Israel – Page 55

Shalvi reaches the sky

Alice Shalvi, an Israeli professor and educator, has played a leading role in progressive Jewish education for girls and advancing the status of women in Israel. Her autobiography, Never a Native (Halban Publishers, 2018), reads almost as a personal diary. Otherwise, how could this 92-year-old recall the most minute details of her life?

The youngest of two children, Shalvi was born in Essen, Germany, to Benzion and Perl Margulies, religious Zionists who owned a wholesale linen and housewares business. In 1933, soon after Hitler’s rise to power in Germany, their home was searched, prompting her father’s move to London, England. The rest of the family followed in May 1934.

In London, Shalvi’s father and brother imported watches and jewelry. When the Blitz began, they temporarily moved to Aylesbury, 50 kilometres north of London.

In 1944, Shalvi studied English literature at Cambridge University. In 1946, she was sent to the Zionist Congress in Basel as a representative of British Jewish students and, in 1949, after completing a degree in social work at the London School of Economics, she immigrated to Israel, settling in Jerusalem. She became a faculty member in the English department of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and she earned her PhD there in 1962.

In May 1950, Shalvi met Moshe Shelkowitz (changed later to Shalvi), a recent immigrant from New York, whom she married in October of that year. They had six children between 1952 and 1967; Moshe Shalvi died in 2013.

The 25th issue of Nashim: A Journal of Jewish Women’s Studies and Gender Issues (fall 2003) was dedicated to Alice Shalvi, “who made the dream of a journal devoted to Jewish women’s and gender studies possible.” When the concept of Nashim was first presented to her, the special issue notes that Shalvi greeted it not only with enthusiasm but as an idea whose time had finally come – she and her friends, pioneers of second-wave Jewish feminism, had raised it long before. “Subsequently, as rector of the Schechter Institute (1997-2001), [Shalvi] added her voice to the approval process for the issue’s first publication. She has remained on Nashim’s editorial board ever since, contributing her wise and warm guidance on issues of editorial and academic policy and herself serving as consulting editor for our issue on Women, War and Peace.”

In an interview by Elana Maryules Sztokman for the Lookstein Centre at Bar-Ilan University some years ago – after Shalvi had been awarded the 2007 Israel Prize for life achievement – Shalvi commented: “I felt that, through the work we had done on behalf of women, an enormous change had occurred in the status of women, in the self-image of women, in the self-assurance of women and, most importantly – because that’s what the prize recognized – in the awareness of the importance and centrality of the subject of the status of women in society at large.”

Shalvi spoke about the Pelech School for Girls and the Israel Women’s Network. “The school has created a generation of young modern Orthodox women who are changing that entire social system within modern orthodoxy,” she said. “The other thing I’m proud of is the years at the network, which saw the largest number of legislative changes and reforms in women’s status because what I call the ‘alumnae’ of the network were so prominent in the Knesset.”

In her autobiography, Shalvi emphasizes “that it’s all about the home,” and acknowledges the impact her parents had on her. “What I saw at home,” she writes, “was an open attitude, observance but openness. My mother always used to set an extra place at the table on Shabbat in case my father brought home a stranger from synagogue, as was the custom in those days. And, in my family, I learned about tzedakah in the very best sense – always a readiness to help others, not only from my father, who did it on a both public and personal level, but also from my mother.

“The other thing I absorbed was Zionism. It was a strongly Zionist household, and my father was very active in the religious Zionist community. From very early on, I knew that I would come on aliyah one day. I didn’t know when, but it was definitely there in the future.”

When asked to convey one message to the next generation, Shalvi said, “Reach for the sky and don’t give up. Don’t ever give up. Even if you know you’ll never attain what you’re reaching for, persist. Keep at it. I like to quote Robert Browning’s ‘Andrea del Sarto’: ‘Aye, but a man’s reach must exceed his grasp / Or what’s a heaven for.’ Keep on striving because, even if you don’t attain that goal yourself, the chances are that, for the next generation, it will be easier.”

Sybil Kaplan is a journalist, lecturer, book reviewer and food writer in Jerusalem. She created and leads the weekly English-language Shuk Walks in Machane Yehuda, she has compiled and edited nine kosher cookbooks, and is the author of Witness to History: Ten Years as a Woman Journalist in Israel.

Supporting Israelis in need

Dr. William and Ruth Ross (photo from Canadian Associates of Ben-Gurion University)

Dr. William Hy Ross tears up talking about the motivation behind his philanthropic activities in Israel. Sitting behind a desk in his room at the medical clinic he runs, over which hangs a watercolour painting of the Mount of Olives, Ross said it is because of the grandparents he never met, both of whom died in the Holocaust. “If we had a state back then, that wouldn’t have happened,” he said. “I would have grandparents.”

Ross met with the Jewish Independent last week to talk about the projects the Ross Foundation has undertaken in Israel, projects aimed at lifting up the underprivileged on the fringes of society there. He was accompanied by Sagie Shein, senior program manager of the Jewish American Joint Distribution Committee (JDC). Shein has acted as philanthropic advisor to Ross, and was recently made the fund manager of the Ross Family Foundation, in which role, he told the JI, he identifies projects that will achieve the foundation’s goals in Israel, whether through JDC or otherwise.

Ross and Shein met after Rabbi Shmuel Birnham, formerly of Congregation Har El, introduced Ross to Prof. Jack Habib of the Myers-JDC-Brookdale Institute in Jerusalem. Shein has now been working with the Ross foundation for six years.

Ross is a surgeon and a clinical professor of ophthalmology at the University of British Columbia. In 2012, he established the Morris and Sarah Ross International Fellowship in Vitreo-Retinal Surgery, which funds the training of ophthalmologists from Israel, including, so far, 12 Israeli Jews, three Israeli Muslims and three Israeli Christians.

Also in 2012, he and his wife, Ruth, established the Ross Family Scholarship Program for Advanced Studies in the Helping Professions, which funds education for nurses and social workers serving in the underserved peripheral communities of Israel. Their contributions have gone to select students at Ben-Gurion University (BGU) and they have been recognized as founders of the university, in honour of their contributions. The Ross Foundation appears on the walls of BGU’s Marcus Campus in Be’er Sheva.

In 2016, the Ross Foundation

extended its activity to another initiative – the Project for the Advancement of Employment for Ethiopian Immigrants, which supports the education of engineers, web developers and others.

“Israel is a fantastic success story,” said Ross. “You hear about the start-up companies, etc., but there is a whole fringe society who doesn’t have any of those advantages.”

Ross spoke to the JI about the particular importance of supporting Ethiopian Jewish immigrants in Israel. “When they’re done serving in the army, they often end up in dead-end jobs,” he said. “We are providing living expenses for them in a way that is a game-changer, allowing them to get jobs as practical engineers and in other needed industries.”

Ross and Shein explained that, even when given support to pay for education, many underprivileged Israelis cannot afford to stop working and go to school full-time. The Ross Foundation’s initiatives give recipients a stipend that allows them to stop working and complete a course of education. The foundation is also supporting other communities facing challenges in the workplace, like Arabs and Charedim.

“JDC empowers all Israelis as a social innovation incubator, developing pioneering social services in conjunction with the Israeli government, local municipalities, nonprofits and other partners to lift the lives of Israel’s children at risk, elderly, unemployed, and people with disabilities,” Michael Geller, JDC’s director of media relations, told the Independent.

Operating since 1914, JDC has provided “more than $2 billion in social services and aid to date,” he said.

The JDC funds and organizes experimental programs in the hope that the government will see their success and launch similar efforts.

“We’re looking to pilot programs that can be adopted by the Israeli government,” Ross said.

“In 2020,” added Shein, “the foundation is expected to further expand its activities to additional programs based on the foundation vision.”

“Hy and Ruthie Ross really get Israel,” said David Berson, executive director of Canadian Associates of BGU for British Columbia and Alberta. “They speak the language of social impact and they lead by example. I am so impressed and moved by their understanding of the human equation for social change. Great training, proper guidance and supportive accompaniment can lead to gainful employment.

“As a social worker who trained and worked in Israel with some of her significant social challenges for two decades years, I know that Hy and Ruthie really understand the most critical needs of Israel. It is also an honour for me to be able to partner with JDC Israel, one of Israel’s most noteworthy agencies of real social mobility and empowerment for Israel’s most at-risk populations.”

Ross summed up the strong belief that drives his philanthropy in Israel simply: “I believe every Jew has an obligation to support Israel in some way.”

Matthew Gindin is a freelance journalist, writer and lecturer. He is Pacific correspondent for the CJN, writes regularly for the Forward, Tricycle and the Wisdom Daily, and has been published in Sojourners, Religion Dispatches and elsewhere. He can be found on Medium and Twitter.

History through Eva’s eyes

Gabriella Goliger’s Eva Salomon’s War is an intriguing novel. (photo by Ben Welland))

Award-winning Canadian author Gabriella Goliger has written Eva Salomon’s War (Bedazzled Ink Publishing, 2018), an intriguing novel set between the rise of the German Nazi state and the founding of the state of Israel – two complex historical phenomena whose aftershocks we are still experiencing. But, for Eva Salomon, those huge events are mainly engines moving her own story forward from timid German-Jewish adolescent to courageous Israeli young woman. The novel takes us through many intricacies of the competing historical strands that form the background of Eva’s life. Readers familiar with various bits and pieces of the history can connect the dots through her eyes.

Written as a first-person bildungsroman, the book opens as the Nazis close in on the Jews, who are wondering which of the many possible responses to embrace. Should they stay and resist? Stay, pray and keep their heads down? Should they emigrate, and, if so, where? Should they join the movement to build a Zionist workers’ state in Palestine? So many choices, so many unknowns, and so much peril attached to each decision.

Eva’s beloved older sister, Liesel, immigrates to a socialist kibbutz in the Galilee. Sixteen-year-old Eva and her embittered, widowed father migrate to Tel Aviv. We know what happens to the relatives who feel too old to make the trip.

The character of Eva is loosely based on Goliger’s own aunt. Letters between Eva and Liesel give us many illustrative details of Jewish life in Palestine in those years. In Breslau, they had enjoyed middle-class lives. In Palestine, they quickly have to learn working-class skills and they have to adapt to their shabby new realities among people with no time for pity or introspection.

Kibbutz life is physically harsh but relieved by the high level of ideological commitment between the comrades: “I sleep in a tent and the food is plain, but I never have to think about where my next meal is coming from. Everything is communal and allotted to me, down to my shoes and socks.” Eva flees the misery of life in her father’s tiny flat and finds a place to live with Malka, a Hungarian Jewish seamstress who helps her accommodate to her reduced circumstances.

Malka transforms Eva from a ragged miserable waif to a well-dressed young woman who can make her way in the vibrant, uncertain Jewish Palestinian world. Eva learns the meaning of “ein breirah” – no choice – a theme resonating not only throughout the novel but throughout the decades to the present day as one formative part of Israeli Jewish culture.

Eva finds work as an ozerit (cleaning lady) and starts putting together a life of sorts. She finds a music shop that affords her a bit of pleasure – “my refuge, my paradise” – phonograph records feeding her delight in classical music and her longing for romance. Fittingly, it is where she meets Constable Duncan Rees of His Majesty’s Palestine Police. Their romance encapsulates many conflicting layers of identity, culture, desire and belonging.

Throughout the novel, most of the characters are rent by doubts and competing loyalties. Only the fanatics of all stripes know certainty. The portrayal of Eva’s unbending Orthodox father, seemingly bereft of feeling for his wayward daughter, I found puzzling. We never see anything through his eyes, never understand his inner realities.

Eva is at war with her father, with all rigid religious and political belief systems, with her situation of loving the wrong person, and with her own competing claims of duty. Her personal war intersects with the fighting in Europe, the fighting between Arabs and Jews, the infighting between the various Zionist factions and, crucially, with the growing resistance to the British presence in Palestine.

Eva is a Jewish refugee. Duncan is charged with upholding British laws controlling Jewish immigrants. Despite the growing cultural-personal-political tensions, Eva enjoys their romance. She experiences pleasure and the delights of physical intimacy, which she keeps secret as much as possible. “The more he was my secret, the tighter, I felt, was our bond.” Their emotional intimacy is harder to sustain. One feels it can’t last and I wondered throughout how Goliger was going to handle it (no spoiler here).

The British White Paper on Palestine brings it all to a head. Tensions explode into violence all over the land, from many different directions, aimed at “traitors” to all the intersecting causes. For each faction, “we” are highly individuated and the others are an undifferentiated “they.” Eva, essentially an apolitical person, is helplessly caught up in the sectarian brutality.

One can’t help but read the novel through the prism of the tragic unfolding of events since 1948. Goliger vividly illustrates the human urgencies propelling Arabs and Jews in all directions, and the emotional realities behind all the ideologies.

Near the end, I was reminded of Anne Frank’s “In spite of everything, I still believe people are good at heart.” Eva reflects, “I believe a better world is dawning because … because ein breirah. I must.”

Deborah Yaffe lives in Victoria, where she formerly taught in the women’s studies department of the University of Victoria. An active secular Jewish feminist since reading Elana Dykewomon and Irena Klepfisz in the 1980s, she is grateful for the many Israeli individuals and organizations working against Jewish persecution of Arab Israelis and Palestinians.

Unique science fiction volume

Emanuel Lottem, left, and Sheldon Teitelbaum. (photo by Roni Sofer)

After four years of hard work, Sheldon Teitelbaum and Emanuel Lottem have completed the first instalment of Zion’s Fiction: A Treasure of Israeli Speculative Literature.

Today, Montreal-born Teitelbaum lives with his family in Los Angeles, but, before that, he lived in Israel for many years – starting with five years in the Israeli army, a period of service that included the 1982 Lebanon War.

“I lived to tell the tale and, when I came back, I received an offer from some local magazines and newspapers, including the Jewish Post & News [in Winnipeg], to write pieces for them, which I accepted, in addition to working on the night desk as a sub-editor,” Teitelbaum told the Independent.

Then, he was hired by the Weizmann Institute of Science as a writer, which he did for a couple of years before moving with his family to California. There, he began writing for the Los Angeles Times, as well as writing a number of articles for the New York Times, Wired, Entertainment Weekly and other publications, while also working at University of Southern California as a science writer.

About Zion’s Fiction, Teitelbaum said, “It is not a book of my stories. I have absolutely no apparent talent in writing stories. But, I have been involved in Israeli science fiction and have been reading it for 40 years. And, it occurred to me at a certain point that the local (Israeli) fiction had reached a level of confidence that merited the attention of the world. As a result, I called up my partner, Emanuel Lottem, who is Israel’s premier interpreter, translator actually, of science fiction … and, I Skyped him and said, ‘You know, I just want to lay down two words to you – Zion’s fiction.’ Apparently, his jaw dropped. It just says the whole story.”

Teitelbaum contacted science fiction grandmaster Robert Silverberg, who he has interviewed in the past, and pitched the idea. Silverberg was hooked and agreed to provide a foreword and to connect them with agent Eddie Schneider of JABberwocky Literary Agency in New York.

As it turned out, publishing houses were not interested and, if not for the last publishing house on their list, they would have had to wait even longer to see their idea in print.

Once they had a publishing house, next came the difficult task of determining what would go into the book.

“We actually had twice as many stories than we needed,” said Teitelbaum. “We decided to save them for the next volume. However, we had a book launching at the Israeli Science Fiction convention in September, and we met with the head of the Israeli Society for Fantasy and Science Fiction. In conjunction with them, we’d publish their newly released volume – a collection of the best of the best of the Geffen winners of the last 17 years.”

(The Geffen Awards are named after the late Amos Geffen, one of the first editors and translators of science fiction in Israel.)

“As you might know,” continued Teitelbaum, “translation is a hideously expensive engagement. And they were gracious enough to take on the initial translation with Emanuel, and I was ready to hunker down with the actual line editing.”

All 16 stories that were selected for the first volume of Zion’s Fiction have received positive reviews worldwide. They are very different from the kind of speculative fiction people read in the West, according to Teitelbaum.

For most Israelis, when it comes to science fiction, Teitelbaum said, “It’s a thing that’s extremely fragile – more fragile than you’d find anywhere else in the world … because, when Hezbollah bombs starts flying, everyone’s nose is to the ground … and there ain’t no room for the fantasy.

“Not to mention that Israel is situated at a crossroads fortress called Megiddo, which the Greeks gave the name Armageddon, which is a lodestone for apocalyptic worry and fretting all over the world … and especially in Israel, [where] nobody does a better job of trying to put off disaster by writing about it.”

The Israeli science fiction that is broadly popular is that which deals with near-future developments in society, with specific connections to what is going on politically.

In terms of readership, Teitelbaum feels Zion’s Fiction will appeal to academics, noting, “There are several Jewish studies programs in North America and Europe [interested]. As someone who volunteers at the local high school my kids went to, teaching science fiction as a course for senior English, I know that, if you want to get kids to read, this is one of the ways to do it.

“I also know that Introduction to Science Fiction in undergraduate classes has upwards of 600 people, and I’d hope this series would ultimately provide academics with a reason to fashion courses on the subject of the Israeli fantastique.”

Teitelbaum also thinks that Zion’s Fiction could serve as an excellent gift for anyone with a soft spot for Israel or an interest in Israeli writing, or for science fiction lovers wanting to explore a unique segment in the genre.

“Unlike American Jewish science fiction, which hits you over the head with issues of religion and intermarriage and, you know, all of the shtetl nonsense, Israeli science fiction is a lot more subtle,” said Teitelbaum. “It doesn’t deal with the Holocaust directly in most instances, although you can see that it’s an underlying theme.

“It takes place in the near future, rather than the far. It’s a little more realistic than you would find in American science fiction. It doesn’t concern itself with Jewish folklore from the old country. It wears its Israeliness easily. Its Israeli characters are identifiable as Israelis.”

Zion’s Fiction is widely available and has already been translated for sale in countries such as Japan, Korea and Russia, with interest expressed in Turkey and Germany. For more information, visit zionsfiction.com. To order the book, go to amazon.com.

Rebeca Kuropatwa is a Winnipeg freelance writer.

Moving but challenging book

There are many puzzling things about the book God is in the Crowd. It is published by a prominent Canadian publishing house (McClelland and Stewart) but was printed in the United States. It is written by an American-Israeli, Tal Keinan, who was the beneficiary of a first-class prep school education, Exeter, in New England, and was the recipient of an MBA from Harvard. His book is, in some ways, a hodgepodge of personal reminiscences of life in a broken family in America, encounters with various strands of American Judaism, and a passage to Israel, where he beat the odds and became a fighter pilot in the Israeli air force.

Keinan’s English prose style is exceptionally moving, literate and attractive. This is especially true in the section where he describes the rigours of his training and, later, in a discourse filled with self-reproach when he discovers that he has bombed the wrong target during an attack in Lebanon. The author’s thoughts on flying and his lyrical, almost poetical, style reminds this reviewer of French author Antoine de Saint Exupery’s book Night Flight, in which the rhapsody of flying is celebrated with fervour and a certain panache.

Among the many subjects that Keinan tackles in this strangely compelling personal journal is the current configuration of Israel’s population, which he sees as a tripartite collective composed of territorialists, theocrats and secularists. Although his predilection is for the third category, he has much to say about the religious origins of Israel and the Jewish people. In fact, he credits Rabbi Yehudah Hanassi with resuscitating Judaism after the destruction of the Great Temple of Jerusalem through his compilation of the Mishnah in the first century of the Common Era.

Because he finds the world Jewish community dangerously fragmented, and Israel unresponsive to smaller start-up enterprises, Keinan, who founded Koret, a fund for small businesses, and who is active in the Steinhardt Foundation (Birthright), proposes a very ambitious program to galvanize young Jews through, among other things, a vibrant Jewish summer camp experience, higher education in Jewish sources and a commitment to financial obligations to sustain these three essentials. His ideas are complex but he does provide extensive details to buttress his argument.

Those who look for logical and sequential ideas in this challenging book will be somewhat disappointed in its title, which claims that “God is in the crowd,” an idea the author promotes in ways that are not entirely clear despite the praise heaped on Keinan by six distinguished commentators whose views are on the back of the book jacket, as well as an endorsement on the front of the jacket by Lord Jonathan Sacks. This reviewer must have missed something in his reading of the chapters in which the author talks about “crowd wisdom.”

Based on an experiment to discern how many gum balls were displayed in a large glass container at one of his investment shows, Keinan suggests that the collective guesses were closer to the correct number than individual number choices and, from this observation, the author leaps into generalizations about how Jewish unity among Diaspora Jews was secured by “crowd wisdom,” no matter the geographical, religious or cultural disposition of the disparate communities. Keinan tends to annoy the reader by discoursing on this idea and then abruptly changing his agenda by addressing other concerns, and then returning to the “crowd wisdom” theme.

Despite the ambiguities in his discussion of “crowd wisdom,” Keinan has one section in this autobiographical memoir that merits high praise. During his service in the Israeli air force, the author developed a friendship and admiration for a fellow pilot – a secular kibbutznik who was a model for Keinan both in terms of aeronautics and moral compass. The friendship continued after their air force service and then, one day, years later, Keinan saw that his old buddy was wearing a kippah. Keinan writes with a heavy heart that the longtime friendship dwindled slowly and finally dissolved.

Arnold Ages is distinguished emeritus professor at the University of Waterloo in Ontario.

Keeping clean then and now

The mikvah at Herodian, which was apparently built during the Second Temple period (530 BCE and 70 CE). (photo by Deborah Rubin Fields)

The Dark Ages weren’t given their name for nothing. After the collapse of the Roman Empire, sanitation virtually disappeared. During the Dark Ages – also referred to as the Middle Ages or the medieval period – few people bathed regularly. What did they do? Those who could, or were so inclined, covered up body odour with perfume.

Progress does not always move in a forward direction – the older, classical civilizations bathed far more than did medieval Europe. In the non-Jewish ancient world, the earliest unearthed bathing and plumbing systems date back nearly 6,000 years to the Indus River Valley, in today’s Pakistan. There, archeologists excavated copper water pipes from the ruins of a palace, as well as the remains of what appears to be a superbly constructed ritual bathing pool at Mohenjo-daro. And, in a find dating 3,000 years later, archeologists found a pottery pedestal tub on the island of Crete that measured five feet long.

By instituting a practice of daily bathing, the Romans improved the general level of sanitation. Baths, moreover, functioned not just to raise the level of hygiene, but also provided opportunities to socialize, to exercise, to read and, importantly, to conduct business. From 500 BCE until 455 CE, Roman public baths were common. Moreover, privately owned Roman baths were quite luxurious, often taking up a whole room. The comprehensive sewage system of the baths consisted of lead and bronze pipes and marble fixtures.

Now, note this contrast: until the 1800s, most water pipes in the United States consisted of no more than hollowed-out trees, and the first cast-iron pipes in the United States were imported from England. Only in 1848 was a U.S. plumbing code enacted, with the passage of the National Public Health Act. In 1883, both the Standard Sanitary Manufacturing Co. (now the American Standard Co.) and the Kohler Co. began adding enamel to cast-iron bathtubs to create a smooth interior surface. Kohler advertised its first claw foot tub as a “horse trough/hog scalder [which] when furnished with four legs will serve as a bathtub.” Kohler began mass-producing these tubs, as they were recognized as having a surface that was easy to clean, thus preventing the spread of bacteria and disease.

To give additional perspective, consider this finding: after the First World War, the United States experienced a construction boom, and bathrooms were fitted with a toilet, sink and bathtub – but, even in 1921, only one percent of American homes had indoor plumbing.

Since antiquity, Jews have maintained a relatively high level of sanitation, due in part to the prescribed hand-washing ritual before eating and to the religious practice surrounding the mikvah, or ritual bath. In Israel, the oldest discovered mikvah dates back to the Second Temple period, more than 2,000 years ago. In recent years, archeologists discovered Europe’s oldest mikvah – in Sicily’s ancient Syracuse, it goes back to the Byzantine period, or the fifth-century CE.

But two important questions need answering: how do we know bathing was so important and what is a mikvah? The Babylonian Talmud, Tractate Berakhot 57b, provides this insight: though anointing (oil) and bath (water) do not enter the body, the body benefits from them. Moreover, in Tractate Sanhedrin 17b, we learn that scholars were forbidden from residing in cities that did not have public baths.

Historically, municipalities often barred Jews from bathing in their rivers, and Christians blocked Jews from using public baths. Moreover, there was a fear that Jewish women might be molested in a general public bath. So, there was a need to construct separate facilities, and Jews built bathhouses, many with mikvot close by. Thus, Jews began to link the concept of the mikvah with physical hygiene.

Significantly, the mikvah was never a monthly substitute for a bath or shower. In fact, Jewish law calls for immersion only after one has bathed or showered. Oceans, rivers, wells and lakes, which get their water from springs, can usually serve as a mikvah. The common thread between these bodies of water is that they are natural sources. To traditional Jews, they are derived from G-d. As such, they have the ability to ritually purify.

A human-made mikvah must be built into the ground or built as an essential part of a building. There are two pools: one that contains collected rainwater and the other, the actual immersion pool, is drained and refilled regularly with tap water. The pools, however, share a common wall with a hole that permits the free flow of the water, so the immersion pool also receives rainwater.

When the Temples stood, the high priest immersed in the mikvah at prescribed times. But, today, when there is no Temple, for the Orthodox, the mikvah serves the following four functions: a woman uses the mikvah after menstruating and after giving birth; immersion in a mikvah marks the final step in converting to Judaism; before beginning to cook and eat from them, Jews use the mikvah to immerse new pots, dishes and utensils; and the mikvah is also used to prepare a Jew’s body before his or her burial. Men go to the mikvah before their wedding and before Yom Kippur, and many Chassidic men use the mikvah before each Shabbat and holiday.

photo - Giovanni Boccaccio’s “The plague of Florence in 1348” — Giovanni Boccaccio’s “The plague of Florence in 1348.” *(photo from wellcomecollection.org)*

It is speculated that up to 60% of the general European population died of the Black Death. There are no statistics as to how many Jews died of the plague, so it is hard to actually say that Jewish bathhouses or the Jewish practice of hand washing or other sanitation prescribed by Jewish law kept Jews safer than the general medieval public. Two points, however, may be stated with certainty:

In a number of instances, European Jews were blamed for the Black Death. As a consequence, beginning in November 1348 in Germany, Jews were massacred and expelled from their homes. In February 1349, 2,000 Strasbourg Jews were murdered. Six months later, Christians wiped out the Jews of Mainz and Cologne. By 1351, 60 major and 150 smaller Jewish communities had been eliminated.
Even today, comments on the subject need to be scrutinized for possible antisemitic motives.

As for today, in the Western world, there seems to be an obsessive amount of soap bars, soap liquids, no-soap cleaners, hand wipes and wet wipes. Can one over-clean? Yes.

In an interview with Global News earlier this year, Dr. Anatoli Freiman of the Toronto Dermatology Centre explained the negative consequences of excessive showering or bathing. “The skin can dry out,” he said. “But the message is, after the shower or bath, you need to pat yourself dry and moisturize to seal it.”

Prof. David Leffell, chief of dermatological surgery at Yale School of Medicine, gives these guidelines about keeping clean. “You don’t want to do the Lady Macbeth thing, where you’re scrubbing and scrubbing,” he told businessinsider.com. “The purpose of showering is to eliminate dirt.” This can be done, he explained, in less than a few minutes by focusing on the grimier parts of the body (armpits and groin) and not overdoing it with soap elsewhere. He advised using warm, not hot, water; aiming for a three-minute shower; and moisturizing while the skin is still damp.

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.

Israel-Diaspora divide

Mattathias and the Apostate (1 Maccabees 2:1-25) in Gustave Doré’s English Bible 1866. The time has not yet come when we no longer need the warrior Maccabee. (photo from Wikimedia Commons)

Before the rebirth of the modern state of Israel and the unprecedented success of Jews in North America, Jews had very little to celebrate. After our triumphant Exodus from Egypt, it was more or less downhill and, in the competition between monotheistic faiths, we were always on the losing side. The God who chose us, to quote Woody Allen, was a consistent “underachiever,” at least when it came to looking after our interests.

One of the few exceptions in this tragic tale was Chanukah. For a moment, we won. Who we defeated and what we achieved are debated though. Were the Maccabees fighting a foreign, occupying force that wanted to deny the Jewish people their freedom and liberty, or was the war essentially a battle against Hellenization and assimilation? Was the miracle the military victory or a spiritual one? Before the 20th century, it didn’t really matter. We had won at something. Dayenu. The light of Chanukah illuminated the darkness that engulfed much of Jewish history, and gave hope that, one day, we would again prevail.

That hope came true in the 20th century, and both Israel and North American Judaism embraced Chanukah as the paradigm for their success. Each, however, tells a very different Chanukah tale and sees itself as combating a very different darkness.

Now, differences alone are not a problem, as long as they complement each other. In the case of Chanukah, however, these differences express a deep schism between Israel and North American Jewry. It is not hyperbolic to argue that, unless we learn how to share a Chanukah story, our shared enterprise and common identity are at risk.

In Israel, Chanukah is primarily a story of our military victory over an oppressive enemy that sought to destroy us. Zionists who wanted to re-form the Jewish psyche and heal it from its diasporic defeatism and powerlessness saw the foundation for the new Jew in the Maccabees of old – a Jew who was brave, a Jew who was willing to bear arms and, most significantly, a Jew who was victorious.

The Maccabean victory of the few over the many continues to serve as a dominant theme in Israeli discourse. In our experience, we continue to encounter forces of darkness who seek to destroy us. We are the light that they yearn to extinguish and, as we celebrate Chanukah, we recommit ourselves to the heroism and sacrifice that our survival requires and demands. If, in the past, our tradition commanded every Jew to see themselves as coming out of Egypt, in modern Israeli society, the demand is that every Jew commits himself or herself to being a modern Maccabee.

In North America, a very different Chanukah story is told. As paragons of religious tolerance, the United States and Canada have created an unprecedented environment for Jews to live and thrive as a powerful and beloved minority. There is no war of survival. Consequently, North American Jews have little personal use for the warrior Maccabee.

Through the North American lens, Chanukah celebrates the constitutional rights of all to religious freedom and to the fostering of religious tolerance. The war of the Maccabees was a battle against religious oppression, and the Maccabees were liberal warriors against the darkness of religious oppression and fundamentalism. Through the chanukiyah, which stands proudly side-by-side with the Christmas tree, Jews pledge to lead the fight to preserve the religious freedoms of liberal democratic life. The Chanukah light is the torch leading their way.

The beauty of religious symbols is that they have no inherent meaning, and the history on which they stand is but raw material to be molded by each generation and community in search of meaning and relevance. People in different times and circumstances will inevitably develop diverse understandings. The problem arises when these differences become expressions of value systems that are positioned as mutually exclusive.

A community is a collection of individuals who do not merely share common symbols. A strong and vibrant worldwide Jewish community is only possible if we share as well a set of common values. For North American and Israeli Jews to walk hand-in-hand, we cannot be alienated from each other’s values, but, quite to the contrary, we must respect and seek to embody them. In short, we must not only light the same candles, but strive to illuminate and overcome the same darkness.

Israelis must begin to fight against the darkness of religious intolerance. Religious freedom must be the foundation of Israel’s democracy, and Israelis must cease to vote primarily for the Maccabean leader who will lead us to victory against external foes, and instead seek a Maccabee who is devoted to creating a Jewish society where all forms of Judaism and all religions are supported and treated with equal respect. No North American Jew will in the long run have a relationship with Israel that does not strive to embody these values.

At the same time, the generation of North American Jews for whom the survival and power of Israel are a given, must learn to recognize and respect the real threats and dangers that their people in Israel experience every day. The time has not yet come when we no longer need the warrior Maccabee. While we share the same values of justice and peace, in the realities of the Middle East, their implementation is challenging at best. Israelis will not feel connected to a North American Jewry that does not appreciate the complexity of this reality.

As a people, we share the same Chanukah. To be a united people, we must learn how to share each other’s stories, share each other’s needs and values, and together fight to embody them in our lives.

Rabbi Dr. Donniel Hartman is president of the Shalom Hartman Institute and author of the 2016 book Putting God Second: How to Save Religion from Itself. This article was initially posted on the Times of Israel in 2015. Articles by Hartman and other institute scholars can be found at shalomhartman.org.

מלגות לסטודנטים חרדים

עמותת ידידות טורונטו עוזרת במלגות לסטודנטים חרדים כדי “ליצור אליטה אקדמית מקצועית רחבה באיכות ובכמות, התורמת רווחתה הכלכלית של החברה החרדית ולפיתוחה של הכלכלה הישראלית“. (צילום: Wikimedia Commons)

עמותת ידידות טורונטו תומכת בסטודנטים מהמגזר החרדי בישראל ומעניקה להם מלגות בשווי של עד שלושה עשר אלף ש”ח. המלגות מיועדות לסטודנטים חרדים בגילאי 20-40 שנמצאים בשנה הראשונה של התואר הראשון. תאריך הגשת הבקשות יסתיים ב-5 בחודש דצמבר, מספר המקומות מוגבל ואין צורך בשום פעילות חברתית התנדבותית לקבלת המלגה. התשובות יוענקו לסטודנטים שהגישו את הבקשות למלגות לפי מצבם הסוציו- אקונומי.

עמותת ידידות טורונטו עוזרת במלגות לסטודנטים חרדים כדי “ליצור אליטה אקדמית מקצועית רחבה באיכות ובכמות, התורמת רווחתה הכלכלית של החברה החרדית ולפיתוחה של הכלכלה הישראלית”. המלגות מיועדות לגברים ונשים המעוניינים לרכוש תואר אקדמי במוסדות המובילים להשכלה גבוהה בישראל. זאת כדי להעניק “מעטפת תמיכה וליווי במסלול הלימודים האקדמי, החל בשלבי ההכוונה ובחירת תחום הלימודים, ועד להשתלבות מיטבית בשוק התעסוקה”. תכנית החרדים באקדמיה פועלת ליצירת מסלולי לימודים ייחודיים ובעלי ישימות תעסוקתית גבוהה לחרדים.

תוכנית חרדים באקדמיה פועלת מזה שש שנים ובוגריה השתלבו בהצלחה בשוק התעסוקה המקומי. המלגות מיועדות לסטודנטים הלומדים בכל אחד מהמוסדות האקדמיים המוכרים בישראל (ומתוקצבים על ידי המוסדות להשכלה גבוהה). היקף המלגות נע בין ששת אלפים ש”ח ועד שלושה עשר אלף ש”ח. בין התנאים המקדימים להגשת הבקשות למלגות: על המועמדים להיות בגילאים המתאימים, להציג תחום הלימודים הנחשב לפורץ דרך (כמו חרדים לרפואה וחרדים לפסכולוגיה), עליהם להיות בעלי רצון ומוטיבציה גבוהה לקבל ליווי בתחום פיתוח הקריירה.

לפרוייקט תוכנית חרדים באקדמיה שותפים בין היתר: המשרד לפיתוח הפריפריה הנגב והגליל, אינטל, מבחר (מכללת בני ברק האקדמית), עמותת מרפא לנפש (מרכז סיוע ושיקום), אוניברסיטת בר-אילן, הלשכה המרכזית לסטטיסטיקה, המרכז האקדמי לב, האוניברסיטה הפתוחה, האוניברסיטה העברית וחברת מלאנוקס טכנולוגיות הישראלית (המתמחה בפיתוח ייצור של מוצרים ורכיבים למערכות תקשורת).

עמותת ידידות טורונטו (מיסודה של קרן פרידברג הקנדית) פועלת להעצמת אוכלוסיות מהפריפריה החברתית בישראל. תחומי העניין העיקריים של העמותה הם: ילדים, נוער וצעירים בסיכון, חילוץ מעוני של אוכלוסיות חלשות וטיפול רגשי, זהות יהודית, שיפור תדמית ישראל בעולם, חינוך, רווחה, בריאות ורפואה. העמותה מפקחת כיום על יותר ממאה ועשרים פרויקטים שונים.

קרן פרידברג עוסקת ברווחה ובצדקה ועזרה למי שנפגעו בעימותם צבאיים בישראל. ממשרדי הקרן ממוקמים ברחוב הביי שטורונטו – שם פועלת קבוצת פרידברג המתעסקת בתחום הפיננסי. את הקרן מפעילים ומנהלים אלברט פרידברג, ננסי פרידברג ויעקב פרידברג. הקרן תורמת ועוזרת לעשרות ארגונים ופרוייקטים שונים בקנדה ובישראל. סך הכל התרומות שלה נאמד ביותר מארבעים וארבעה מיליון דולר בשנה. כ-52 אחוז מהתמיכות מיועד פרוייקטים לרווחה, כ-41 אחוז לפרויקטים לחולים ונזקקים וכ-2 אחוזים לאזורי אסון.

חברת כריית המטבעות הדיגיטליים ביטפארמס מבקשת להיסחר בבורסת טורונטו

חברת כריית המטבעות הדיגיטליים הישראלית ביטפארמס הנסחרת בבורסת ת”א, מבקשת להיסחר גם בבורסה של טורונטו. בימים אלה הוגשה טיוטת תשקיף לנציבות ניירות הערך של מחוז אונטריו – במסגרת רישום מניית החברה למסחר בבורסה של טורונטו. ביטפארמס מעוניית לחשוף את פעילותה למשקיעים נוספים מחוץ לישראל, ובשלב זה טורונטו על הקו, לאחר שרישום מניית החברה למסחר בנסד”ק של ניו יורק לא צלח.

מנכ”ל ביטפארמס אומר: “קנדה נחשבת למובילה בתחום טכנולוגיית בלוקצ’יין וכן בנושא מטבעות דיגיטליים. אנו פועלים ומנוהלים מקנדה ולכן יש לנו יתרונות פוטנציאליים להיסחר בבורסה של טורונטו. הרישום בשתי הבורסות ת”א וטורונטו יכול להביא גם להפתחת דמי הניהול ושכר הטרחה, הנובעים מתפעול ודיווח בתחומי שיפוט שונים”.

סומדייה זכה בערעור בבית המשפט

חוסיין עלי סומדייה :סוכן המוסד לשעבר זכה בערעור בבית המשפט – בקשתו לקבל אזרחות קנדית תידון שוב. (צילום מחוסיין עלי סומדייה)

הסוכן הכפול לשעבר של עיראק, ולאחר מכן של המוסד, חוסיין עלי סומדייה (53), שגר בהמילטון שבמחוז אונטריו ומנסה למנוע את גירושו בשנית לתוניסיה, ניצח בבית המשפט הפדרלי. בהתאם להחלטת השופט (בפסק דין שפורסם בשבוע עבר) רשויות ההגירה ידנו שוב בבקשתו לקבל אזרחות קנדית. כך שיוכל להמשיך ולגור כאן לבקשתו.

בשנת 2005 גורש סומדייה לראשונה לתוניסיה שם הוא עונה לטענתו ולבסוף הצליח לברוח שוב לקנדה. לכן הוא לא מבין כיצד השלטונות ההגירה הקנדיים כל כך נאיבים ולא מבינים מה יעלה בגורלו אם יגיע למדינה ערבית כשלהי, לאחר ששימש מרגל של המוסד הישראלי.

בשנות ה-80 סומדייה גר באנגליה ושימש סוכן כפול של מנגנון הביטחון הסודי העיראקי לשעבר (המחובראת) ולאחר מכן סוכן של המוסד. הוא יליד עיראק ומחזיק גם באזרחות של תוניס כיון שאביו נולד אביו שם. האב חוסיין סומדייה ששימש שגריר עיראק בבלגיה תחת שלטונו של העריץ סאדם חוסיין.

סומדייה שמנסה כאמור בכל כוחו למנוע מהשלטונות הקנדיים את גירושו בשנית לתוניסיה, הגיש ערעור לבית המשפט הפדרלי של קנדה. זאת, לאחר ששרותי ההגירה הפקיעו כבר את תושבות הקבע הקנדית שלו. כשהכוונה בשלב השני בעצם היא לגרשו שוב לתוניסיה. עתה כאמור התקבל הערעור שלו ורשויות ההגירה יאלצו לדון שוב בעיינו. השופט איוון רועי מציין בפסק דינו כי הליך בדיקת המקרה של סומדייה על ידי רשויות ההגירה, היה לא הוגן כלפיו ולא נתאפשר לו לטעון את כל הטענות שבידו לפני קבלת ההחלטה. ולכן התיק חוזר לדיון בפני רשויות ההגירה.

“הסוכן הכפול” סומדייה הגיע לקנדה לראשונה בשנת 1990 לאחר שברח מהשלטון העיראקי וביקש כאן מקלט מדיני. שלטונות ההגירה לא הסכימו שהוא ישאר בקנדה בטענה שיש סבירות גבוהה שבעבודתו כסוכן, חשף לא מעט אנשים למעשי עינויים ואולי אף להוצאה להורג. ובעצם מדובר לכן בפשעים שהוא ביצע נגד האנושות. לאחר שנים של הליך משפט ארוך שכלל ערעורים רבים מצדו שנדחו אחד אחרי השני, סומדייה גורש לתוניסיה בשנת 2005. לאחר כשנה הוא הצליח לברוח מתוניסיה לאלג’יריה עבר להולנד והציג לשגרירות הקנדית בהאג מסמכים מזוייפים, לבקשת מקלט מדיני בקנדה. הוענק לו דרכון חרום וכך טס הוא בחזרה לקנדה בשנת 2006. מאז ועד היום בעצם שוב עניינו נדון בבית המשפט, בזמן שרשויות ההגירה מסרבות להעניק לו תושבות קבע, לאחר שעשה שימוש במסמכים מזוייפים לחזור לקנדה.

פני כשנתיים (ב-2016) רשויות ההגירה החליטו לבדוק שוב את תיק של סומיידה, בין היתר בטענה שלא כל המידע שנמסר להם היה מדוייק. הרשויות הגיעו למסקנה שבאקלים הפולטי הנוכחי לא יעונה לו כל רע בתוניסיה, ואף אחד לא יזכור את עברו. זאת בין היתר, לאור העבודה שתוניסיה לא משמשת עוד הבסיס של הארגון לשחרור פלסטין. סומדייה לא וויתר והגיש כאמור ערעור על עמדת רשויות ההגירה. הוא ממשיך לטעון כל הזמן כי כאחד ששיתף פעולה עם ישראל נשקפת לו סכנת חיים ממשית, אם יחזור למדינה ערבית כלשהי. הוא מוסיף: “המילה המוסד היא המילה מפחידה ביותר והשנואה ביותר בעולם. כל אחד יודע שמי שקשור למדינה היהודית, יעשה לו לינץ’ על ידי ההמון ברחובות של כל עיר ערבית אליה יגיע”.

במשך כשלושים השנים האחרונות הספיק סומדייה להתחתן כבר שלוש פעמים ויש לו שלושה ילדים. הוא גם מחזיק בעסק עצמאי לשיפוצים באזור המילטון והסביבה.

Honoured for their heroism

On Nov. 7, members of the Kalkman family – left to right are Danielle, Victoria, Matthew, Peter and Bonnie – received the Righteous Among the Nations award from the consulate general of Israel in Toronto and Western Canada and the Canadian Society for Yad Vashem, on behalf of Dirk and Klaasje Kalkman. (photo by Rhonda Dent Photography)

One night in the Dutch village of Moordrecht, the call went out: the Nazis were doing a round-up. In a round-up, the Nazis would surround a neighbourhood and then search house by house for those they hunted: Jews, resistance fighters and others they deemed enemies. Wim Kalkman’s family rushed to prepare for their arrival: two Dutchmen who refused to work as forced labour building battlements for the Nazis were taken through a trap door under the carpet in the living room. The really dangerous guest of the family, however, was hidden in plain view. Tanta Ina, they called her, saying she was an aunt who had fled the battle zone on the coast to find refuge with the family.

Tanta Ina was not related to the Kalkmans, however. She was a Jewish woman, the widow of a Dutch-Jewish nobleman who the family had been urged to protect by Reverend Henk Post, the brother of Dutch resistance fighter Johannes Post and a fellow clergyman to Wim’s father, Dirk.

Dirk Kalkman, a pastor in the Dutch Reformed Church, and his wife Klaasje, had taken Catharina Six tot Oterleek-Kuijper in and given her a new identity. They hid her, with the help of their four children, from 1943 to 1945, at great personal risk. On that fearful night, the Nazis did not discover the two Dutchmen or Tanta Ina, who sat on the couch with the rest of the family while they were all interrogated. When a Nazi soldier asked young Wim if the family was hiding anyone, he broke into a gale of nervous laughter, which confused the Nazis, who also began laughing. Fearful of Wim’s sister, who was suffering from diphtheria, the Nazis rushed their search and left.

This was the story that was told to Wim’s son, Peter, and his grandson, Matthew, both of whom were in Vancouver Nov. 7 to receive the Righteous Among the Nations award from the consulate general of Israel in Toronto and Western Canada and the Canadian Society for Yad Vashem, on behalf of Dirk and Klaasje Kalkman.

Righteous Among the Nations are non-Jews who assisted or sheltered Jews during the Holocaust, often at the risk of great peril for themselves and families. The project was established by Yad Vashem in 1963 and to date has granted the award to more than 26,000 people. It had been Wim Kalkman’s lifelong dream to see his parents honoured for their heroism, as Matthew Kalkman told those gathered at the Rothstein Theatre for the ceremony.

After Peter Kalkman read his father’s account of that terrifying night and told the story of his grandparents’ protection of Tanta Ina, Matthew Kalkman gave an emotional speech, often through tears, about the importance of his great-grandparents’ actions to his own life. He said he had first connected with the reality of what his great-grandparents had done when he visited the Anne Frank Museum in Amsterdam.

When his grandfather Wim died in 2014, they discovered a note expressing his dying wish that Wim’s father be honoured. Matthew took up the task personally and, together with researchers in the Netherlands, was able to find definitive evidence of what happened in the Kalkman household so many years ago.

The award was given to the Kalkmans by Consul General Galit Baram on behalf of the state of Israel and by Josh Hacker on behalf of the Canadian Society for Yad Vashem. Liel Amdour, a classical guitarist born in Israel, played two pieces of music that embodied hope and rebirth, and Dr. Ilona Shulman Spaar, education director of the Vancouver Holocaust Education Centre, and Salomon Casseres, president of the Jewish Community Centre of Greater Vancouver, also spoke, as did Karen James, the chair of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver board. All of the speakers touched upon the importance of remembering the heroes of the Holocaust as inspirations in the current times of resurgent nationalism, racism and xenophobia.

Casseres, who has Dutch ancestry, also stressed the relevance of the Kalkmans’ story for himself, as a descendant of Dutch Jews who survived the Holocaust. “In Hebrew,” he said, “we say kol hakavod, which means ‘all the respect.’” In Dutch, he added, “A hearty thank you for your family’s deeds of heroism.”