ישראלים רבים לאור אירועי השבעה באוקטובר הפכו להיות פסימים ובצדק. הם לא רואים שום תמונה אופטימית באופק ופתרונות לסיום המשבר הבלתי נגמר
האחראי הישיר למשבר בישראל הוא ראש הממשלה בנימין נתניהו, שעושה הכל כדי להמשיך בתפקידו ולא מעניין אותו המחיר הכבד לכך. נתניהו כיום הוא אחד המנהיגים השנואים בעולם, כולל במרבית מדינות המערב וכן בישראל. היום רבים מבינים מיהו האיש, כיצד הוא פועל ומה האינטרסים שלו. מצער שהשבעה באוקטובר האירו בצורה רבה עד כמה ישראל לא היתה מוכנה, ועד כמה נתניהו מסוכן ולא יקח אחריות על מעשיו ומחדליו הרבים
בישראל העדיפו להגן על ההתנחלויות בשטחים הכבושים ואף לעבות אותן במקום להגן על גבולות המדינה. העדיפות ניתנה למתנחלים על חשבון תושבי ישראל. זו הקונספציה שנתניהו הוביל וזה מחדל אדיר שהוא לא יוכל להימלט ממנו
יש לא מעט שנוטים להעריץ מנהיגים שזה מנהג לא בריא שיכול להפוך למסוכן, כאשר מדובר באישים כמו נתניהו ודונלד טראמפ. הערצה לנתניהו לאורך השנים הרבות שבה הוא מעורב בפוליטיקה הישראלית, הפכה את תומכיו לעיוורים ואת נתניהו לנוכל. אהוד אולמרט נכנס לכלא על עבירות פחותות בהרבה מאלה של נתניהו, שמתכחש להן כמובן. נתניהו המכהן בתפקידוכשבעה עשרה שנים צבר עבירות רבות בתחומים שונים. הוא הפך לאיש עשיר, הוא מחזיק במספר נכסים וחשבונות בנק מנופחים. נתניהו ומשפחתו חיים ברמת חיים גבוהה והחשבונות מוטלים על משלם המיסים הישראלי
לאור שנותיו בפוליטיקה הבויל נתניהו מהלכים מסוכנים ביותר. הוא הוביל את ההסתה הרבתי שהביאה לרצח של יצחק רבין, הוא הוביל תוכניות רבות להרחבת והוספת ההתנחלויות בשטחים שפוגעות קשות בעתיד של ישראל והפלסטינים. הוא לחץ על טראמפ לבטל את הסכם הגרעין עם איראן – כאשר המומחים לנושאי ביטחון בישראל טוענים שמדובר במהלך שגוי ומסוכן לישראל. נתניהו גם איפשר העברת כסף רב מקטאר לחמאס, ששימש לחימושו בממדים אדירים. עדיין לא ברור האם לנתניהו היה גם רווח אישי מהעברות כספים אלה
נתניהו בימי שלטונו – דאג במדיניות ההפרד ומשול שלו כמו דיקטטורים – ליצור וללבות שנאת אחים בתוך ישראל. המצב היום בחברה הישראלית הוא כה חמור שכבר אי אפשר לגשר על הפערים בין תומכי נתניהו למתנגדיו. התעמולה השיקרית המופצת על ידיי נתניהו, בנו יאיר ומקורבים אחרים ומכונה “מכונת הרעל” רק מוסיפה שמן רותח לסכסוך הפנימי בישראל. הגיעו הדברים לידי אבסורד כאשר תומכי נתניהו מאשימים את משפחות החטופים כאילו הן שייכים לשמאל. לא מעט משפחות החטופים הוכו ואויימו על ידי תומכי נתניהו. ומה תומכיו אומרים לישראלים יוצאי אירופה: תחזרו לאירופה כדי שהיטלר יחסל אתכם. דוגמאות אלה מוכיחות שמאז שנתניהו השתלט על ישראל, המדינה החלה להתפרק והתהליך המדאיג הזה רק מתעצם
תומכי נתניהו מעריצים דמות בעייתית לא פחות והיא טראמפ. הם מאמינים כי רק טראמפ ידאג לישראל. לעומתו המועמדת השנייה לנשיאות בארה”ב, קמלה האריס, לא תדאג לישראל. הישראלים התומכים בטראמפ עיוורים למעשיו המסוכנים ורצונו להפוך לדיקטטור. כידוע הישראלים ונתניהו בראשם לא מסתכלים על התמונה הכוללת, אלה רק על היום ומחר. מבחינתם טראמפ יפתור את הבעיות של ישראל היום ומחר. הם לא קולטים עד כמה טראמפ מסוכן לארה”ב ולמערב, ולכן גם לישראל. אם טראמפ יחזור לשלטון יחליש הדבר את ארה”ב וזה בדיוק מה שרוצים ברוסיה ובסין. בישראל כיוון שלא חושבים על העתיד לא מבינים עד כמה ארה”ב חלשה תחליש גם את ישראל
Samidoun was an organizer of an Oct. 7 rally celebrating Hamas’s terror attacks on Israel ayear earlier. Protesters tried to burn the Canadian flag while shouting that Israel should burn. They also chanted “death to” Canada, the United States and Israel. (screenshot Global News)
Last week, the Government of Canada designated Samidoun, a not-for-profit corporation based in Canada, as a terrorist entity under the Criminal Code. At the same time, the United States Department of the Treasury announced Samidoun is now a “specially designated global terrorist group.”
Also known as the Palestinian Prisoner Solidarity Network, Samidoun has close ties to the Popular Front for the Liberation of Palestine (PFLP), which has been designated by Canada and other countries as a terrorist group for many years.
At rallies in Vancouver and throughout Canada, Samidoun’s international coordinator, Charlotte Kates, has expressed open support for the Oct. 7 attacks on Israel. On the one-year anniversary of the attacks, she led a rally where chants of “death to Canada, death to the United States and death to Israel” were heard. Videos show rally participants setting fire to the Canadian flag, while shouting “Israel, burn, burn,” among other things.
“We’re very thankful for today’s decision by the Government of Canada to designate Samidoun as a terrorist entity under the Criminal Code,” said Nico Slobinsky, vice-president, Pacific Region, Centre for Israel and Jewish Affairs (CIJA). “For the past year, they’ve organized some of the most vicious protests in Canada, openly and explicitly celebrating the Oct. 7 attacks and, just last week, they were chanting ‘we are Hamas, we are Hezbollah’ at their rally.”
Kates was arrested after an April 26 rally, at which she called the Oct. 7 terrorist attacks “heroic and brave” and led chants of “Long live Oct. 7.” The conditions of her release order – which prohibited her participation or attendance at any protests, rallies or assemblies for a period of six months – expired Oct. 8 because the Crown had yet to file charges against her.
Slobinsky said CIJA called for the BC Prosecution Service (BCPS) to charge Kates under hate speech laws four months ago, so that she face the full consequences of her actions for glorifying terrorism. But just how long it will take for the BCPS to make a decision is unknown.
Damienne Darby, communications counsel for the BCPS, confirmed that the BCPS had received a Report to Crown Counsel in relation to Kates. “We are reviewing it for charge assessment, and I am unable to provide a timeline for completion,” she wrote in an email, declining to provide further comment.
In a statement, Shimon Koffler Fogel, president and chief executive officer of CIJA, said, “Listing the group as a terrorist entity means they will no longer be able to use our streets as a platform to incite hate and division against the Jewish community; this is a significant step toward ensuring the safety and security of Canada’s Jews.”
But, while the designation as a terrorist group will affect Samidoun’s ability to fundraise, recruit and travel, it is unclear whether it will affect their ability to hold rallies and further promulgate hatred.
CIJA has asked the federal government to re-examine whether Kates and her husband, Khaled Barakat, obtained Canadian citizenship fraudulently by failing to fully disclose their affiliation with the PFLP. The United States has put Barakat on a terrorism watch list for his connections with the PFLP.
Public Safety Canada notes that one of the consequences of being listed as a terrorist organization is that the entity’s property can be seized or forfeited. Banks and brokerages are required to report that entity’s property and cannot allow the entity to access their property. It’s an offence for people to knowingly participate in or contribute to the activity of a terrorist group. Including Samidoun, there are now 78 terrorist entities listed under the Criminal Code, according to Public Safety Canada.
This terrorist designation is long overdue, said Rabbi Jonathan Infeld, chair of the Rabbinical Association of Vancouver. “To have an organization that creates chaos, hatred and threatens the Jewish community operating freely in Vancouver and Canada was terrible,” he said. “When Samidoun burned the Canadian flag and called for the destruction of the US and Canada on Oct. 7, they demonstrated who they truly are. I hope this decision will give the Canadian government and the police the ability to prevent Samidoun from operating in the manner they have and to prosecute.”
Lauren Kramer, an award-winning writer and editor, lives in Richmond.
(Editor’s Note: For the CJN Daily podcast host Ellin Bessner’s conversation with NGO Monitor’s Gerald Steinberg about Samidoun’s terror links and more, click here.)
In Vancouver, on the evening of Nov. 10, the Canadian Shaare Zedek Hospital Foundation will present Voices of Resilience, featuring Prof. Ofer Merin, director general of Shaare Zedek Medical Centre, and Glenn Cohen, former Mossad psychologist and hostage negotiator. Part of a national tour, the event aims to shed light on the experiences and insights following the tragic events of Oct. 7, 2023.
Merin completed his fellowship in adult cardiac surgery at Sunnybrook Hospital in Toronto. Upon returning to Israel, he became a pivotal member of the Shaare Zedek team, where he now serves as director general. A colonel in the Israel Defence Forces, Merin has led numerous humanitarian efforts and, as of Oct. 7, 2023, has headed a medical intelligence committee that plays a role in assessing the hostage situation in Gaza.
Cohen has served as an air force pilot, Mossad officer, hostage negotiator and special forces psychologist for more than 30 years. Retiring with the rank of colonel and chief of psychology in Mossad, he now trains organizations worldwide using a methodology he developed. During the war that followed Oct. 7, Cohen has served more than 100 days to date in reserve duty, providing critical debriefing for the released hostages.
All proceeds from Voices of Resilience will go to the Healing Minds Campaign, which focuses on extending the mental health support available at Shaare Zedek Medical Centre. This initiative provides specialized training in therapy, post-traumatic stress disorder counseling, psychotherapy and other services for those affected by the Oct. 7 attacks. The centre hopes to increase their mental health team from 14 to 42 professionals to meet the overwhelming demand, an increase that would require $1.6 million Cdn for medical and para-medical training, as well as ongoing staffing costs.
To date, Shaare Zedek has treated more than 700 individuals, primarily IDF soldiers, with injuries ranging from minor to life-threatening. Nearly every patient presents signs of mental trauma, whether immediately or in the weeks following hospitalization. Many young patients have been exposed to traumatic battlefield conditions and the loss of life. Even those who initially report limited emotional impact often show symptoms later. To address this, Shaare Zedek has created a comprehensive emotional trauma care service. Every patient admitted for war-related injuries is evaluated by the psychiatry team, they are monitored throughout their stay and receive counseling prior to discharge, with follow-up care recommendations.
To attend Voices of Resilience in Vancouver on Nov. 10, 7 p.m., visit linktr.ee/voicesofresilience2024. Tickets are $18 ($72 for the VIP meet-and-greet). The location will be provided to registrants closer to the event date.
– Courtesy Canadian Shaare Zedek Hospital Foundation
ישראל נמצאת בסכנה קיומית מהיום שהתחלתי לנשום לפני למעלה משישים וחמש שנים ואני לא אומר זאת כדי להפחית מחומרת העניין. מצער מאוד שחבורת פושעים בלתי אנושית של החמאס וחבריהם “הזכירו” שוב לישראלים בשבעה באוקטובר, כי הם גרים באזור מסוכן ביותר. ישראל ישנה והישראלים כהרגלם התעלמו מכל התרעה אפשרית לחדירה כה קשה כפי שאירעה באוקטובר
פרופ’ ישעיהו ליבוביץ אמר לאחר כיבוש השטחים כתוצאה ממלחמת ששת הימים שנכפתה על ישראל, כי זהו דבר חמור שיגרום נזק גדול לישראל, ישחית את המדינה ואולי אף יביא לקיצה. כל יום מאז התבגרותי הרגשתי עד כמה דבריו החמורים של פרופ’ ליבוביץ נכונים, ועד כמה הישראלים ברובם לא ראו שום בעייה בנושא החזקת השטחים הכבושים. להיפך: שטחים אלו יצרו גל הולך וגדל של תנועה משיחית של יהודים פנאטיים, שמאמינים בכל ליבם שאת השטחים הכבושים הם קיבלו מאלוהים ומצווה עליהם להתיישב בהם. תנועה משיחית מסוכנת זו שמספר תומכיה גדל משמעותית כל שנה, ממשיכה במלאכת בניית התנחלויות והרחבתן בשטחים, תוך שמתקבלות תמיכה ועידוד רב ממשלות נתניהו השונות. בנימין נתניהו ראש הממשלה הנצחי של ישראל שיושב על כיסא המלך כבר כשבעה עשרה שנים, מיישם את תפיסתו ותפיסת אביו – שיש ליישב יהודים בכל ארץ ישראל, כולל ובעיקר בשטחים הכבושים. תפיסה זו שמקובלת על ידי חלק נרחב מתושבי ישראל כיום, מונעת כל אפשרות של הקמת מדינה פלסטינית בשטחים שנכבשו. וכך גם נמנע מישראל לחיות בביטחון מלא תוך אפשרות של שלום עם מרבית מדינות ערב. מי שמתעלם מהבעייה הפלסטינית בעצם מתעלם מהאופציה היחידה לפתרון הסכסוך הארוך והנוראי הזה בין ישראל לשכנותיה. בין היהודים למרבית המוסלמים בעולם
הישראלים רוצים בדומה לאזרחי מרבית המדינות בעולם לבלות, לטוס לחו”ל וליהנות מהזריחות ומהשקיעות כאחד. אך הישראלים מעדיפים לשכוח כי מי שרוצה להחזיק בשטחים של עם אחר לא יכול לחיות חיים אזרחיים רגילים, אלא חיים מלאים בצבא, ביטחון, כוננות והתרעות. כאמור מחבלי החאמאס הוכיחו לישראלים מה קורה שישנים באזור מסוכן זה
טעה מי חשב שהחזרת רצועת עשה לתושביה יפתרו כל בעיותיה של ישראל. אי אפשר להפריד בין תושבי הרצועה לבין התושבים הפלסטינים בשטחים הכבושים. לא היה שקט באזור אחד אם לא יהיה שקט גם באזור השני. ועובדה היא שהמלחה בעזה מעוררת את הפלסטינים להתעמת עם צה”ל והישראלים ופיגועי הטרור הולכים גדלים מאז באוקטובר
כשאומרים לישראלים כי לא בטוח לגור בישראל הם עונים כמעט אוטומטית כי לא בטוח לישראלים ויהודים לגור בשום מקום אחר בעולם. האם פעם אחת שאלו תושבי ישראל מדוע אחיהם בגולה לא בטוחים? השנאה והאנטישמיות הולכות וגדלות משמעותית מאז השבעה באוקטובר? האם יש שמבינים כי מה שצה”ל עושה ברצועת עזה הוא נוראי – גם לאחר המאורעות הקשים ביותר שאירעו בשבעה באוקטובר? האם זה מובן שהנקמה צריכה לבוא בכל הכוח, ללא הפסקה ולהביא למותם של אלפי פלסטינים חפים מפשע בעזה? האם בישראל מבינים שהתוצאות הקשות של המלחמה בעזה יגרמו נזק קשה מאוד למדינה ולישראלים והיהודים בחו”ל
בישראל לא אוהבים לראות את התמונה הכוללת ולחשוב על העתיד. קל יותר להתנהל מהרגע להרגע, ללא תכנון וללא ארגון. נתניהו מנהל את המלחמה הקשה הזו בעזה שלא מביאה לעתיד טוב יותר בישראל, בדיוק כמו שהוא נכשל בהגנה על גבולותיה של המדינה. נתניהו רק חושב על נתניהו ועל רצונו להמשיך ולשלוט על המדינה שהוא הורס
Several hundred held vigil on the Burrard Street Bridge at sundown Oct. 6. Another vigil took place at the Vancouver Art Gallery at the same time. (photo by Pat Johnson)
The youngest victim of the Oct. 7 pogrom was born and died that day.
At a moving ceremony at Schara Tzedeck Synagogue Monday night, more than 1,400 Jewish community members and allies came together to mark the anniversary of the worst terror attacks in Israel’s history. Another 700 watched a livestream online.
Rabbi Philip Gibbs of West Vancouver’s Congregation Har El shared the story of the youngest victim.
At 5:30 a.m., Sujood Abu Karinat, a Bedouin Israeli, went into labour. Her husband Triffy began driving them to the hospital, but sirens also began.
“Two vans appeared and tried to box them in,” said Gibbs. Triffy was able to swerve and avoid the ambush but a bullet pierced Sujood’s belly.
“Though they were able to get away, soon the car stalled before an intersection and they were able to ask for some help from some of the other local Bedouins,” he said. “But, again, the white van appeared and terrorists fired, ignoring their pleas in Arabic to leave them alone and, again, Sujood received another bullet in the stomach.”
When they finally arrived at the hospital, doctors detected a fetal heartbeat. The bullets had pierced the baby’s leg and, in the process, protected Sujood’s vital organs. The baby was successfully delivered and bandaged.
“After hearing this news, Sujood fell back asleep to recover. But, that evening, the baby passed away,” said Gibbs.
“Sujood never saw her daughter, unable to bear the sight of her dead firstborn.”
Schara Tzedeck’s Rabbi Andrew Rosenblatt, who introduced the program and speakers, contextualized the commemoration as an opportunity to “preserve names and to preserve stories.”
In addition, he said, the community gathers to ensure that people do not ignore a world “where children are ripped from their parents’ arms, where children and the aged are taken hostage, where young women are slaughtered and dragged through the streets to be spit upon by a jeering public.”
Rabbi Dan Moskovitz of Temple Sholom spoke of Vivian Silver, the Winnipeg-born-and-raised peace activist whose burned bones were found in her safe room. World media eulogized Silver, a cofounder of the 50,000-member Women Wage Peace, as an irrepressible force and one of Israel’s best-known advocates for peace.
Jason Rivers remembered his cousin, Adi Vital-Kaploun, another Canadian-Israeli who was killed on Oct. 7. Vital-Kaploun received the highest marks ever attained at Ben-Gurion University, he said, and, on Oct. 7, a lab was named in her honour.
“If you believe in miracles, they sometimes do happen,” said Rivers. While Adi was murdered, her 3-year-old, Negev, and 6-month-old, Eshel, were inexplicably released. Adi was later found by the Israel Defence Forces – she had been killed by multiple bullets and her body booby-trapped with grenades.
“She was identified by her wedding ring,” said Rivers.
Daphna Kedem, who has organized weekly rallies at the Vancouver Art Gallery since the hours after the attack, said, “The past year has been unbearable.”
She said, “It is inconceivable that 101 hostages, our loved ones, our family, our members, our children, our parents, our grandparents, remain captive in the hands of the terror organization Hamas, held in appalling conditions.”
The local community’s rabbis and cantors chanted the prayer for hostages.
Lana Marks Pulver, chair of the board of the Jewish Federation of Greater Vancouver, and Ezra Shanken, Federation’s chief executive officer, spoke of the connections between Israel and diaspora Jews.
Pulver remembered Ben Mizrachi, the young Vancouver medic who died heroically at the Nova music festival when he returned to help a friend who had been shot. He had earned the nickname “savta” from friends, Hebrew for “grandma,” because he was always helping and caring for others. Shanken noted that a plaque in Mizrachi’s honour was unveiled earlier that day at his alma mater, King David High School, and that Federation has nominated Mizrachi for Canada’s highest civilian decoration for heroism. At Schara Tzedeck, a Torah scroll is being refurbished in his memory.
Eli Cohen, a friend of Ben Mizrachi and who accompanied the chevra kadisha to identify Mizrachi’s body, recited the Kaddish in his memory.
Flavia Markman, one of the organizers of the vigils that take place on Vancouver bridges, shared the story of Aner Shapira.
Shapira, a member of the IDF’s elite Nahal Brigade, was attending the Nova music festival and he took shelter with a group of others. He was the last to enter the shelter and told the others he was in Nahal; he assured them the military would be there soon to rescue them. Across several heroic minutes that were caught by a car’s dashcam and are available online, Hamas shot bullets and threw grenades into the shelter.
“You can see,” Markman said of the video, “after the terrorists threw the grenades into the shelter, Aner threw them back out. One, two, three, four times, five, six, seven.…”
The eighth grenade exploded in his hand, killing him.
“At least seven people who were hiding in the shelter with Shapira survived the attack,” Markman said. One of them called Shapira an angel who saved their lives. Israeli poet Zur Erlich has written a tribute to Shapira, likening the eight grenades to the eight candles on the Hanukkah menorah.
Rabbi Carey Brown of Temple Sholom shared the story of Capt. Shir Eilat, a 20-year-old Combat Intelligence Corps commander who died alongside 14 of her female comrades at Nahal Oz surveillance outpost. Five women from her unit were taken hostage to Gaza.
“Shir was a hero in her final moments, in an unbelievable manner,” according to survivors who were there, said Brown. “Shir stayed calm, worried about everyone, protected them, and calmed them down. She put herself aside to be a presence of safety for them.”
Rabbi Philip Bregman, rabbi emeritus of Temple Sholom, spoke of the 1,000 people he and his wife Cathy, escorted to Israel over their 33 years of service to the temple. In Israel, he said, they would pay for meals of IDF soldiers and the grateful but baffled uniformed young people would ask, Why? Bregman said it was impossible for relatively safe Canadian Jews to adequately thank Israeli soldiers for defending their people.
Rabbi Susan Tendler of Beth Tikvah noted that there were at least 1,200 people in the sanctuary – the approximate number of people murdered on Oct. 7. Each attendee had been handed a card with a victim’s name and, often, a photograph. People stood at different times, quietly reciting the prayer and invoking the name of “their” martyr while musician Eric Wilson played cello.
Rabbi Hannah Dresner of Or Shalom reflected on the El Moleh Rachamim prayer and presented an interpretation of the prayer in English before Cantor Yaacov Orzech chanted the traditional version. Her Or Shalom colleague, Rabbi Arik Labowitz, led the congregation in Oseh Shalom, the prayer for peace.
“Perhaps, like many of you, it’s been difficult to say the Oseh Shalom this past year knowing that peace and security can sometimes be at odds with each other,” said Labowitz. “Yet the hope for peace is not shaped by our feelings about the present situation and about the history behind it. The hope for peace is our moral imperative. It is the most essential prayer of our people.… May we never give up hope and may we work toward that peace in the name of those we have lost and for the sake of those who are yet to be born.”
Rabbi Jonathan Infield of Beth Israel, and head of the Rabbincal Association of Vancouver, reflected on the Zionist and Israeli anthem “Hatikvah” (“The Hope”), which was adopted at the 18th Zionist conference in Prague, in 1933 – the “chai” conference, in the year the Nazis came to power in Germany. He spoke of his hope that the grandchildren of the current generation would never have to attend a ceremony for victims of terrorism.
The Monday event was attended by many elected officials from all levels of government.
On Sept. 28, Temple Sholom unveiled a new group exhibition in its gallery. “This is not a regular art show,” curator Rina Vizer told the Independent. “It is a commemoration of Oct. 7, of its hope and memories.”
Vizer has wanted to organize a show that would act as a fundraiser since the horrific terror attack on Israel last year.
“It has been the theme of my art from the moment I heard about the attack. I couldn’t process it in any other way than through my painting,” she said. “Last year, in September, we couldn’t even imagine that such an atrocity was possible. I wanted the other artists to do the same, to express what was beyond words through their paintings and share it with viewers.”
At first, she contemplated the Zack Gallery as a venue but it had a schedule to maintain, and its shows were booked well in advance. “Then I discussed with our rabbi some other art installation, and I asked him: ‘What about a show commemorating Oct. 7?’ And he agreed that it was a great idea to reflect on this calamity through art.”
The timeline to find other contributors was very tight. “I started the process at the end of August,” she said. “My only condition [to the artists] was: it had to be new art, created as a reaction to Oct. 7. Nothing old would work.”
Vizer contacted several people she knew personally, including Vivienne Davicioni, Sidi Schaffer and Glenda Leznoff. “I’ve also seen the art of Olga Campbell, and I had heard about Zohar Hagbi and her intuitive art studio. I was sure both of them would be a good fit for this show. The Zack Gallery director, Hope [Forstenzer], recommended Brian Gleckman, who agreed to participate. In all, we have seven Vancouver artists in this show.”
Vizer and Hagbi were born in Israel, Gleckman hails from the United States, Schaffer was born in Romania, Campbell in Iran, Davicioni in South Africa and Leznoff in Canada. Regardless of their countries of origin, all of them dedicated their artwork for this show to Israel, and all of the pieces reflect the traumatic impacts of Oct. 7.
Vizer’s paintings are not large, but they pack a punch. She signs her art as Rina Lederer-Vizer. “Lederer is my family name,” she explained. “But I only have one sister. When we go, the name will disappear. This way, I hope to keep it a bit longer.” Her painting “HaTikvah” is full of hope and despair in equal measure. A woman gazes up, her palms together in prayer, but her eyes are sad, her expression stark. Is she praying for the hostages’ return? Is she a hostage herself?
Another of her paintings, similar at first glance, is called “101 Days of Awe.” The woman in the foreground is from the diaspora, but her solidarity with the suffering in Israel is unmistakable. Like the figure in her painting, Vizer stalwartly expresses her solidarity with Israel.
“I have been attending the ‘Bring Them Home’ rallies every Sunday since last October,” she said. “We meet at the Vancouver Art Gallery at 2 o’clock. At first, there were thousands of people there each week. Now, it is a hundred or so, but I go.”
At one of the rallies, Vizer carried a banner with the name and image of one of the hostages, Carmel Gat, a therapist from Tel Aviv. Vizer was so moved by Gat’s plight she used the portrait at her family seder. “I was shocked and angry when I learned on Sept. 1 that Gat was executed in a tunnel,” she said. That was when she painted “Light in Tunnel.” There are darkness and death in those tunnels, but, contends Vizer, light always comes after darkness.
Like Vizer, Campbell’s paintings are mostly figurative. “I See You” depicts a face, fearful and anxious. There is a catastrophe unfolding in front of this person, and they are helpless to prevent it. Another of Campbell’s paintings, a number of shadowed figures on a foggy background, bears a fateful title: “I Didn’t Get a Chance to Say Goodbye.” Campbell’s third painting, a black and white collage reminiscent of an old-fashioned newspaper, has an even more explicit title: “October 7.”
The same title applies to one of Schaffer’s paintings. In a short email exchange with the Independent, she said about that horrible day: “The event had and still is impacting me very much. Early every morning, the first thing I do is turn on the TV to hear what’s happening in Israel. I am a child survivor of the Holocaust, and I hoped nothing like that would happen again, but the reality of today is different.”
Schaffer has two paintings in the show, and she explained her symbolism. “The small one is titled ‘October 7.’ It’s a collage. I have done it this year, not long ago. You can see prayer hands and a memory candle for those we lost. There is a child’s wooden rocking horse left without a child. In one of the videos after the horror, I saw a house totally destroyed. Only this horse alone remained on the front lawn.
“The second work is bigger and is titled ‘The Phoenix Reborn from Ashes.’ I worked on it for a few years, but, this year, inspired by the October tragedy, I finished it. I feel it gives hope of renewal, of better days to come, of freedom and joy.”
Leznoff, who is also a writer, talked about her experience joining this show. “I was invited to participate by Rina Vizer, who I met about a decade ago at Israeli dancing. This year, I have been very active writing letters to governments and organizations about antisemitism in Canada since Oct. 7. I had an op-ed in the National Post last January, when two British Columbia theatres canceled the play The Runner. Rina knew me as both an artist and a writer. She knew I have been very moved by the events, both in Israel and in Canada, so she asked me to contribute works I’ve done in response to the war.”
Leznoff’s two pieces in the exhibit are titled “Shattered” and “Morning Light.”
“The first painting is a mixed media piece that uses black ink and paint, yellow paint, a photo, dried flowers from my garden, and charcoal. The painting is abstract, however, there is a sense of something explosive and raw with the black paint,” she said. “For me, the yellow is a sign of hope, and the falling flowers are in memory of the tragedy of the flower children at the music festival.
“The other piece,” she continued, “is connected to a poem I wrote called ‘Winter Light’ that accompanies the painting. The poem is framed with the painting, and it’s about how the hostages and soldiers are always on our minds, and we are not giving up. Ironically, although I am a published writer, I hardly ever write poetry. I think both abstract painting and poetry handle emotional issues that are sometimes difficult to convey in a straight narrative.”
The Memory and Hope exhibit will be displayed at Temple Sholom until Oct. 28. The art is for sale and all proceeds from the sales will go to Hostages and Missing Families Forum: Bring Them Home Now, and Magen David Adom in Israel.
Olga Livshin is a Vancouver freelance writer. She can be reached at [email protected].
In the late 1990s, the collective Jewish community organizations in North America acknowledged a crisis. What had been increasingly evident anecdotally was being confirmed by statistics, research, published works and commentary. Affiliation with Jewish communities and agencies was declining precipitously – to the extent that the very future of the Jewish community, by some estimates, was in doubt.
Assimilation, intermarriage and declining religious observance were seen as factors in this decline. Counterintuitively, the almost complete disappearance of systemic antisemitism and the sidelining of social antisemitism meant that this opposition force no longer had the pull it once did to enforce cohesion among North American Jews.
This realization, and the debate it launched, were among the reasons that Jewish federations, synagogues, Hillels and other agencies engaged in a redoubling of efforts to reach Jews where they are. For example, to destigmatize intermarriage and welcome mixed families, and to entice largely assimilated Jews into Jewish community centres and synagogues and Jewish spaces on campuses, through the development of innovative programs.
But the core “problem” facing Jews in this narrative – a decline in the defensive, if unifying, force of antisemitism in Western societies – took care of itself just three years later.
Conflict in the Middle East always results in a conflict over the conflict around the world. The launch of the Second Intifada, in September 2000, saw an upsurge in anti-Israel and antisemitic (not exactly the same; not unrelated) activities on campuses and elsewhere around the world.
By various measures, the first two decades of the 21st century saw some successes in terms of sustained engagement and growth in aspects of the community. This was a result of a confluence of events – the debate that began in earnest in the 1990s; the investment in outreach undertaken across the Jewish community; and, not at all incidentally, the rise in global antisemitism that coincided with the growing conflict in the Middle East.
Then came Oct. 7, 2023.
In response, early indications suggest, some Jews have prudently covered up Magen David necklaces, put caps over their kippot and otherwise reduced their visibility in public. This is a superficial response, but it is based on reasonable principles of safety.
Here is what Jews overwhelmingly have not done: abandoned Judaism and the broader Jewish identity that draws the hostility of haters.
On the contrary. Synagogues, Jewish advocacy organizations, Hillels and other Jewish groups are seeing spikes in engagement unknown in recent memory.
Many Jews whose lives have been comfortably lived with only tangential connections to the broader Jewish peoplehood found themselves suddenly and profoundly isolated in their various communities after Oct. 7. Some Jews who had concluded that they did not need the benefits of collective engagement found, perhaps to their dismay, that they do.
This fact (or its observation) should not be seen as an “I told you so.” It is merely a recognition that antisemitism exists and, throughout history, it has been a cyclical phenomenon that rises and falls in waves.
Let us not pretend that there are silver linings in the horrors we have experienced collectively in the past year. No one would choose this trade-off. What we are suggesting is that, in the face of this new reality, Jews are doing what Jews have always done: returned to the teachings, core values and simple togetherness that have sustained our people and traditions for millennia, realizing, as generations before have done, that these ancient assets are no less valuable today than in eras past.
We cannot foresee the future. Things may get worse before they get better. But when this cycle finally recedes, we hope we will be a stronger people. Those who had dismissed their own parents’ warnings around cyclical bigotry are conveying to their own kids the lessons they had disdained. There are reports of record synagogue attendance at High Holiday services this year, established and new ad hoc advocacy programs and organizations have been enriched by an influx of people and talent. Innovative organizations have popped up to support many non-affiliated or disaffected Jews in spiritual exploration, with racialized identities, or those who want to advocate for peace and dialogue outside of established communal structures. On campuses, Jewish students are learning advocacy and skills that will empower our community for decades to come.
This is not, to be clear, an instance of Jewishness being defined by negatives, driven by its opposites. It is a constructive, positive, heartening phenomenon in which people who did not even know that they needed community reach out, find one and, in the process, empower both themselves and the larger people.
Again, this is not a silver lining in a terrible time. This is simply an ancient lesson learned anew.
Rabbi Jonathan Infeld, left, in conversation with Thomas Hand at Congregation Beth Israel. (Adele Lewin Photography)
Emily Hand was a healthy 8-year-old girl with chubby cheeks on Oct. 7, 2023, when she was abducted by Hamas terrorists from a sleepover at a friend’s home on Kibbutz Be’eri. When she was released, 50 days later, she was a pale, gaunt 9-year-old who would not speak above the faintest whisper.
Emily and her dad, Thomas Hand, were in Vancouver this month, where the father was part of Congregation Beth Israel’s Selichot program Sept. 28. He spoke with the Independent in advance of the conversation he had with Rabbi Jonathan Infeld at the synagogue.
On Oct. 7 last year, Emily was at the home of her friend Hila Rotem-Shoshani. After the terrorists invaded the kibbutz and the murderous rampage subsided, Thomas Hand had no idea where his daughter was. It was almost midnight that evening when the Israel Defence Forces made it to Be’eri and rescued the survivors. In the chaos of the moment, Hand was told that his daughter was dead.
His immediate response was relief.
“It’s a terrible thing to say,” said Hand, “but I was more relieved and at peace that she was at peace and not being terrorized or beaten or threatened or in the hands of the Hamas.”
Eventually, it would become known that, of Be’eri’s approximately 1,100 residents, about 100 were murdered and about 50 taken hostage to Gaza. Be’eri’s surviving residents were removed to a location near the Dead Sea.
After a few days, Hand was informed that there was no evidence that Emily had been murdered. Her remains were not found and neither was any of her DNA. Hand has no explanation for how the misunderstanding occurred. His former wife, however, was found dead. (Emily’s mother died of cancer when Emily was 2.)
Now, Emily was officially missing.
A kibbutz member mentioned to Hand that they had seen Raaya Rotem “and her two children” led away at gunpoint. Hand knew that Rotem has only one daughter – Emily’s friend Hila – and that was his confirmation that Emily had been abducted alive.
“When they told me that she was actually alive, I was in the nightmare of not knowing what the hell was going to happen to her,” he said.
It is now known that Emily, Hila and Raaya were taken to Gaza, moved from location to location for the first couple of days and then held in a house along with several other hostages.
They lived in constant terror and were given very little food – a quarter of a pita a day sometimes, though they could smell the plentiful food their captors were cooking. Their accommodations were squalid, they were watched while using the toilet and warned to remain totally silent.
Doing what he could to raise global awareness of his daughter’s situation, as well as those of the other hostages, Hand launched a campaign, beginning with a trip to Ireland. Hand had made aliyah from Ireland and Emily, as a result, is a dual citizen. Hand then traveled to the United States and appeared on American TV, further humanizing the plight of the hostages and their families.
In November last year, during the temporary ceasefire, Emily was one of 105 hostages freed. She was released along with Hila. Hila’s mother Raaya was released a couple of days later.
Hand has no clear memories of their reunion, except that he would not allow himself to believe it would happen until they locked eyes.
“Anything could go wrong,” he said of the temporary ceasefire negotiations and promised release of the hostages. “Not until the very last second did I really believe that she was coming back, only when I saw her eyes.”
The joy of reunion was mixed with the harsh reality of what she had endured.
“She came back a different child,” Hand said, reflecting on her transformation from an innocent 8-year-old to a much-matured child shaped by trauma. The changes were most immediately noticeable physically. “Her cheekbones were sharp, her body much thinner.”
The effects of being threatened for more than two months to remain silent did not dissipate immediately either.
“When she came back, she was whispering, just moving her lips,” he said. “Her confidence was shattered.”
Since Emily’s release, the Hands – she has an older brother, 29, and a sister, 27 – have been working to help her recover. Therapies, including horse riding, dog training, theatre and singing, have played a crucial role in rebuilding her confidence. Regular psychological support in Tel Aviv, despite being a two-hour drive, has also been essential.
“She’s very strong, very resilient,” said her father.
The Hand family has relocated to a semi-permanent residence near Be’er Sheva while they await the reconstruction of Be’eri, to which he is determined to return.
“It’s been my home for over 30 years. I raised my eldest kids and Emily there,” he said. “It’s paradise. I want to go back home.”
Not all kibbutz members feel the pull to return, he acknowledged, though he estimates that 75% of the surviving members hope to rebuild there. Security, of course, is the foremost concern.
“The government needs to be different, and Hamas needs to be as weak as we can possibly make them because I need to feel safe in my own home before I would ever bring Emily back there again,” he said.
Reflecting on the international response to the crisis, Hand expressed frustration.
“Why is the UN or all the governments in the world not putting the pressure on Hamas to stop?” he asked.
To critics of Israel’s actions in Gaza, he is defiant. “We have to defend ourselves, and we will defend ourselves,” he said, “no matter what the world says or thinks.”
As Emily continues her recovery, Hand remains focused on a mission.
“Our primary concern now is getting the hostages back,” he said.
The medical centre at Kibbutz Be’eri, where at least five people were murdered Oct. 7, 2023. (photo by Melanie Preston)
I’m sitting in the dining hall at Kibbutz Be’eri, as people begin to enter for their Sunday lunch at 11:39 a.m. Sunday is like Monday here in Israel, the work week being Sunday through Thursday.
I’d never spent time on a kibbutz until now, except for a few days on my Birthright trip, which was my introduction to Israel. But now, I’m not only on a kibbutz, but on Kibbutz Be’eri, less than five kilometres away from Gaza, less than a year after the worst terror attack on Israeli soil.
On Oct. 12, 2023, in the Times of Israel article “Be’eri’s residents are gone, but their homes attest to the horrors they endured,” there was this incredible statement by Doron Spielman from the Israel Defence Forces’ Spokesperson’s Unit: “In the same way that Auschwitz is the symbol of the Holocaust, Be’eri is going to become the symbol of the [Oct. 7] massacre. The level of inhumanity of Hamas fighters surprised even us, Israelis who had no illusions about what Hamas is.”
And, yet, here I am, bearing witness as approximately 200 kibbutz members of the 1,100 total, have returned to live here. This does not include any children, due to the war next door in Gaza, and, of course, the traumatic memories of Oct. 7.
The majority of Be’eri’s residents have just been moved from the Dead Sea-area hotels that housed them for the past year to Kibbutz Hatzerim, 45 minutes away from Be’eri, a wonderful community who rushed to build a new section of homes to accommodate them. This is where the families with children are now settling in and where school has just begun.
But there are many residents, couples with grown children, or singles without children, who have chosen to return to Be’eri. At first, they only commuted here to work during the week, but they are now choosing to stay full-time. They are determined to be back at home, to establish new routines, care for the grounds, hang out at the local pub and prove to the world and to the enemies who tried to destroy them and their spirit that they have done anything but that. The spirit in Be’eri is hurting, yes, but it is also fierce, and it will not be extinguished.
Last week, Israel’s Channel 12 aired a new documentary showing the horror that took place here on Black Saturday. It included footage from cameras all over the kibbutz, and the camera they kept returning to was right outside the dining hall in which I am writing right now.
How different it was to watch this documentary, how odd to watch the silent camera footage, how chilling, when I knew the reality on Oct. 7 was sirens blaring the entire day, due to thousands of rockets overhead, and screams from those being attacked all over Be’eri, in neighbouring communities and all over the nearby desert and forests, as young adults ran to try and escape the Nova music festival, many meeting a violent death.
I watched the tick, tick, tick of the digital clock in the corner of the TV screen on this documentary as Hamas terrorists methodically made their way through offices and the kibbutz’s medical centre, where at least five workers were massacred, and homes and children’s rooms, trapping people together and smoking and burning people to death, shooting them if they attempted escape, like Narkis Hand was forced to do when an RPG hit her home, setting it instantly on fire.
Narkis Hand was Thomas Hand’s former wife and the mother of his older children, Natali and Aiden. Thomas Hand’s younger daughter, Emily, then age 8, was kidnapped by Hamas terrorists with her friend Hila and Hila’s mother Raaya for 50 days, though he was originally told she had been killed.
The first and only time I had been to Be’eri before now was last February, when I visited with a different resident, Adam Rapoport, whose older brother Yonatan was murdered at some point between “6:29 a.m. and the end of day,” noted the documentary, as the silent clock in the upper left-hand corner went tick, tick, tick on Oct. 7.
Like many others from these communities, Adam will never know exactly what happened to his brother that day, other than that he saved his kids’ lives by ordering them under the bed, where they would spend 11 hours listening to the horrors taking place in the peaceful community they’d grown up in. Six-year-old Aluma and 9-year-old Yosef would later tell their uncles that Dad had said he was going out to get the terrorists money at the ATM.
“There were just too many … bodies … to learn what happened, and that was just at Be’eri,” Adam told me back in February, at the Dead Sea hotel where he and other evacuees were staying, the day before he brought me here to bear witness.
This was an invasion into homes that lasted an entire day and involved such gore that I hesitate to go into detail.
It involved shooting a 3-month-old baby in the head, in front of her mother, in Kibbutz Be’eri, and burning an entire family alive from neighbouring Kibbutz Nir Oz, including all three young children.
It involved murdering parents in front of their children and then kidnapping the children – and these sons and daughters have still not returned home. Some are confirmed dead in Gaza and are bodies waiting to be brought back, like Adam’s best friend Itay Svirsky, which was how I initially met Adam and began learning about this community, while others are likely still alive in captivity, starving and suffering in ways human beings should not be permitted to suffer. But the Red Cross has done nothing for the hostages since the very beginning.
In Israel, we have waited, prayed, hoped and fought. We have gone to weekly rallies in Tel Aviv and Kiryat Gat, saying the hostages’ names and counting the days, chanting “Achshav, achshav, achshav.” (“Now, now, now.”)
We have had to silence our phones, as constant notifications appear, notifying us of the nonstop rockets entering our airspace and our cities from Hezbollah in Lebanon, the Houthis in Yemen and other groups in Iraq and Syria, while ongoing predictions about whether Iran will or won’t do something big (and when they will or won’t do it) are discussed and analyzed.
But, since arriving on Kibbutz Be’eri last month, I have felt a shift.
It’s a unique kind of optimism I have never quite seen. It’s pride and it’s love and it’s strength and it’s resolve and it’s “F—- you, we’re not leaving.” It’s coming from returning Kibbutz Be’eri members, it’s coming from people like myself who have come to Be’eri since Oct. 7 to help with the land and to work, to add to the life being rebuilt here and to help heal the collective broken heart of this community.
I fell in love with Israel because I fell in love with its people. I am here in Israel to tell the stories of what happened on Oct. 7, 2023, and is still happening, at every moment of every day for these incredible people, these people of Kibbutz Be’eri and elsewhere, who have come back to their lives and are attempting “normality” on their beautiful land.
Melanie Prestonis a Canadian-born, American-raised, Jewish writer and traveler who discovered Israel at the age of 26, immigrated to the country and stayed for seven years. She flew to Israel alone on Nov. 16, 2023, from her home in Charlotte, NC, and was there to March of this year. She returned to Israel last month to continue writing about the hostages and impacts of October 7th on Israeli society. She intends to spend more time with the survivors of Kibbutz Be’eri as it is rebuilt. To support her work and read more of it, go to melanie-preston.com, or visit her GoFundMe (Raising Awareness on Israel’s War).
The experience of the Jewish calendar is ever-changing because, while the week’s parshah is the same every year, the people experiencing it have changed. This seems especially true for the year just passed.
Pesach held stark resonance this spring, as Jews worldwide held in our hearts the captives in Gaza and pain around the ongoing war. Every happy moment in the calendar was darkened by the shadow of Oct. 7. Every solemn moment seemed laden with deeper significance.
It is a rare Jew whose life has not changed dramatically since that day. Israelis and Jews had ripped from us a sense of historical, collective and personal security that the Jewish state was supposed to provide. While 75 years of conflict and insurrection have reminded us that Jews have never been entirely free from the hatred of others, the collective defence embodied in the state of Israel massively reduced the vulnerability experienced by previous generations. We also understand that this security has come at a cost and that the last 75 years have also been a source of suffering for our Palestinian neighbours and cousins. This is a juxtaposition we struggle with daily.
And then Oct. 7 ripped away our sense of communal security in a profound way. For Jews worldwide, it provoked what can be considered significant intergenerational trauma, recalling times when soldiers and their civilian collaborators could enter Jewish homes, perpetrate atrocities, annihilate families, separate us from our loved ones, loot our possessions, force conversions, exile and expel us, and take us captive.
Worldwide today, Jews have experienced a different, related trauma. In too many cases, Jews in Canada and elsewhere have been betrayed by our neighbours, let down by our ostensible friends and had our awareness wrenched open to the potential for abrupt changes in political climates.
This will be the first Rosh Hashanah since Oct. 7. It will be followed by the anniversary of the terror attacks, a commemoration that will be added to the black dates of Jewish history over millennia.
Day after day we hope for the return of the captives, and it will be a joyous moment when surviving hostages come back home. Between this writing and your reading, may that dream have become real. If not by then, let us hope for their redemption by the new year or certainly before the calendar turns on a full annual cycle since their capture. Every moment is a moment too long for their captivity. And every moment is a moment too long for continued war, and the destruction experienced by innocent Palestinians who are caught in it.
We can all well remember the holy days of just a few years ago when a global pandemic kept us from celebrating in person with our loved ones. For most of us, that forced separation has passed. That togetherness is reason enough to celebrate. Even so, it is precisely the idea of togetherness – when we know that so many families have been torn apart either temporarily or permanently – that adds sad resonance to our own sense of unity.
While we mourn those who will never again celebrate with their loved ones and we hope and pray for the return of the hostages so that they can rejoice in freedom with those they love, we should also take special appreciation for the gifts of those with whom we gather.
In Jewish fashion, the changed reality in which we find ourselves is already being woven into a sort of makeshift liturgy, as more than one article in this special issue of the paper describes. Thoughtful people have developed ways to memorialize and hold spiritual space for the hostages and all affected by this historical moment.
As we complete another cycle of the calendar, the immutable foundations of our tradition provide strength and familiarity. At the same time, as individuals and as a people, we are profoundly changed.