Israeli-Palestinian conflict

An almost great movie

Coexistence, My Ass! follows Israeli activist and comedian Noam Shuster Eliassi as she develops her show of the same name. (photo from DOXA)

Coexistence, My Ass!, directed and produced by Amber Fares, is almost a great documentary. But it fails to ask at least two key questions that would have made for a more in-depth portrayal of an interesting and complex human being.

Coexistence, My Ass!, whose May 4 screening at the DOXA Documentary Film Festival already has sold out, is about comedian Noam Shuster Eliassi, who was born in Wahat Al-Salam / Neve Shalom / Oasis of Peace, a village in which Jewish and Palestinian Israelis have chosen to live together. It has been considered a model of coexistence and Shuster Eliassi grew up amid the idealism it represented, and speaks Arabic fluently. She and her best friend (to this day), Ranin, a Palestinian Israeli living in Oasis of Peace, were among the kids trotted out as the generation who would bring peace.

Shuster Eliassi’s mother is Jewish Iranian and her father is Jewish Romanian. The couple met in high school (in what country is not revealed), so basically grew up together. They decided to live in Oasis of Peace and became, says Shuster Eliassi in her act, what most Israelis love to hate most: woke, progressive leftists. “They believe in the radical idea that Israelis and Palestinians deserve the same equal human rights! Crazy. So radical.”

It seems important to know why Shuster Eliassi’s parents left their respective countries to live in Israel, but especially her mother. With Iran as the main funder of Hamas’s – and other terrorists’ – murderous activities, and the fact that tens of thousands of Jews had to flee after the 1979 revolution, it seems that Shuster Eliassi’s mother’s experience is crucial to understanding Shuster Eliassi. But this question, if ever asked, doesn’t make it into the film.

Shuster Eliassi is an intelligent and accomplished person. By age 15, she had graduated, so to speak, from being one of the kids giving flowers to visiting celebrities (who would often mistake her, because of her dark skin, for being Palestinian – and with such good Hebrew!) to speaking around the world about coexistence and the possibilities for peace. At 21, she got a full scholarship at Brandeis University for being a peace activist. She even met the Dalai Lama, who, she quips, didn’t think she was Palestinian – “He just thought I was Indian.”

At 25, Shuster Eliassi landed a “peace worker’s dream job” – a position at the United Nations. We don’t learn much about what her job entailed, but there are clips of her speaking about the West Bank and Gaza as being the biggest prisons in the world, and how “the occupation” affects Palestinians and Israelis. Career-wise, she was on a wave of success, she says in her show, when she saw Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s TV program, made before he was elected, about a comedian who becomes president. Zelenskyy, of course, then did become president, so Shuster Eliassi observes that, if she wanted to take her political career seriously, she needed to start writing jokes.

photo - Comedian Noam Shuster Eliassi in performance — Comedian Noam Shuster Eliassi in performance. *(photo from DOXA)*

This takes us to where the film begins, with her at Harvard in 2019, where she’s been asked to deliver a peace-building project. She tells them that Coexistence, My Ass! will be that project, and she’s accepted.

In the documentary, we see the development of Coexistence, My Ass! and how Shuster Eliassi’s views change as the political situation in Israel deteriorates and the violence increases. Her parents are often her sounding board, as are friends and fellow comedians. We witness the results of a hate crime – the school in Oasis of Peace was set on fire in September 2020. We see moments of happiness, most unexpectedly, perhaps, when Shuster Eliassi returns to Israel from the United States with COVID and must be quarantined in a hotel, where sick Jews and Palestinians are being isolated from the general population.

“And everyone is radically getting along. This is a 5-star oasis of peace. If they continue getting along, my comedy career is over. Just kidding, you’ve read the news, I have material for years. Netanyahu has my back,” says Shuster Eliassi in her act. “Somebody give him a beeper,” she adds sheepishly, referring to Israel’s taking out of Hezbollah with exploding pagers in September 2024.

Months before Oct. 7, 2023, Shuster Eliassi was disillusioned and would get into yelling matches with Jewish Israelis protesting the Netanyahu government and dangers to democracy because their protests didn’t also explicitly call for equal rights for Palestinians. Whereas pre-COVID, she says, “My biggest responsibility is to speak to my people…. The Jewish audience is where we have to work,” the purpose of Shuster Eliassi’s comedy ceases at some point to be a way to encourage peace and becomes a form of resistance.

After Oct. 7, when some of Shuster Eliassi’s family and friends abandon their belief in coexistence because they feel peace with Palestinians isn’t possible, Shuster Eliassi goes the other way, giving up on coexistence because she feels – though doesn’t state explicitly – that peace with Jewish Israelis is not possible.

Moria, a comedy writer, advises Shuster Eliassi that people need to hear what Shuster Eliassi has to say, but it can’t just be “genocide, genocide!” The role of a comedian, says Moria, is “to bring people together. To unify. We can’t stop the killing, but we can unify people. To get people to see the world through your eyes.”

“No, that’s not what I’m doing,” responds Shuster Eliassi, who explains that her goal isn’t to unify, it’s “to voice resistance to this insane show of force that has swept everyone up blindly.”

Shuster Eliassi’s friend Ranin reluctantly retains hope for coexistence because, otherwise, she tells Shuster Eliassi, there is no place for Palestinians and Arabs within Israel. For Shuster Eliassi, though, by the end of the film, there seems to be no place for Jews in Israel. She only sees fault with Israel, and somehow thinks that Hamas wouldn’t want to kill all Jews if Israel had dealt with “the occupation.”

If memory serves, Hamas is only mentioned once in the documentary, in a clip from Shuster Eliassi’s show, where it is part of a joke, perhaps one told before 2023, it’s not clear. Why Hamas plays little or no role in Shuster Eliassi’s view of the evolving situation is the second of those two key questions that would have made Coexistence, My Ass! a better film.

While Shuster Eliassi laments that Israelis – even the coexistence crowd – are not able to meet Palestinians where they’re at, she is unable to meet her fellow Jewish Israelis where they are at. While she is comfortable performing at a Palestinian festival where she’s greeted by a man wearing a “Palestine vs the world” T-shirt that, on the back, has a Palestinian flag over all Israel, she isn’t comfortable with Israelis who would fill out that same map with no Palestinian territories. While she is correct that peace is only possible between equals, she only sees one oppressor – Israel. Not Hamas. Not any other international party, like Iran. Just Israel.

Many of the people at the sold-out screening of Coexistence, My Ass! will think it’s the most amazing film ever because, despite attempting to be fair – and it seems like Fares honestly did try to present multiple sides – it ultimately heralds their anti-Zionist beliefs and justifies them. Others will be disappointed that Coexistence, My Ass! ends up being just another anti-Israel film, which will, no doubt, win more awards than it has already, despite its critical flaws.

Pondering peace post-Oct. 7

Commemorations of individuals murdered at the Nova festival. (photo by Pat Johnson)

Since I returned home to Vancouver from Israel a few weeks ago, it has taken me time to write about my reflections. There’s the usual getting over jetlag, catching up with work, dealing with the odds and ends that pile up after a five-week absence. I have also experienced a degree of avoidance. In some ways, there is so much to say I don’t know where to begin. In other ways, what can I possibly say that hasn’t been said before?

Unlike Israelis, I have had the luxury of putting my head in the sand, to some extent, in the days since I returned to my ridiculously quiet suburban home. My experiences – including a visit to the Gaza Envelope, Kibbutz Re’im and the Nova festival site, and conversations with scores of Israelis – have been percolating. In recent days, I have been immersed in video testimonies and other reports from survivors of the Oct. 7 attacks.

One of the reasons I have avoided writing so far, I think, is that the parallel I feel compelled to make is one that I hate to invoke. I intentionally avoid making comparisons with the Holocaust, as almost any contrast cheapens the sanctity of that event’s memory. It also is unavoidably an exaggeration – nothing can compare to the Holocaust. And so, we should not be in the business of raising false equivalencies.

But not everyone subscribes to my hesitancy. More than one Israeli I spoke to referred to Kibbutz Be’eri as “Auschwitz.”

Although I was guided around the sites of the Oct. 7 atrocities by a senior Israeli military official, we were denied entry to Be’eri, which came as a relief. I didn’t want to make the choice not to go in, but I was glad that decision was made for me.

I had to ask myself – as other people asked me – why I was compelled to visit these places in the first place? I had not, for example, taken the opportunity to watch the footage that screened in Vancouver last year of the most terrible carnage from Oct. 7. I believed that I knew enough of what happened that I did not need to be exposed to the images so graphically. (There are people, on the other hand, who I think should be forced to watch such footage.)

I could say no to the video but, in Israel, I felt an obligation to bear witness in what small way I could by visiting the Nova festival site and other locations, including Highway 232. My guide, who was among the first on the scene during the morning of Oct. 7, provided (as you can imagine) a jarring play-by-play of what he witnessed, saw, heard and smelled that day.

As I watch documentaries and continue to read about the events, and hear from eyewitnesses, including those who defended their kibbutzim, and military personnel who were among the first on the scene, it is almost impossible for the mind not to go to historical parallels.

I hear stories of people pretending to be dead for hours while murderous attackers surrounded them. Testimony recounts the nonchalant murder of the elderly, babies, anyone and everyone the terrorists could kill – as well as the collaboration of “ordinary” civilians.

The ripping apart of families. Parents shielding their children from gunshots. Families huddling as they are engulfed in flames. Survivors’ stories of screams still ringing in their ears. Jews recalling what they were sure were the last moments of their life. Acts of brutality that defy human imagination. Sadistic jubilation while perpetrating acts that make most people recoil. Residents of a village reconnoitring after the catastrophe to determine who remains alive.

The parallels are, to me at least, unavoidable.

There is, of course, a quantitative chasm between this modern horror and that of the Shoah. It is this difference that also makes comparisons so incredibly problematic. But it is the qualitative experiences, the grotesque similarities between Nazi atrocities and those of Hamas, that force the mind to go in that direction.

While visiting Jerusalem, I stumbled upon a pathway that begins at Yad Vashem, the Holocaust memorial museum and research centre, and winds through the military cemeteries in which the casualties of Israel’s successive defensive wars and endless terror attacks are buried, as are most of the country’s prime ministers, presidents and other leading figures. The pathway ends at the tomb of Theodor Herzl, the man most credited with making real the dream of a Jewish state, and adjacent to the museum that tells his life story.

The message here is that, from the moral abyss of the Holocaust to the sustaining of national self-determination as envisioned by Herzl, the path has had an unimaginable human cost.

The promise of the state of Israel, in Herzl’s mind, was that a people who were no longer stateless would not be subject to the predations of their brutalizing neighbours. Like so much else Herzl envisioned – he imagined that Jews would be welcomed for the positive contributions they bring to the region – a state has not ushered in the lasting peace for which he had hoped.

photo - An empty Shabbat table set for missing loved ones at Hostages Square in Tel Aviv — An empty Shabbat table set for missing loved ones at Hostages Square in Tel Aviv. *(photo by Pat Johnson)*

We have known this since the moment Israel’s independence was declared and the new country was immediately invaded by the massed armies of its neighbouring countries. The Arab states unanimously rejected coexistence and soon Jews from across the Middle East and North Africa were expelled or otherwise forced to flee, most finding a home in the new Jewish state. The Arabs who were not within Israel’s border at the time of the 1949 ceasefire – and their generations of descendants – have been held as stateless people ever since in one of history’s most cynical acts.

What is still able to shock, even in a world where we have become inured to inhumanity, is that there are people who experience joy at Jewish death and thrill at the opportunity to torture, terrorize and kill Jews. A state has not removed that possibility from the world.

If there was one single objective for the existence of a Jewish state, this was it: the basic security of the Jewish person. On Oct. 7, that promise was broken.

While many Israelis told me that Oct. 7 demonstrated that coexistence with Palestinians is impossible, other people told me that it merely made them redouble their commitment to building a future of peace and coexistence. If I went back to those who said Oct. 7 taught us to work harder for peace with Palestinians, would they see a cognitive dissonance in my position as I do with theirs?

If the existence of a Jewish state cannot prevent the most basic thing it was created to realize, is the entire enterprise a failure?

A Jewish state does not guarantee, obviously, that Jews will not still and again experience the atrocities that have befallen them historically. It is, nevertheless, the best defence, however imperfect.

The Israelis who told me they must work harder for peace believe that, when our ideal falls short, rather than give up, we have to do more to attain it. For them, that means doubling down on peace activism. I admire their idealism.

For me, any realistic plan for peace is worthy of consideration. But I will also double down and say that the answer to a Jewish state that fails to live up to its core mission of keeping Jewish people from reliving the horrors of the past is also not to give up – but to continue building a Jewish state that is impermeable, unparalleled in strength and impervious to the genocidal assaults of its neighbours.

Reflecting on the thousands I saw buried along the pathway between Yad Vashem and Herzl’s tomb, I believe that, until Israel’s neighbours are incapable of the sorts of atrocities we have seen, Israelis must work for peace, on the one hand, while assuming their neighbours won’t change, on the other.

Not such a great divide

Co-authors Raja G. Khouri, left, and Jeffrey J. Wilkinson in a conversation at Canadian Memorial United Church and Centre for Peace June 13. (photo by Pat Johnson)

To bridge a divide between peoples, Jews and Palestinians need to listen and understand one another’s stories of trauma, according to two authors who spoke in Vancouver June 13.

“Not only do we not know each other’s narrative, we don’t want to know each other’s narrative,” said Raja G. Khouri. “We are resistant to the other’s narrative. Palestinians need to understand Jewish suffering and Jews need to understand Palestinian suffering.”

Khouri, founding president of the Canadian Arab Institute, is a Palestinian-Canadian. With Jeffrey J. Wilkinson, a Jewish American who lives in Canada, he wrote The Wall Between: What Jews and Palestinians Don’t Want to Know About Each Other.

The two men have been engaged in ongoing dialogue around trauma and other topics related to Israel and Palestine. Their book was released four days before the Oct. 7 terror attacks.

Jewish trauma from the Holocaust and Palestinian trauma from the Nakba, or the “Catastrophe” of the 1948 war, replay in various ways among the peoples today, said Wilkinson, an educator who works on issues of trauma.

“It’s not about amount of loss,” said Wilkinson. “Six million Jews died, 750,000 Palestinians [were] displaced. That impact is not about the numbers. That impact is about that loss, that something being taken from you, that feeling of anger, resistance.”

The conversation, at Canadian Memorial United Church and Centre for Peace, was sponsored by Vancouver Friends of Standing Together, in partnership with several other organizations. Standing Together describes itself as “a progressive grassroots movement mobilizing Jewish and Palestinian citizens of Israel against the occupation and for peace, equality and social justice.”

The authors acknowledge the chasms between the consensus Israeli and Palestinian narratives, while carefully noting that they did not claim to speak on behalf of their respective peoples.

“Zionists are saying 1967, 1967, 1967,” said Wilkinson, referring to the war that marks the beginning of what many consider “the occupation.”

“Palestinians are saying 1948, 1948, 1948. The two-state solution does nothing to address 1948,” Wilkinson said.

A two-state solution is not something either author views as a reasonable proposition, said Wilkinson – unless it is as a waystation to an alternative that neither author spelled out explicitly.

“I’m not saying it’s a bad solution and you can’t support it,” Wilkinson said of the idea of two states. “But I want you to frame it from the perspective of justice, and it does not address the injustice of Palestinians.”

While the evening – and the book – were billed as a conversation across barriers, the divide was not as big as advertised. Both authors view the existence of Israel as a problem to be solved.

“I believe that Zionism and my Judaism are not compatible,” Wilkinson said. “That does not lessen my compassion for the vast majority of my community who are somewhere on that journey but not where I am, and I embrace you as you walk through that.”

Wilkinson explicitly denounced the extremist rhetoric heard in some anti-Israel protests, such as calls to destroy Tel Aviv and telling Jews to “go back to Poland.”

Khouri said Palestinians believe that “the antisemitism label” has been misused to silence them.

“We both know that antisemitism is real and it’s dangerous,” he said. “But, to Palestinians, it is a weapon that has been used to silence criticism, or at least that’s what we believe. And it’s important to get that.”

Both men believe there is a misunderstanding around definitions of terms.

Israelis and their allies might hear the word “apartheid” and reject it.

“Lens the word from the person who is speaking,” Wilkinson advised, outlining how he views separate treatment of Palestinians as equivalent to the racist regime of 20th-century South Africa.

“Likewise with terms like genocide,” said Khouri. “We both avoided using the term for the longest time. But I can tell you there isn’t a Palestinian I know who isn’t convinced that this is absolute genocide because of the mass killing that is happening. Whether it meets the legal definition of genocide or not, it feels very much like genocide.”

The defensiveness that comes around these terms, they said, is a barrier to the peoples’ understanding of each other.

The flexibility of definitions extends to the term “intifada.”

“When you hear someone, say, we’re calling for intifada, ask them what they mean by this,” said Khouri. “Do you mean going and blowing up cafés and buses?”

Neither author offered their interpretation of the term.

The Oct. 7 attacks took place in a particular context, they said.

“If you fixate on Oct. 7 only, then you’re missing a big part of the picture,” said Khouri.

“That doesn’t mean you grieve less for the victims of Oct. 7,” Wilkinson said. “It doesn’t mean that.”

Avril Orloff, representing Vancouver Friends of Standing Together, emceed the event. Rabbi Laura Duhan Kaplan, director of inter-religious studies and professor of Jewish studies at the Vancouver School of Theology provided a land acknowledgment and contextualized the discussion in the context of Shavuot, which was ending as the event began.

Srulik, meet Handala

The ways in which the characters of Srulik, left, and Handala epitomize the historical and cultural narrative of the Israelis and Palestinians, respectively, imbue these cartoons with an impact stronger than words. (photo by Gil Zohar)

Driving east from Jerusalem on the winding Jordanian-built road that once led down from the Mount of Olives to the Dead Sea, one passes through a series of picturesque Arab suburbs and soon comes to a dead end in front of the grotesque West Bank barrier.

Called Geder ha-Hafrada (separation fence) in Hebrew and jidar al-fasl al-’unsuri (apartheid wall) in Arabic, the insurmountable (if still incomplete) eight-metre-high concrete barrier has no doubt contributed to a reduction in terrorism and car theft. However, my objection to it is more existential: like some of those in West Berlin who spray-painted their protest for freedom on the Bundesrepublik side of die Mauer even as armed GDR guards used deadly force to prevent anyone from approaching the wall’s eastern side, I believe all walls must fall.

It is a metaphor that has repeated itself from Joshua’s encircling of Jericho, to the Berlin Wall and its remaining East Side Gallery, to Garth Hewitt’s ballad “They’ve Canceled Christmas in Bethlehem,” about the stranglehold the wall has placed on both day-to-day life and religious pilgrimage in the place where Jesus, “the Prince of Peace,” was born 2,000-plus years ago.

The world today is caught between two conflicting ideologies: some democratic countries joining in unions with open borders, joint legal systems and a common currency, of which the European Union – notwithstanding its problems – is a great success. Then, there are other countries – many repressive and undemocratic – defending their borders with minefields and walls. Like John Lennon, I prefer the first vision – of a growing global union without barriers. Imagine that.

Thus, armed with the tools of the graffiti artist – an X-ACTO knife, cardboard stencil and spray paint – I recently made my way to Abu Dis with my friend Hajj Ibrahim Abu el-Hawa, my daughter Bareket and fellow artist Eva Feld to make our mark. Reasoning that a picture is worth a thousand words, we chose a symbolic image whose meaning is unequivocal.

The image we created depicts Handala raising hands with Srulik (see picture). The two iconic cartoon characters are respectively well known by Palestinians and Israelis – yet, each is equally unknown by the other. It is a symmetry of ignorance of the other’s narrative that will have to be overcome before true peace can be achieved.

Allow me to explain the mirror meanings of the twin caricatures.

Handala – an omnipresent image on T-shirts and key chains in the aswaq (plural of suq, market) of Jerusalem, the West Bank and Gaza Strip – was created by Naji al-’Ali in 1969. A 10-year-old child driven in 1948 from his Galilee village of ash-Shajara (14 kilometres from Tiberias) to the ‘Ain al-Hilweh refugee camp in Lebanon, al-’Ali went on to become the leading political cartoonist in the Arab world.

Before being assassinated in London in 1987, he produced more than 40,000 bitingly sarcastic cartoons lampooning Arab leaders and lamenting the stateless status of his people. His autobiographical image of Handala – a barefoot, faceless, refugee youth – remains a potent symbol of the struggle of the Palestinian people for justice and self-determination.

Al-’Ali wrote: “Handala is my signature. I gave birth to this child in the [Persian] Gulf. He was born 10 years old, and he will always be 10. At that age, I left my homeland and, when he returns, Handala will still be 10, and then he will start growing up. The laws of nature do not apply to him. He is unique. Things will become normal again when the homeland returns.”

Impish Srulik – a diminutive of Yisrael (Israel) – carries an equally rich symbolism in depicting nascent Israel and, in particular, its native-born Sabras. The illustrated character was first drawn in 1956 by the cartoonist Kariel Gardosh, better known by his nom de plume, Dosh. The Hungarian-born Holocaust survivor drew Srulik for decades in the pages of the daily Maariv, until his death in 2000.

Dosh generally depicted Srulik as a young man wearing a kova tembel hat, “biblical sandals” and khaki shorts. He drew him as a pioneering Zionist and lover of the land of Israel, a dedicated farmer who in time of need dons an Israel Defence Forces uniform and goes out to defend the state of Israel, equipped with an Uzi machine gun. In contrast to the antisemitic stereotype of the weak or cunning Jew, which appeared in the Nazi weekly Der Stürmer and other European and Arab newspapers and journals, Dosh’s Srulik was a proud, strong and sympathetic Jewish character.

Shalom Rosenfeld, editor of Maariv from 1974 to 1980, wrote: “Srulik became not only a mark of recognition of [Dosh’s] amazing daily cartoons, but an entity standing on its own, as a symbol of the land of Israel – beautiful, lively, innocent … and having a little chutzpah and, naturally, also of the new Jew.”

Introducing Srulik to Palestinians and Handala to Israelis is not a bad way to begin to redress each side’s ignorance of the other’s narrative. The ways in which they epitomize the historical and cultural narrative of their own people imbue these cartoons with an impact stronger than words.

When a peace treaty is ultimately implemented between Israel and Palestine (as I’m sure it must), perhaps the image of Handala and Srulik holding hands could be adopted as a neutral symbol of coexistence and nonviolence. Their creators, Naji al-’Ali and Kariel Gardosh, both knew firsthand of persecution and exile, and the iconic figures they bequeathed us share the hope of living in freedom and peace. When peace finally arrives, new and emotionally satisfying images and symbols will need to be created to bridge the chasm between Jews and Arabs in our broken Promised Land.

Gil Zohar is a writer and tour guide in Jerusalem.

Roots of Arab-Israeli conflict?

The historic milestones that led to the creation of the state of Israel are well known: Theodor Herzl’s Zionist congresses, the Balfour Declaration, the Partition Resolution, the War of Independence. Oren Kessler – who participates in the Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival on Feb. 13 – believes that a significant chunk of history has been largely overlooked and he sets out to right that wrong in his new book, Palestine 1936: The Great Revolt and the Roots of the Middle East Conflict. The Arab uprising of 1936 to 1939 in Palestine, he writes, “was the crucible in which Palestinian identity coalesced.” It also set in stone the intransigence toward Jewish self-determination in the region.

An Arab reaction to increased Jewish migration to Palestine – presaging both the potential for an eventual Jewish majority in the British-controlled Mandate and an even more alarming political outcome, a Jewish national homeland – inspired three years of Arab terror and British colonial repression, with the Jews inevitably caught between, argues Kessler.

Beginning with a series of strikes and protests in April 1936, the haphazard opposition to British rule and Jewish immigration was soon corralled and led by the notorious Grand Mufti of Jerusalem, Hajj Amin al-Husseini, into a mass movement of terror and anti-colonial (and anti-Jewish) violence.

While the British, on the one hand, hammered the Arab guerrillas – and plenty of civilians – they also rewarded that violence with policies such as those emerging from the 1937 Peel Commission report and the 1939 White Paper, both of which effectively caved to Arab demands by massively reducing Jewish immigration just as the Nazis were closing their fists across Europe. At the same time, the British left the Arabs unsatisfied by throwing tiny offerings to the Jews as a sign of compromise.

So unyielding was the mufti’s opposition to even considering Jewish migration that his Arab Higher Committee boycotted the various commissions’ hearings.

“Amid Hajj Amin’s boycott, no Arabs came forward,” writes Kessler. “Jerusalem Vice Mayor Hassan Sidqi Dajani, the mufti opponent who had once contemplated testifying, was found along the train tracks outside the city with two broken hands and two bullet holes in his forehead.”

In the end, the revolt was a disaster for everyone.

“The great revolt had exacted a withering toll on Palestine,” writes Kessler. “About 500 Jews had been killed and some 1,000 wounded. British troops and police suffered around 250 fatalities in their ranks. But the most onerous price of all was paid by the Arabs themselves: at least 5,000 – perhaps more than 8,000 – were dead, of whom at least 1,500 likely fell at Arab hands. More than 20,000 were seriously wounded.”

The Arab economy in Palestine was ruined, even as the Jewish economy hummed along.

Kessler’s thesis is that the events of 1936-1939 deserve to be recognized more as pivotal to the history of the region as a whole. There are also voluminous parallels and lessons for contemporary times in his review of that era.

The uprising did not, in the end, prevent Jewish national self-determination in Palestine. What it did prevent was a refuge for the Jews of Europe when they needed it most – and, for at least some of the players in this tragic drama, like the Hitler-allied mufti, perhaps that was a reward in itself.

The Cherie Smith JCC Jewish Book Festival runs Feb. 10-15. For tickets, visit jccgv.com/jewish-book-festival.

Pill-popping for peace?

Antisemitism, dubbed “the longest hatred,” has seemed impervious to challenge. It is a social problem that shifts to meet demand, allowing perpetrators to tailor it to fit their “need.” What if there were a pill you could prescribe to “cure” a person of antisemitism? There may be.

It seems almost like an April Fool’s joke or a Purim spoof, but the timing isn’t quite right. Rob Eshman, senior contributing editor to the Forward, published a piece last weekend suggesting there may indeed be a pharmaceutical answer to this age-old problem.

MDMA, the understandably needed short form for the drug methylenedioxymethamphetamine – aka “Ecstasy” or “Molly” – has been popular for some time, primarily with people who enjoy what the U.S. National Institutes of Health calls its effects of “sympathomimetic arousal, sensual enhancement, feelings of euphoria, and emotional closeness to others.”

Like most good things, of course, this drug comes with a wide range of unwelcome side effects. But the trade-offs have been deemed worthy enough that the drug has been used in Israel since 2019 to combat post-traumatic stress disorder, Eshman writes, and the U.S. Food and Drug Administration is expected to approve it for some uses in the next couple of years.

Israel’s use of MDMA for PTSD is far from the only Jewish connection the author found. The drug was first synthesized more than a century ago by Alexander Shulgin, a California pharmacologist whose Jewish family fled Russia, and who has been called “the zeyde of psychedelics.”

Last month, science journalist Rachel Nuwer (also Jewish) published the book I Feel Love: MDMA and the Search for Connection in a Fractured World, in which she shares the story of a white supremacist who was integral to the 2017 hate rally in Charlottesville, Va. After treatment with MDMA, the individual renounced his racist orientation and declared “Love is the most important thing.”

If there is a chance that an ingestible element (currently a banned substance in Canada, the United States and most places) could address a major scourge of civilization – not just antisemitism but all forms of hatred – do we not owe it to ourselves to allocate resources to investigating the pros (and cons)?

A variety of research is ongoing, of course, including an annual Jewish Psychedelic Summit, where medical, religious, psychology and other experts discuss psychedelics and Judaism. (It’s a virtual affair, so one can only imagine the hospitality suites if it were in-person.)

The application of plant medicines and synthetic drugs to combat what we generally deem a social problem may seem dubious – and researchers say it probably wouldn’t work if the recipient isn’t predisposed to change. However, the idea may not be as outrageous as it sounds. We recently ran an article about the late psychotherapist Dr. Theodore Isaac Rubin, whose landmark 1990 book Anti-Semitism: A Disease of the Mindposited that bias against Jews could in many instances be considered a mental disorder. We have long accepted, welcomed even, pharmaceutical responses to treatable mental issues. Why not this one?

Of course, anything that changes brain chemistry or neurobiology should be approached with immense care – more care, for example, than we have demonstrated in wildly embracing over the past several decades the new technologies that have been shown to shorten our attention spans and alter the functioning of our brains, as we discussed in this space last issue.

At the same time, we would be foolish to ignore the potential for something that could ameliorate some of the worst characteristics of the human experience. Think back at the horrors that might have been alleviated had we been able to slip a “love potion” into the water glasses of history’s most evil figures.

Some experts, Eshman explains, are looking into the role MDMA could play in addressing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. While we work on other avenues for the changes needed to bring more love and justice to the challenges inherent in that conflict, if there is a glimmer of hope that a chemical solution exists for some of the most destructive features of our species, we would be fools to dismiss it.

IDF incursion into Jenin

As in the instance of many complicated issues, we cannot begin a discussion of specific issues without providing background and context. Earlier this month, the Israel Defence Forces entered Jenin, located in what many Jews call Judea and Samaria. This portion of the originally mandated territory is in Area A under the governing authority of the Palestinian Authority in accordance with international agreements called the Oslo Accords.

This agreement was voluntarily implemented by Israel because the accords were never signed by the PA, then under the leadership of the now-deceased Yasser Arafat. At that time, there was the international aspiration that there might be a two-state solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Under the agreement, the disputed territory occupied by Israel after three wars was divided into three areas. Area C, the largest piece, was essentially vacant land with little population and was solely under Israeli governance. Area B was under joint Israel-PA governance. Area A, which was the most populated and had all-Arab cities, was under sole PA governance. Jenin is one of those cities.

Under the accords, Israel retained overall responsibility for security, including responsibility for maintaining security for all borders.

Over the years, Israel made a number of offers to the PA to resolve differences. The PA declined to consider any of them. They insisted on a return to 1948 Armistice borders and independent statehood with their own armed forces. Based on Israel’s experience with Gaza and Lebanon, this was unacceptable to Israel.

The goodwill toward Palestinians that was evidently held by an important element of the Jewish population seems mostly to have been forfeited over time. An appreciation has grown that there is no acceptable solution for the Arab side that would allow for a viable Jewish state. Consequently, for many, the idea of a two-state solution is no longer feasible.

Meanwhile, the PA has maintained a hostile attitude to Israel, educating young Arabs to hate Jews and to aspire to murder them, and paying the families of deceased and jailed terrorists substantial pensions. Many suicidal activists have been incentivized in their actions by these awards for their families. These payments are a part of the PA budget.

Further, popular support from the Arab population has shifted from the PA to the terrorist organizations headquartered in Gaza and in Beirut, Lebanon. Elections for PA leadership have continually been postponed to avoid the takeover by Hamas that occurred in Gaza. Hezbollah controls the government of Lebanon. Both these entities are now financed by Iran, which has publicly announced their intention to eradicate the Jewish state.

The situation has been aggravated by the increasing incapacity of current leadership. PA President Mahmoud Abbas is reportedly in ill health. There is now competition as to who will replace him. This has caused further internal conflict, which has impaired PA functioning. Measures aimed at controlling terrorist operations or crime gangs would not encourage popularity.

With this background, we can turn to consideration of the Jenin event.

While there is theoretical cooperation with the PA on security matters, more and more it has fallen to Israeli forces alone to carry out this task. Although the PA claims statehood, more and more it has failed to build the infrastructure required. Particularly over the last two years, security in the major Palestinian centres under their jurisdiction has been lacking. Crime is rife and terrorist organizations have used the vacuum to establish a network aimed at destroying Israel, financed primarily by Iran.

In recent months, Israel has suffered 58 attacks having their origins in Judea and Samaria. Often, the perpetrators escape to hide in sanctuaries established within the Arab population centres in the region. Arms and monies have been smuggled into that area from Jordan. One diplomat from Jordan has been arrested and charged in this regard.

The IDF exercise involving a brigade-strength force is likely the first of a number that will try and establish a return to law and order in Area A, in Judea and Samaria. Remarkably, the IDF was able to carry out its mission in densely populated Jenin while avoiding any civilian casualties. Sadly, there were two IDF fatalities.

The failure of the PA to carry out its responsibilities leaves Israel with no alternative. Even with the IDF’s efforts, many of the terrorists in this specific area escaped. Four locations in the local network were disrupted, one of them located in a mosque basement. Arms caches were removed along with funds that were found, which were being used to finance terror activities. Almost 100 operatives were arrested and 18 were killed – all were combatants.

The situation indicates that this is only the first of similar necessary exercises to discourage attacks on innocent civilians. We will probably see this not only in Jenin but in other population centres in the region. We may see the program carried out despite efforts by many parties around the world seeking to vilify the Jewish state.

Max Roytenberg is a Vancouver-based poet, writer and blogger. His book Hero in My Own Eyes: Tripping a Life Fantastic is available from Amazon and other online booksellers.

Claims of speech suppression

Independent Jewish Voices Canada recently released the report Unveiling the Chilly Climate: The Suppression of Speech on Palestine. It was compiled by Dr. Sheryl Nestel and Rowan Gaudet for IJV Canada.

Nestel is a retired sociology professor from OISE (Ontario Institute for Studies in Education), University of Toronto, and Gaudet is a master’s student at the University of Bologna in the global cultures program; he has done research for IJV in the past. The text below is from their report’s executive summary.

Focused on the Canadian context, the report seeks to shed light on the wave of suppression of speech regarding Palestine that is sweeping North America and parts of Europe. It documents the impact of reprisals, harassment and intimidation faced by Canadian activists, faculty, students and organizations in relation to scholarship and activism in solidarity with the struggle for Palestinian human rights. There is a connection to be made here between these attacks and efforts by pro-Israel advocacy groups to market the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance Working Definition of Antisemitism (IHRA), a document that has come under vigorous attack by defenders of academic freedom and Palestinian human rights. While its proponents argue that this definition will not threaten freedom of expression or inhibit criticism of Israeli policies, the findings of this report demonstrate that these basic rights are already under threat and could be further imperiled if the IHRA were to be widely adopted.

The contribution of this report is two-fold: 1) the amount and quality of information gathered here is unprecedented and speaks to the worrisome prevalence of harassment and suppression of speech on Palestine on campuses and in Canadian civil society and 2) it surpasses a simple documentation of instances of repression by employing an ethnographic methodology to analyze the so-called “chilling effect” and its impact on governmental, institutional and individual decision-making. This research project situates itself firmly within the realm of critical qualitative inquiry, which seeks to employ qualitative research for social justice purposes, including making such research available for public education, social policy formulation and the transformation of public discourse. The inquiry is also shaped by decolonizing methodologies of social science research, which seek to challenge institutions, academic and otherwise, which prioritize colonial forms of knowledge production and maintain institutional commitments that impede indigenous self-determination. Finally, Nestel and Gaudet follow the directives proposed by queer, feminist and antiracist research methodologies, which entreat people to consider how their positions in social hierarchies of race, class, sexuality and citizenship mediate their experiences.

In all, the researchers collected 77 testimonies from 40 faculty members, 23 students, seven activists and seven representatives of organizations. Testimonies were collected from participants in Ontario, Manitoba, British Columbia, Saskatchewan, Nova Scotia, Quebec and Alberta. Among the academics responding were representatives of 11 disciplines from 21 Canadian universities.

Interviewees recounted that their experiences included political intervention into hiring; attempts to prevent access to event venues; and the attempted cancellation of public events on Palestine, as well as targeting and doxing, including the inclusion of 128 Canadian academics and activists on the website of Canary Mission, an organization that purports to document “individuals and organizations that promote hatred of the U.S., Israel and Jews on North American college campuses.” Threats of violence and genuine acts of violence were experienced by student activists and these often contained racial and sexual slurs including threats of sexual violence. Students were subject to warnings and disciplinary measures by university administrators whom respondents often described as being hostile to Palestine solidarity activism on campus. Faculty respondents reported restrictions on academic freedom, self-censoring of expression on Palestinian human rights, discriminatory treatment by academic publishing platforms, harassment by pro-Israel advocacy groups and media outlets, attacks from colleagues, political interference by university administration, classroom surveillance by pro-Israel student groups, and anti-Palestinian and anti-Arab racism. Indeed, the suppression of speech on Palestine has significant consequences in academia, where it threatens principles of academic freedom and encourages surveillance of critical intellectuals and activists and of the oppositional knowledge that they produce.

As the research by Nestel and Gaudet reveals, the precarious employment conditions of more than half of Canada’s university teachers mean that, because of the “chilly climate” around speech on Palestine, untenured or pre-tenure faculty are reluctant to pursue academic or activist work in this area for fear of endangering contract renewals or future career prospects including access to publishing platforms so central to the academic tenure and promotion process.

Unsubstantiated allegations of antisemitic intent and support for terrorism are commonly leveled against pro-Palestine academics and activists. Significantly, Palestinians, Muslims and non-Arab racialized participants appear to have borne the brunt of direct attacks on their scholarship and activism. The emotional impact of harassment and suppression was felt most acutely by Palestinian students and faculty interviewed. Jewish activists were not immune to attack and were often characterized by opponents as “kapos” or “self-hating Jews.”

The report also documents how both on- and off-campus Israel-advocacy organizations have been at the forefront of efforts to suppress speech and activism on Palestine. As University of Pennsylvania political scientist Ian Lustick has argued, the pro-Israel organizations have constituted a “vigilante” force, which has made it “increasingly difficult to criticize Israel without fear of lawsuits, accusations of antisemitism, demands for political balance in staging of events, blacklisting of participants, or other forms of personal or institutional harassment.”

This report signals that an atmosphere of repression and recrimination related to discourse and activism around Israel/Palestine is ubiquitous and insidious and should be unacceptable in a democratic society.

To download a copy of the full report, visit ijvcanada.org/unveilingthechillyclimate.

– Courtesy Independent Jewish Voices Vancouver

Israel’s best revenge

In an email briefing this week, the English-language news platform Times of Israel declared: “UN releases 2nd damning report on Israel; real estate soars.”

These were two unrelated stories. The United Nations had unveiled another in its persistent condemnations of the Jewish state and, on a completely different issue, it reported that Israeli housing prices have spiked 19% this year over last – the largest jump in recorded history.

As curious as this combination of stories was, it could hardly compete with an adjacent mashup about two of Israel’s leading far-right politicians, Bezalel Smotrich and Itamar Ben-Gvir, the latter of whom, in an apparent effort at humanizing himself, appeared on a cooking program: “Ben-Gvir stuffs peppers and Smotrich proposes legal reforms.”

But, returning to the first items. The connection between UN condemnation of Israel and soaring real estate prices in Israel may be remote but perhaps not random. In any country, high real estate prices indicate a demand for housing that is larger than the supply, a situation due in part to rising economic prosperity (which is not generally shared equally, it should be said, and is too complex to fully discuss in this space).

The larger issues, for our purposes, are the curious parallels between this fact and the accompanying story, about yet another of the UN’s broadsides against Israel. Late last week, a report by the United Nations Independent International Commission of Inquiry on the Occupied Palestinian Territory declared that Israel’s occupation of the West Bank is illegal. Not a surprise considering the commission’s mandate, to say the least. Leaving aside whatever legitimacy that investment of resources may or may not have on the ground, it is safe to say it will have little impact on most Israelis beyond a déjà vu. UN condemnations against Israel come fast and furious.

In their 2009 book Start-up Nation: The Story of Israel’s Economic Miracle, Dan Senor and Saul Singer argue that Israel’s economic miracle is not despite the external and internal challenges the country and its people have faced but, to a large extent, because of them. Political and economic isolation bred a degree of self-sufficiency. Military and terrorist threats demand enormous investments, which have had the largely unintended consequence of building a range of high-tech and other industry sectors. The imposition on young adults just out of high school with life-and-death decision-making authority accounts in part for the risk-taking that drives Israel’s entrepreneurship.

On a daily basis, Israelis may not make the connection between their broad economic successes and the incessant rhetorical assaults it receives from the UN and self-appointed arbiters of righteousness worldwide. Even in times of war and other existential threats, Israelis have traditionally continued building their individual and collective futures. What is more, they are consistently ranked in surveys and studies as among the world’s happiest people.

Fighting inflation and inequality, resolving the ongoing conflict, addressing infringements of human rights and all of the other challenges facing Israel must be addressed – and, in the seemingly endless successions of national elections the country is mired, there is no shortage of inventive and outlandish suggestions for resolving every issue.

There is a saying: living well is the best revenge. The world, including the world’s ostensible parliament, can rail all it likes. We should not ignore criticism. But we should celebrate the achievements that others ignore or defame. The arrows aimed at Israel, whether we or the slings that shot them like it or not, seem to strengthen rather than weaken the resolve of its people.

Extremism not helpful

Over the Labour Day weekend, while many Canadians were soaking up the declining rays of summer or doing last-minute back-to-school shopping, Middle East politics eclipsed everything else – well, for those of us who track these things closely, which, it turns out includes Jagmeet Singh, leader of Canada’s New Democratic Party.

In fairness, it is not clear when Singh hit send on an email that made the rounds over the holiday weekend. But the contents led the Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs to send out not one but two urgent emails on the issue, both of which included the word “outraged” in the subject line.

And “outrage” is a fair reaction to the contents of Singh’s missive.

“We believe Israel’s illegal occupation of the Palestinian territories is at the centre of the challenges facing the Palestinian and Israeli people,” wrote Singh. This essentialist view ignores the reality that the occupation continues due to a complex interplay between anti-Israel terrorism, a lack of political will, and intractability around a two-state solution or some other coexistence plan that would lead to greater peace, which includes a lack of willingness to coexist from factions on both sides of the conflict.

“We all want to see a future where Israelis and Palestinians can live side by side, in peace,” Singh writes. But then he goes on to outline a list of grievances that places responsibility only on Israelis and which, therefore, is unlikely to do anything to realize such a future.

The demands include that the Canadian government increase funding to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency, “which supports Palestinian refugees.” The letter makes no reference to the controversial nature of UNRWA’s definition of refugees, which has refugee status passing down generations, thereby continually increasing their number, perpetuating rather than ameliorating the problem. Nor does the NDP letter mention the organization’s Palestinian education curriculum, which contains antisemitic elements that directly impede any progress towards peace in the region; allegations of corruption and mismanagement of the agency; and even UNWRA’s witting or unwitting aid of the terrorist group Hamas, with tunnels reportedly being found under UNRWA schools and rockets stored on their premises. Instead, the letter calls on Canada to “condemn the Israeli government’s attacks on civil society in Israel and Palestine, including the recent designation of six Palestinian human rights groups as ‘terrorist.’”

There are wishes for “peace in Israel and Palestine” in the NDP letter, but the lack of peace is blamed solely on one side, without acknowledging the violence and harms inflicted on Israelis. The fundamental fact of the issue is that no blatantly one-sided position will make things better for either Palestinians or Israelis and any position that places all the blame on one side will not lead to a resolution. Such a stance will only perpetuate conflict. Peace and coexistence in that region will depend on compromise on both sides.

In the larger scheme of world events, an imbalanced missive from the leader of a Canadian political party is largely irrelevant. Singh’s catalogue of blame will move the dial in Israel and Palestine not an inch. What it does is inflame the issue here at home and reinforce the trend in Canadian politics that sees this issue as a political football. At the same time as there are legitimate and important critiques of Israel’s behaviour and treatment of Palestinians, particularly those under occupation, Jewish self-determination should not be anyone’s campaign talking point.

There is a lesson here for those who support Israel, too. There is a strain that sees Israel supporters as more moral, more fair and more realistic than the activists who march against “apartheid,” “genocide” and what Palestinian leader Mahmoud Abbas recently called “50 holocausts” against Palestinians. However, the incessant and dishonourable contesting of the very existence of Palestinian people – if you haven’t seen it, you’re not on Jewish social media – does nothing to advance the cause of Jewish self-determination or end the human suffering or move anyone towards peace.

Extremism is not a Canadian value, nor a Jewish one – and it will not result in an end to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict. Nor will it solve any of the countless challenges we are facing around the world. We need to resist the attraction of simplistic solutions to complex human problems. We need to do, think and behave better. And we need to demand that our leaders to do so, as well.