sunny Provence and varied cuisines to relish, including North African kebab shops, Lebanese delis and 30 kosher eateries (including the pizza food truck L’imprévu). On Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday mornings, look out for the market in La Plaine plaza, a community institution with independent food stalls and other shopping. The neighbourhood, which holds an annual carnival and is filled with colourful street art, is fiercely resisting gentrification, and maintains an inspiring multicultural, multi-class spirit day and night.
We got the sense that many non-Jewish Marseillais are aware of Jewish history and culture. At the annual May Day rally, multiple locals (both Jewish and non-Jewish) approached our group to ask about our trip and the Yiddish songs we were singing. Both Marin and the local historian Alessi Dell’Umbria, who spoke to us about Marseille’s history, knew a lot about Marseille’s Jewish history and culture through both their work and their personal lives.
Given France’s culture of secularism – where religious identity isn’t generally part of public life – the local Jewish activists who hosted us found it refreshing and unusual to meet Jews who bring our religious identity to politics, wear Stars of David and kippot and are openly Jewish in public. We, in turn, were fascinated to visit a bustling but laid-back city with a rich left-wing history, near-constant sun and diverse communities carving out an inclusive collective identity.
Marseille is just over three hours from Paris by high-speed train (visit sncf.com/en).
Tamara Micneris a playwright and journalist from Vancouver who lives in London, England. Her work has appeared in the Globe and Mail, Wall Street Journal and London Review of Books.
Beth Israel Sisterhood luncheon, 1983. (photo from JWB fonds, JMABC L.09853)
If you know someone in this photo, please help the JI fill the gaps of its predecessor’s (the Jewish Western Bulletin’s) collection at the Jewish Museum and Archives of B.C. by contacting [email protected] or 604-257-5199. To find out who has been identified in the photos, visit jewishmuseum.ca/blog.
