Israel – Page 30

Push back against antisemitism

The last three weeks or so have been a trying time for the Jewish community both in and out of Israel.

An 11-day onslaught of terrorist missiles sent thousands to bomb shelters or to their building stairways while the Iron Dome took down 90% of the missiles from the sky. Some got past, however, and 11 Israelis, Jewish and not, died. The loss of innocent life – both Palestinian and Israeli – is heartbreaking.

In the Diaspora, we hoped that a tense political situation would not turn into something worse. When it did, we watched the videos of missiles launched, of buildings hit, of funerals held – and of a country protecting itself and its people.

We then braced for the public opinion backlash. While Israel defended itself from more than 4,000 missiles fired from civilian neighbourhoods into civilian neighbourhoods, we were told by news outlets and celebrities on talk shows and social media that Israel’s actions – in which it went to extreme lengths to target only terrorist assets – were unjust.

I believe that Israel has a right to defend itself. I believe that Israel has a place in the Middle East, and I see it increasingly accepted by its neighbours. I believe Israel has much to offer the world.

Zionist is not a dirty word. I am an unapologetic Zionist. I stand with Israel. I believe in our people’s history, collectivity, peoplehood and right to self-determination.

Grievances with government policy do not give licence to question Israel’s right to exist. I do not believe that anti-Israel equals pro-Palestinian; if it did, then those burning Israeli flags in the streets would be calling for peace, or for a two-state solution, not to “globalize the intifada.”

In Gaza, Hamas – a listed terrorist entity in Canada, the United Kingdom, the United States and the European Union – remains a barrier to peace. I believe Palestinians deserve better. I believe that Palestinians are entitled to equal rights and to self-determination. This is not at odds with my Zionism.

I believe that anti-Zionism, as defined by the International Legal Forum as “the prejudice against the Jewish movement for self-determination and the right of the Jewish people to a homeland in the state of Israel,” can itself be antisemitic and create a climate that allows antisemitism to fester.

Across the world, we are witnessing a horrific surge in antisemitism in connection with the conflict. In the United States, Jews have been chased down and beaten. In the United Kingdom, there were chants to “rape their [Jewish] daughters” and antisemitic incidents have risen almost 500%.

Canada is not immune. Recently, in Montreal, peaceful pro-Israel demonstrators were pelted with rocks. In May, Toronto experienced a 500% spike in antisemitic incidents compared to last year. Nazi symbols were spotted at anti-Israel demonstrations across the country, including in

aOttawa and London. In Vancouver, we saw a Jewish business owner being harassed and threatened, and an increase in hateful posters and graffiti. The recent spate of antisemitism has also spread online. There are numerous incidents of Jewish students bullied, businesses targeted, and many others harassed.

While my phone explodes with messages from family and friends asking how to respond to hateful social media posts and vicious videos and memes, it is easy to feel cornered. It is easy to assume that public opinion equals the right opinion, but a simple understanding of history reminds us that it does not.

We must speak out and push back against this rising tide of antisemitism.

We know that what starts with the Jews never ends with Jews. Combating antisemitism is not only about protecting Jews but also about protecting the very fabric of Canadian society. Thousands across Canada are joining the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA) in calling for the federal government to convene an emergency summit on antisemitism – a forum to discuss enhancements to community security, education for youth about Jewish history, suffering and triumphs, and a Canada-wide campaign for social media literacy. Join our call to action at fightit.ca.

Neither Israel nor its supporters are perfect. Nobody is. The disproportionate criticism toward the Jewish state is unwarranted. Israel must, and will, stand by its principles, which are – not coincidentally – those same principles that gave rise to Western societies. As long as it does, I will stand with Israel, and you should, too.

Judy Zelikovitz is vice-president, university and local partner services, Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA).

Israel during terror attacks

Between May 13 and May 21, Adina Horwich, who made aliyah from Montreal in 1975, kept a blog of what was happening recently in Israel during Operation Guardian of the Walls, or Shomer HaChomot. Below are excerpts from her blog, which can be read in its entirety, along with more recent entries about everyday life in Israel, at jewishpostandnews.ca.

May 13

I write from my humble apartment in Jerusalem’s East Talpiot (Armon Hanatziv) neighbourhood. We sure have had our share of troubles, some stabbings and terror attacks in recent years, which have resulted in a number of fatalities. Surrounding us are three not-exactly-friendly Arab villages: Jabel el Mukaber, Tzur Baher and Um Lissun. My place is a mere five minutes’ walk from them.

Late Monday afternoon, I heard a siren wailing. As that’s a regular occurrence around here, I didn’t pay it any mind. Police frequently patrol the area, so I wasn’t alarmed. After it persisted … I decided to sneak a quick peek at the TV. On the upper right corner of the screen, Home Front Command ran a list of cities, warning residents that they were at that very moment being fired upon. Jerusalem appeared.

My building, built in the ’70s, has no proper communal bomb shelter. From my experiences in 2014 with Tzuk Eitan (Operation Protective Edge), while my son was doing reserve duty in Gaza, I knew to calmly open my door and join other neighbours in the stairwell.

I spent the rest of the evening glued to the news of much of the rest of Israel being relentlessly bombarded, including Jaffa, where my daughter resides, and Acco (Acre), where my son-in-law works.

Next morning (Tuesday), I woke to more bad news of overnight shooting and the firing of hundreds of rockets, inflicting great panic, shock, fear, injuries, extensive emotional and material damage on hundreds of innocent civilians, old and young, Arabs and Jews alike.

This whole week I sit comfortably, in surreal, fantasyland silence, yet less than two hours away, my fellow Israelis are running in and out of bomb shelters. Some of the casualties didn’t make it in time, including a female elderly caregiver from India. The TV flashes, blares eyewitness accounts, some with bloodied bodies, of sleepless nights, ambulances unloading the injured, hospital staff describing the nature and seriousness of the victims’ conditions. Sombre announcements of victims’ names.

I want to hear and see everything. The endless analysis offered by a slew of commentators and reporters (including a married couple, parents of an infant), all of whom themselves are in the line of fire and haven’t slept in their own beds for days.

Minute-by-minute dramatic reports, progressively worse and horrific by the hour and day, are too much to process. Graphic images of the riots and vandalism that erupted in the so-called mixed cities, pogrom scenes of burned shuls and their desecrated contents, of the unraveling of the hard-won, good working relations (some even social) woven between the Arab and Jewish sectors are devastating. Invasive footage of shattered and scarred dwellings, peoples’ entire homes in disarray with their owners milling about, lost and disoriented.

The very least I can do is stay tuned and attuned to the plight of thousands around Israel, try to feel their fear, anxiety, pain. The rehabilitation they’ll need to undergo, the post-trauma symptoms that will surely ensue. The stamina and perseverance they’ll need to muster, to brace themselves for chasing the authorities to grant compensation, be it to assess their homes or to evaluate their mental or physical state…. It might take years to even have their claims heard, let alone see any money. Where will they live in the meantime, how do they replace their possessions, clothing, furniture, appliances? How will shopkeepers rebuild their businesses, earn their livings?

I hope they have strong support systems and get all the help they need. I wish them a hefty dose of resilience, of faith and confidence to overcome this tragedy.

May 16

In five hours, we’ll begin the Shavuot holiday…. Advance plans for a long weekend to join my daughter housesitting at a desirable Tel Aviv location were scrapped last Thursday. This daughter is scrounging around for a night or two’s lodging, making the rounds, as she can’t go back to the Jaffa apartment she moved into, just six weeks ago, just yet. I popped out to the local supermarket, in my car, now stripped bare of the Israeli flags that have adorned it since Holocaust Memorial Day…. I was advised to take them off, which I did, reluctantly.

On the car radio, I hear how residents of Ashkelon send their praise, cheer on, salute the Israeli Defence Forces and whoever else in the city is doing their utmost to protect them.

On TV, a reporter visits the maternity ward at Ashkelon’s Barzilai hospital, interviews a woman awaiting the birth of her baby. Will it be amidst rocket fire? The normally high level of anxiety at such a time, absolutely “skyrockets.”

Mass demonstrations against Israel are happening across the globe. Who are these people? Have they any intelligent, informed opinion about this crisis?…

May 20

Talk and more talk of a ceasefire. My foot, in a pig’s eye, fat chance!! So much for the 6 a.m. deadline. That’s been postponed until tomorrow, maybe…. Polls of Ashkelon, Ashdod, Sderot residents show that the majority want this to go on until it’s well and truly over…. Similar findings are reflected among the general Israeli public, who, for a change, have just finally begun to realize, once and for all, how it feels to be under siege, how people of the south have been feeling for 20 years.

The electric company’s workers decide not to enter Gaza to repair damaged or fallen electric lines until, unless the bodies of Shaul Oron and Hadar Goldin are returned….

Vital organs from the Jewish man killed in the Lod lynch are transplanted to four or five recipients; one’s an Arab. The Arab man who rescued a Jewish one being beaten by Arabs visits him in the hospital.

Families band together to cook. Armed with steaming, overflowing pots, they head out to makeshift bases to feed troops in the south. Singers, entertainers visit people huddled in bomb shelters. Morale is, as in hockey terms, “gathering speed.” Things are looking up, even as throughout the day rockets continue to pummel down [from every direction].

May 21

My sleep was disturbed by what sounded like gunfire, but was probably fireworks, set off by “celebrants” of the ceasefire they consider a victory…. How many rockets should be tolerated? It’s a given there will be more…. Hamas is not a sovereign nation, nor a nation at all, but a recognized terror organization that represents nothing and no one, but its own barbaric agenda. Yet, it has garnered so much support from “civilized,” “enlightened” countries, that shower Hamas with financial and moral resources. They’ve engaged us in this savage war on a civilian population for years. Nowhere else in the Western world would this ever be remotely tolerated….

Chazak v’amatz (Be strong and brave) Am Yisrael!

HIPPY fêtes trailblazer

Carol Slater (photo from mothersmattercentre.ca)

Carol Slater, a former vice-president of National Council of Jewish Women of Canada, was presented with the first-ever Trailblazers Award for helping bring to Canada an innovative Israeli-founded education program that empowers mothers of preschool children.

The award, presented by the Mothers Matter Centre, was part of a virtual event May 5. (See jewishindependent.ca/mothers-importance.)

Slater was one of a small group of people who brought the program Home Instruction for Parents of Preschool Youngsters (HIPPY) to Canada two decades ago. The initiative, which has taken off in countries worldwide, began out of the Britannia Community Centre and Britannia Community Secondary School, in East Vancouver. The national headquarters of the program remains in Vancouver, under the auspices of the Mothers Matter Centre. HIPPY Canada changed its name in 2017 to the Mothers Matter Centre to reflect the fact that they deliver a range of programs, although HIPPY remains the core of the organization.

Slater spoke with the Independent recently, along with Wazi Dlamini-Kapenda, a Vancouverite who was the first HIPPY director in Canada and remains head of the national program.

HIPPY was started in 1969 at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem by the late Dr. Avima Lombard.

“When the first wave of African immigrants came to Israel and spoke no Hebrew, [Lombard] realized the disconnect between the children and the parents,” Slater said. “The parents didn’t know what was expected of the children, or of the parents.”

Slater and Dlamini-Kapenda take pride in the relative simplicity of the HIPPY structure. A new program is developed when a community identifies HIPPY as a program that would be of benefit to mothers and children. The community then approaches the Mothers Matter Centre to help with starting it up. In other cases, MMC approaches the community to let them know about the program and support them in implementing it, providing seed funding to get it off the ground, said Dlamini-Kapenda. The community can start with a minimum of two to four home visitors, depending on the size of the community, then each visitor recruits 10 to 12 families. The home visitor drops in on each family every week for at least an hour during the school year, and teaches the mother the week’s activities using the HIPPY curriculum. The lessons are taught using role-play, in which the home visitor and the mother take turns being the teacher (mother) and the student (child), practising the lesson before the mother teaches the week’s lessons to their preschooler.

“The basis of this program is that all parents want the best for their children, all parents want their children to succeed and to enter school ready to learn,” said Dlamini-Kapenda. “The parents themselves can play a role in this in building capacity within the home. Instead of parents relying on sending their children to preschool, which some parents couldn’t afford, we could go into the home, which is actually important because the home is where success begins. We all know that.”

“One of the very critical things,” Slater said, “is giving the parent the confidence that she can go to [her child’s] school because what has very often happened in immigrant situations is that the mother may not speak the language very well and, if she doesn’t go to school, she doesn’t follow her child and if she doesn’t follow her child, her child can fall behind and she doesn’t know about it. One of the most important things is the empowerment of the parent to understand that she is the first teacher of her children. It’s a fantastic concept when you think of it. So simple.”

The program is offered free to mothers and all supplies are provided, although almost everything that the mother will need to do activities can be found in the home. The families targeted for the HIPPY program are those with low literacy or deemed “at risk.” Special emphasis is given to immigrant and refugee communities and Indigenous populations. HIPPY has separate streams for multicultural and Indigenous families, recognizing different approaches to learning. Home visitors will usually be recruited from within the linguistic communities they serve.

Slater’s award recognizes her work in getting HIPPY off the ground in 2001.

“Carol was very instrumental in getting the funding and knocking on doors and talking to every person in a position to be able to get us the first funding to run the first four or five years of the program here in Canada,” said Dlamini-Kapenda. “I don’t know, without Carol, how far we would have gone.”

Dr. Debbie Bell, founding director of Simon Fraser University’s community education program, was working on developing strategies to create access to education for low-literacy communities. Slater and Bell connected after Slater happened upon a brochure about the nascent program. Slater, who has lived in Israel, Vancouver and, now, Montreal, saw it as an ideal fit for National Council of Jewish Women.

Seizing the moment, Slater beat the bushes for financing. Bell was emphatic that they should not launch HIPPY without a budget for several years of programming because that would be unfair to participating families. Slater went to Ottawa and, with the help of several key figures, obtained funding from the federal health ministry to get HIPPY up and running.

She credits Dr. Hedy Fry, member of Parliament for Vancouver-Centre, as an early supporter.

“She was so excited about the program,” Slater recalled. “She met Debbie and myself and we used to meet in her office. She sat me at a desk, she gave me a list of all the cabinet ministers and their secretaries and their private phone numbers. I just sat there and I phoned.”

An assistant to Allan Rock, who was then minister of health, was equally supportive. Slater left the meeting with a commitment for $250,000, which jumpstarted HIPPY Canada.

Slater also credits late Vancouver philanthropist Jack Diamond and the Diamond Foundation for crucial support that got the program started. The Vancouver Foundation also committed to four years of funding, something they had never done before, said Dlamini-Kapenda, who was then hired as the first HIPPY coordinator in Canada.

At the awards ceremony earlier this month, Canada’s chief public health officer, Dr. Theresa Tam, and Dr. Cindy Blackstock, a Gitxsan activist for child welfare and a professor in McGill University’s School of Social Work, received the Because Mothers Matter Award for their noteworthy professional accomplishments while giving back to their community. Two HIPPY mothers with extraordinary stories, Nusrat Awan and Jessica Seegerts, were also honoured.

Making aging healthier

Shira Haas is the featured guest at the July 7 event organized by Canadian Associates of Ben-Gurion University of the Negev. (photo from CABGU)

Israeli actress Shira Haas, star of the popular Netflix series Shtisel and Unorthodox, has been busy in recent months. Not only is she preparing to take on the role of a young Golda Meir in the upcoming series Lioness, executive produced by Barbra Streisand, but she is also the featured guest at the Canadian national virtual gala in support of Ben-Gurion University of the Negev (BGU) on July 7.

An “Unorthodox” National Virtual Gala for Brain Research, organized by Canadian Associates of Ben-Gurion University (CABGU), BGU’s Canadian fundraising arm, will raise money for the Canada Fund to Advance Brain Research.

“We are thrilled to share this exciting announcement with our community,” said Mitchell Oelbaum, national president of CABGU.

“According to the World Health Organization, there are approximately 50 million active cases of dementia worldwide, with an estimated 10 million new cases being added each year. Ten million people battle Parkinson’s each year globally. And, according to the World Stroke

Organization, 13 million people suffer from stroke annually. We wanted to do our part to help improve the chances of finding a cure for these debilitating diseases.”

The numbers are large, and there are no signs of a slowdown. That is why the fund was established by CABGU, with the goal of supporting groundbreaking and cutting-edge research for neurodegenerative diseases at the university’s Zlotowski Centre for Neuroscience.

“We are getting closer to determining the causes of age-related neurodegenerative diseases,” explained Dr. Debra Toiber of the department of life sciences in the faculty of natural sciences at BGU. “It’s an exciting time to be a scientist and uncovering the mechanisms of aging.”

Toiber is one of 67 researchers at the Zlotowski Centre. Her lab recently discovered that the SIRT6 protein is critical for the prevention of neurodegeneration, which can lead to Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s diseases. Colleague Dr. Shelly Levy-Tzedek’s lab studies the impact of age and disease on the control of body movement and how best to employ robotics to facilitate a fast and efficient rehabilitation process. Meanwhile, Dr. Claude Brodski, also with the Zlotowski Centre for Neuroscience, is currently conducting a study, albeit in its early stages, that may offer a disease-modified drug target to address the impact of Parkinson’s. While these findings are encouraging, more research needs to be conducted.

“CABGU launched the Canada Fund to Advance Brain Research at BGU in April,” said CABGU chief executive officer Mark Mendelson. “Our team has been hard at work ever since, and there is a strong appetite for this subject matter here in Canada. The sad reality is that we all know someone, whether it is a relative, a friend or a neighbour, who is struggling with one of these devastating brain diseases.”

The national virtual gala is already more than 50% sold out. To learn how to become a sponsor or to purchase tickets, head to bengurion.ca.

$100K raised for Sheba

Dr. Joe Schwarcz, director of the Office for Science and Society, McGill University, presented on The Chemistry of Wine and Its Many Benefits, at Canadian Friends of Sheba’s virtual event on May 2. (screenshot)

Canadian Friends of Sheba hosted Sheba Under the Stars on May 2, raising close to $100,000 for Israel’s Sheba Medical Centre. More than 100 guests attended the virtual evening featuring live entertainment, wine tasting and presentations on lifestyle choices from leading world experts.

Guests received a complimentary gift bag of wine and chocolates, and were treated to numerous performances from host Stacey Kay, Juno Award-winning singer/rapper and finalist on America’s Got Talent. The hour-long show also featured live wine tasting with Michael Avery, winemaker at Galil Mountain Winery, in Israel, as well as a presentation on The chemistry of Wine and Its Many Benefits, by Dr. Joe Schwarcz, director of the Office for Science and Society at McGill University.

Prof. Yitshak Kreiss, director general, Sheba Medical Centre, opened the event by highlighting Sheba’s global fight against the coronavirus through its recent support of missions to India, northern Italy, Cyprus and Uruguay, and called on the guests to be “inspired by Sheba’s vision to transform into the city of health.”

Presentations from “Sheba’s stars” included Redefining the Field of Lifestyle Medicine by Dr. Rani Polak, founding director of Sheba’s Centre of Lifestyle Medicine, and from Prof. Michal Schnaider Beeri, director of Sheba’s Joseph Sagol Neuroscience Centre, who shared tips on how wellness and lifestyle affects the brain.

To watch the full recording of the show, visit youtube.com/watch?v=QE2TRvm3G4Q.

Accepting a lack of control

Over a year ago, I wrote an article for the CBC with suggestions for parents on how to stay sane while coping with kids during the pandemic. I did some research, thought about it, and set out some points to follow. Now, all these ideas sound, well, familiar, but it doesn’t hurt to repeat them. I mentioned things like making a routine, keeping up with learning and life skills, getting some alone time, exercise and going outside. I included efforts to have intentional fun, and practising gratitude. As I write this, much of Canada is experiencing the third wave. Manitoba, where I live, is now our country’s hot spot. It’s been a long haul for all of us.

I’ve been struggling with what is “new” when, frankly, much has stayed the same. Even as some of us have gotten vaccinated, we still need to stay home. Like everyone, I’ve gone through periods of feeling anxious, as those in charge waver on how best to keep people safe. Then, the most recent war in Israel and the Palestinian Territories erupted … and things seem even scarier.

It’s hard to admit that we have little control as individuals. We choose who to vote for, or to wear a mask, or to social distance. We cannot individually control global pandemics, violence, extremism or antisemitism. That lack of control can be very scary.

I often retreat into absorbing “flow activities” to keep myself well during such difficult times. Often, I’m cooking, sewing, knitting or spinning yarn. I’m reading or taking long walks with the dog and kids. We’re watching geese and goslings on the riverbanks and spotting woodpeckers and warblers. Taking time to see and make new things can be really good for our mental health, and it’s often positive and productive.

I also continue to study my page of Talmud, usually late at night. I recently read Tractate Yoma 35, which discusses, in part, what the high priest would wear in the Temple, as he does his most holy actions of the year, on Yom Kippur. Everything is spelled out in detail. This is done by the rabbis both to explain what used to happen in the Temple and what perhaps might happen again, if the Temple were rebuilt. Even the cost of the priest’s clothing, which must be paid for and owned by the public, is noted.

The high priest acts for the whole community and, at the same time, these rituals have to be performed by him alone, as an individual. It’s an example of where the entire community must support a leader but has no control over that leader’s actions.

In the midst of this careful recounting of how he is to fulfil his duties, it says in Yoma 35b: “Rav Huna bar Yehuda, and some say Rav Shmuel bar Yehuda, taught: after the public service concluded, a priest whose mother made him a priestly tunic may wear it and perform an individual service … provided he transfers it to the possession of the public.”

The rabbis’ discussion indicates that the tunic the high priest’s mother made him must be donated to the Temple after he wears it. If he is attached to it, this might be hard. Also, it might be worth more than what the high priest’s garb should cost. It’s something a dear one made him, and it could be both emotionally and monetarily valuable. Yet, his mom makes it freely, knowing it might only be worn at this one time, and then donated for wider Temple usage.

Bear in mind what this meant. A high priest’s mother wants only the best for her child and, yet, must submit to the whole community who depends on him. So, she procures the right fibre-linen. She might have to process it, or it might come ready for spinning. She spins enough for a garment on her spindle. (There were no spinning wheels or industrial textile factories back then!) She weaves the fabric, and sews it into the tunic according to the given specifications. Then, she gives all that work away simply for the chance to clothe her son for a short time in her own handiwork for his extremely important event, serving on Yom Kippur on behalf of the Jewish people. This lesson is an ancient one – and, yet, many of us have to learn it over and over.

There’s so much we cannot control. Many huge world events are beyond us. We learn to submit to the experience that we cannot bend to our will. In the meanwhile, though, we can do everything in our power for good, as we see it. We can offer our money, creations and time. We can behave properly and follow instructions … and wait.

Many of my activities feel the same way as that mother’s tunic, although I have no high priests at my house. I spend many hours on meals, making clothing, helping kids learn, exercise, etc. Then, I finish my tasks and give it away. This “disappearing” work makes a difference in the universe, but I’m no closer to controlling the entire pandemic, the unrest in Israel, or beyond.

This is one of the hardest lessons I’ve had as a parent and an adult. We must accept where we are because, in some cases, nothing we’re capable of will control the situation or effect change. However, in the meantime, we can be like that high priest’s mother. We can offer up our love, our handiwork, our peaceful efforts and knowledge. We can expect never to see it again, like that gorgeous linen tunic.

Learning to make things and give them away may be the most important gift. The activity itself is the part that calms me down in the face of so much uncertainty. Last night, I used some knit remnants and my sewing machine and made a lightweight sweater for a 9-year-old. This is an ancient Jewish process, but it’s also another brand new sweater. Tomorrow, he may wear it … in the mud puddles and the rain – and that’s OK, too.

Joanne Seiff has written regularly for CBC Manitoba and various Jewish publications. She is the author of three books, including From the Outside In: Jewish Post Columns 2015-2016, a collection of essays available for digital download or as a paperback from Amazon. Check her out on Instagram @yrnspinner or at joanneseiff.blogspot.com.

Love note across the divide

Eighteen years ago, when I lived in southern Israel, the region that is getting hammered by rockets as I write this, my boyfriend at the time – Muhammed – was a Bedouin Muslim, also living in the area. I went to visit my mother in Berkeley, Calif., for a month or so. During my visit, I was hanging out with a friend of mine, who had grown up a secular Jew, then married a religious Moroccan Muslim. She had been inspired by her husband’s religious devotion to explore her own religious tradition, starting to keep kosher, go to Orthodox synagogue, and so on.

She and I were driving through downtown Berkeley, when we got stopped at a red light. As it so happened, to the right of us was an anti-Israel demonstration and to the left of us was a pro-Israel demonstration. The crowds were shouting slogans, slogans that flew across the street, over our heads in the car, the two of us, Jewish women in relationships with Arab Muslim men. We turned to each other, held our gaze for a minute, then burst out laughing hysterically. When the light turned green, we took off, leaving the Arabs and Jews behind us, yelling at one another.

When we feel threatened, we can get into a defensive posture, Us-Them thinking, unproductive fact-flinging, conversations from the brain instead of from the heart. We can go around and around the same circle of thought and narrative, as, meanwhile, people’s lives are torn apart by trauma and tragedy. I believe that the path to peace is not through political conversations, but, rather, through emotionally intimate relationships with individuals – getting to know and care about them, listen to their stories, understand the complexities and nuances of their lives. So that there is no Us and Them, but rather, there is just Us, the human family.

Prior to my relationship with Muhammed, I was a very political person. I did not just attend rallies; I organized them. As an indigenous Middle Eastern Jew, the daughter of a refugee from Iraq, I certainly had a lot to yell about: I am a direct descendant of the people of ancient Israel, which was destroyed 2,600 years ago by the Babylonians, who took my ancestors as captives to Babylon – the land of today’s Iraq. My ancestors stayed on that land through the Arab-Muslim conquest of the region 1,300 years ago and up through the modern day, until shortly after the Farhud – the pro-Nazi wave of genocidal violence against Jews in Baghdad – following which, my family fled to Israel.

Despite the brutal violence, exile and traumatic uprooting my family endured, along with the material loss – all Jewish personal and communal property was confiscated and nationalized by the Iraqi government – and, despite the personal, intergenerational trauma that carried forward through the years, in Israel and the United States, my family story was invisible in public discourse about Arabs and Jews, in both the Arab and Jewish narratives. This was the case despite the fact that indigenous Middle Eastern Jews made up the majority of Israel’s Jewish population, and that there were 900,000 indigenous Middle Eastern Jewish refugees worldwide in the 20th century, with stories mirroring those of my family.

I spent 20 years of my young adult life devoted to getting these stories out there, with a mission of changing the way people think. I spoke at respected institutes, published in prestigious media, my work reaching the eyes and ears of tens of millions of people. Then, my thinking changed – not about the history or politics, which remained the same – but about what to do with the history and politics, how to interface with them.

Because Muhammed and I were together amid a volatile environment of Arab-Jewish enmity, we kept things apolitical in our relationship. Paradoxically, this led to what was perhaps the most political act of all: Arab-Jewish love, visible for others to witness. My neighbours went from cautioning me against dating Muhammed to asking if I was still with Muhammed, to asking how Muhammed was doing. They feared him at first, but then got to know him and care about him. Experiencing that transformation, in turn, made me realize that the simple things in life, the connection we feel in someone’s presence, can be more powerful and important than all the high-brow intellectual discourse in the world, the litany of things we may have to say, no matter how valid those things may be.

image - The author’s forthcoming album, Iraqis in Pajamas, includes songs in response to the violence in the Middle East — The author’s forthcoming album, Iraqis in Pajamas, includes songs in response to the violence in the Middle East.

In addition, after getting diagnosed with cancer and choosing to heal from it naturally, I radically shifted my values and priorities – with joy, peace and ease shooting up to the top of my list. As part of my transformation, I returned to my lost love of music and started writing songs that were deeply personal, from the heart, and, as far as I knew, entirely apolitical – leaving me surprised when, after a performance, a man told me not only that he loved my music but that it was very political. My music disarms people, he and others have told me, specifically because I have no agenda, no interest in persuading anyone of anything; rather, I am just sharing – my story, my life, my journey. The simplicity and space of it all allows people to open their hearts, listen and, ironically, after all those years trying to change people’s minds – transform the way people think.

I don’t know the solution to this conflict that has been raging on for decades, endangering the lives of my family and friends, Jews and Muslims alike. I do, however, know this: as individuals, we have the choice not to participate in divisive thinking, to instead use conflict as an opportunity to reach out to people across the divide and get to know one another, in the most basic human ways, whether playing basketball or playing music or going for a walk and enjoying the sunset. In our cynical world, putting love at the forefront of our consciousness may sound hokey or impractical. But, at the end of the day, I think it’s the only thing with the hope to effect change.

Loolwa Khazzoom (KHAZZOOM.com) is an Iraqi-American Jewish musician, writer and educator. Her work has been featured in top media, including the New York Times, the Washington Post and the Boston Globe. Her forthcoming album, Iraqis in Pajamas, with her band by the same name, includes songs in response to the violence in the Middle East.

הסכסוך במזרח התיכון הגיע גם לקנדה

המפגינים צועדים ברחוב רובסון מלווים בכוחות המשטרה שסגרה את הכבישים הסמוכים בדאון טאון ונקובר
(רוני רחמני)

הסכסוך הקשה במזרח התיכון בו מעורבת ישראל בימים אלה כולל ארגון הטרור החמאס, ישראלים יהודים וערבים בישראל ופלסטינים וכוחות הביטחון בשטחים – הגיע כצפוי גם לקנדה. הפגנות רבות משתתפים נערכו בימים האחרונים מצד תומכי הפלסטינים ומצד תומכי ישראל, בערים המרכזיות של קנדה. במרבית הפגנות נשמר השקט והסדר בצורה מכובדת, אך במספר אירועים בעיקר באלה שבטורונטו ומונטריאול, הותקפו אזרחים יהודים תומכי ישראל על ידי אזרחים מוסלמים שתומכים בצד הפלסטיני. המשטרה ביצעה כבר מספר מעצרים והיא מנהלת חקירה מואצת לעצור חשודים נוספים באלימות הקשה שהופנתה נגד אלו שתומכים בישראל.

בחלק מהפגנות התמיכה בפלסטינים החזיקו המפגינים כרזות עם דברי נאצה ושנאה מבישים נגד ישראל והיהודים בכלל, בהם: צלבי קרס, “ישראל פעלת נכון, היטלר יהיה גאה בך”, ישראל=נאצים”, “מוות לישראל”, “מה ההבדל בין ישראלי לנאצים” ועוד.

ההפגנה הגדולה ביותר התקיימה על ידי תומכי הפלסטינים בטורונטו ונכחו בה למעלה מחמשת אלפים משתתפים. באותה הפגנה נעצרו כבר על ידי המשטרה המקומית שלושה אזרחים מוסלמים, שתקפו קומץ של מפגינים יהודים שעמדו מולם, וכאמור מעצרים נוספים צפויים בימים הקרובים. המפגינים היהודים ספגו אבנים ובקבוקים, ואחד מהם אף הוכה במקלות, הוא נפגע בראשו ונזקק לטיפול רפואי דחוף. ואילו בהפגנה של תומכי ישראל במונטריאול נאלצה המשטרה המקומית להפעיל גז מדמיע לפזר בכוח אזרחים מוסלמים, שביקשו לפגוע באזרחים יהודים שהפגינו בעת שנערכה הפגנה בעד הפלסטינים.

ההפגנות של שני הצדדים בעד ונגד ישראל נערכו בין היתר בערים הבאות בקנדה: טורונטו, מונטריאול, ונקובר, קלגרי, אדמונטון, אוטווה, ויניפג, הליפקס וסנט ג’ונס.

המפגינים פונים מרחוב ג’ורג’יה לרחוב טרלו בדרכם למשרדים של הקונסוליה האמריקאית בדאון טאון ונקובר
*(רוני רחמני)*

אני עקבתי מקרוב אחרי הפגנה של תומכי הצד הפלסטיני שנערכה בוונקובר ביום שבת האחרון. כחמש מאות מפגינים בהם אזרחים מוסלמים, ילידי קנדה, אינדיאנים, תומכי המרקסיזם ואפילו קבוצה של ארגון שמאל יהודי קיצוני “הקול היהודי העצמאי” – השתתפו בה. תחילה התכנסו מאות מפגינים בכיכר שממול האולפנים של רשת השידור הציבורית הקנדית הסי.בי.סי, ברחוב המילטון בדאון טאון. לאחר סדרה של נאומים וקריאות נגד ישראל שנמשכה למעלה מחצי שעה, החלו המפגינים לצעוד באישור המשטרה כמובן, אל עבר הקונסוליה האמריקנית בעיר, שנמצאת ברחוב פנדר בדאון טאון. רחבות שלמים נסגרו על ידי השוטרים הרבים שנכחו במקום, והצועדים ללא התפרעויות עשו את המסלול מאולפני הסי.בי.סי, אל רחוב רובסון, משם לרחוב ג’ורג’יה ומשם המשיכו בהמוניהם עד לבניין בו שוכנת הקונסוליה האמריקנית.

בין סיסמאות הרבות של המפגינים בעד הפלסטינים, לאור פעולת צה”ל בעזה, שנאמרו בהפגנה או שהופיעו על שלטים בהם החזיקו הצועדים: “אין צדק אין שלום”, “לשחר את פלסטין”, “פלסטין תקום בין הנהר לים”, “הפסיקו את שפיכות הדם”, “הפסיקו את ההפצצות”, “הפלסטינים הם מפלסטין”, “יש לעצור את המלחמה”, “יש להציל את שייח’ ג’ראח'”, “רציחת ילדים איננה נחשבת להגנה עצמית”, “הגידו במפורש את השם פלסטין”, “שתיקה היא אלימות”, “יש לחקור את פשעי המלחמה שמבצעת ישראל”, “יש לתת הגדרה עצמית לפלסטינים”, “יש להחרים את ישראל”. על הדלת הכניסה לקונסוליה האמריקנית שהייתה סגורה בעת ההפגנה, נכתבה הסיסמה באדום: “יש לשחרר את פלסטין, יש להפסיק את רצח העם וכן יש להפסיק את הכיבוש”.

בתגובה לתקיפת המפגינים היהודים בטורונטו, ציינו בארגון המרכז לענייני ישראל והיהודים בקנדה: “אנו מגנים בחריפות את ההתקפה והשנאה שהופנתה נגד יהודים. אין הצדקה לאלימות פוליטית ואלה ששונאים את ישראל שונאים גם את קנדה”.

Tragedy and cruelty

Reports from eyewitnesses to the catastrophe at Mount Meron last week, on Lag b’Omer, recount a horrifying crush of humanity propelled as if by an external force. The tragedy of 45 lives lost and scores of seriously injured will be investigated by authorities after allegations that the potential for such a disaster had been foretold.

The investigation into Israel’s worst civilian disaster will likely look at structural factors that led to the stampede and the inability of attendees to escape as the throng converged into a choke point at the site.

A small silver lining in the horrific incident was the mobilization of Arab Israelis in villages near the mountain, who set up help stations to provide water and food to attendees as they gathered in the aftermath.

But the tragedy itself was exacerbated when some among the survivors turned on female Israel Defence Forces soldiers arriving to help. The event was attended almost exclusively by religious men and boys. When female soldiers arrived to deliver first aid and evacuation assistance, some were spit on, kicked and punched as they attempted to help the wounded and remove the bodies of the deceased.

Such misogynistic extremism will probably not be within the parameters of a government inquiry. And perhaps that is fine, because this is a symptom of a much larger societal problem and one that should be confronted thoroughly by the entire country. Interfering in the life-saving work of first responders is not only reprehensible, it is an abrogation of a foremost tenet of Judaism, pikuach nefesh, the saving of life. Most of the victims and survivors are shomer negiah, adhering to a religious principle that restricts or forbids contact between members of the opposite sex. In a deeply distorted interpretation, a number of men in the situation chose to elevate shomer negiah above pikuach nefesh. By spitting on rescue workers, the perpetrators were spitting on the very sacredness they imagined themselves to be defending. That is something that deserves serious consideration by religious people and by secular authorities as the country – and Jews worldwide – grapple with the aftermath of the entire incident.

Another tragic byproduct of the disaster has been reactions to the news among people who gravely lack humanity. Within hours of being posted, a story on Al Jazeera’s website about the tragedy was met with more than 10,000 comments celebrating the deaths. Among the representative comments: “Drinks on me, y’all,” “about time we got some good news on our media,” “I feel so happy, actually” and “May God ensure the bodies pile high.”

It is difficult to fathom that we live in a world where people would respond to a mass casualty event in this manner. It is also nearly impossible to imagine such a response if the tragedy had happened to anyone other than Jews.

For years, a robust discussion has occurred around whether, if or when anti-Zionism crosses a line into antisemitism. Did the callous, sadistic comments reflect a political statement about the right of Israel to exist? Were they even more base, a celebration of dead Jews just because they were Jews? Was it anti-Zionism that drove these depraved commenters, or was it antisemitism?

These questions throw a spotlight on the fundamental foolishness of the dichotomy. A semantic discussion about the motivations of people who would behave in this way gives far too much credence to their actions, as if there could, in some convoluted moral universe, be a justification for their cruelty.

Was it anti-Zionism? Was it antisemitism? At this point, does it really matter what we call it?

The road of reckoning

A supply convoy entering Jerusalem, 1948. (image from Shaar Hagai Heritage Museum)

Having just marked Yom Hazikaron and Israel’s 73rd anniversary, it is an appropriate time to recall a piece of Israel’s foundational history, and a new museum that commemorates it.

Seventy-four years ago, the road to Jerusalem was a site of easy ambush. Probably no part of the road was more treacherous than the area around Shaar Hagai. This spot, called Bab el Wad in Arabic, translates into English as the Gate of the Valley. As far back as 1868, French explorer Victor Guerin recognized and commented on this weak spot: he pointed out that the track was so narrow that “a determined band of men could stop an army in it with little difficulty.”

Admittedly, as you today drive on a smooth, paved, two-way, divided Jerusalem/Tel Aviv highway, it is hard to appreciate this reality. But, on Nov. 29, 1947 – the day after the vote on the United Nations Partition Plan, enabling the establishment of the Jewish state – Arab forces began blocking the route to Jerusalem. Not only were Jewish forces shot at, but, because the road curves, drivers couldn’t see where the road was blocked until they were trapped basically.

In David Dayan’s book Roadblock at Shaar Hagai: Creating a State (title translated from the Hebrew), Amos Kochavi recalled one such incident: “The time was approximately two in the afternoon. The long line entered the narrow and dangerous part. They could be anywhere…. We continued to climb … and there was a mighty explosion. The bomb under the road left a huge hole and the convoy stopped. Immediately, terrible shooting began…. We returned fire, but we couldn’t advance. Some of the drivers went into shock…. One driver with shell shock, screamed, ‘I can’t handle it anymore. I’m leaving.’ We yelled back: ‘Don’t move! You won’t come out alive!’ He didn’t hear, jumped from the car and was instantly killed.

“They tried to come down from the hills to get close to the cars, but our fire stopped them. They fire, we fire and the hours go by. No cars have air left in their tires. The number of injured grew. Shalom volunteered … he lay on the road, rolling – to avoid snipers – for a long hour … directing the drivers, one by one, until he had rescued all the cars…. An Australian captain ordered tanks that escorted us back to Gezer. The time was already two at night – 12 hours from when we entered Shaar Hagai.”

Jerusalem was under siege. Essential supplies could not reach the civilian and military population of the city. Jerusalem was dependent on supplies from the rest of the country, and was threatened with being totally cut off from the rest of the country. The only way to reach Jewish Jerusalem was to travel in convoy. (For more information, visit the National Library of Israel website, nli.org.il/en.)

photo - A codebook for sending messages in the time of the siege of Jerusalem, on display at Shaar Hagai Heritage Museum. (photo from Shaar Hagai — A codebook for sending messages in the time of the siege of Jerusalem, on display at Shaar Hagai Heritage Museum. (photo from Shaar Hagai Heritage Museum)

According to the late Sir Martin Gilbert, by the spring of 1948, “Fewer and fewer Jewish food convoys were able to get through to Jerusalem. Towards the end of March, a food convoy failed, for the first time, to get through at all. One food convoy that did get through in March had taken 10 days to do so. By the end of the first week of April, there was only enough flour in Jewish Jerusalem to last for 30 days. Meat, fish, milk and eggs were unobtainable, except in small quantities, for children. The shortage of vegetables was such that children were sent into the fields to collect a weed … known as halamith, it tasted somewhat like spinach, and could be made into soup.” (See Jerusalem in the 20th Century.)

There was also a severe shortage of water. Three days before the state of Israel officially came into existence, the Palestine Post reported that “Jerusalem was still without water yesterday. The two pipelines from Ras el Ein, which were blown up by Arabs between Latrun and Bal el Wad on Friday, have still to be repaired. Crews are scheduled to leave under army escort this morning to continue repair work and, barring further trouble, repairs may be completed today. Water may be pumped into Jerusalem within a few days, according to one municipal official.” So grim was Jerusalem’s situation that archival photos show residents standing in long lines waiting to get their water ration and others rummaging through garbage, in the hopes of finding scraps of food.

Palmach fighters and, even more remarkable, simple truck drivers decided to do whatever they could to keep Jerusalem from being blocked. One now quite senior man, who drove a truck full of live fish for the Sabbath, was interviewed. He recalled looking out his side mirrors to see water streaming from the sides of the vehicle. The truck had been shot in numerous spots. Somehow, he managed to get to Kiryat Anavim, a kibbutz in the Jerusalem Corridor. There, women plugged up the bullet holes with rags. Probably, many of us would have considered giving up at this point, but this driver continued the slow climb to Jerusalem.

The fighters were mostly young people. A significant number were under the age of 18 (today’s conscription age). They came from all backgrounds, religious and non-religious, and from all parts of the country; some were Holocaust survivors. As a number of the fighters had been assigned the task of digging gravesites at Kiryat Anavim, they probably realized they might not survive on the road to Jerusalem.

It was crucial to find a different route for the convoys. Palmach soldiers discovered a detour that went through a hidden valley south of the heavily fortified fortress at Latrun and joined a path descending from Jerusalem. Using heavy tractors, the Palmach slowly cleared a path for vehicles. A water pipeline was also installed along it. The lifeline to the Jews in Jerusalem was secured, providing vital water and other supplies, in the summer months of 1948.

At the point where the road was most unsafe, there is a 19th-century Turkish-built travelers’ khan or inn. On March 23, 2021, Israel’s last election day, a memorial museum was opened at this historic location. The Shaar Hagai Heritage Museum is dedicated to the men and women who prevented Jerusalem from being disconnected in the days leading up to and even following Israel’s independence.

The museum deals less with the chronology of the battles and more with the physical and emotional difficulties convoy members faced, such as confronting dilemmas like whether the trucks should carry guns or food to besieged Jerusalem. There are displays of items used by the convoys, such as codebooks, handguns and rifles. And there are interviews with people who took part in the convoy operations, and part of the exhibit is animated.

Once we are again allowed to travel, the museum is worth a visit on your next trip to Israel. Allow at least an hour-and-a-half for the whole tour, which is recommended for viewers 10 years of age and older. The new museum requires visitors to make advance online reservations, and there are admission fees.

For Hebrew speakers, there’s a preview of the museum at parks.org.il/new/chan.

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.