Pope Francis

Are good intentions enough?

The pope visited a Rome synagogue Sunday – the first visit to a synagogue during his papacy and a significant event in the context of inter-religious friendship. Pope Francis condemned violence based on religion and called on Catholics to rediscover the Jewish roots of Christianity. During the past half-century, relations between the Catholic Church and the Jewish community have made historical and immensely positive advances. Out of a history of bleak victimization based on Catholic teachings, the modernization of Catholic doctrine in the early 1960s reversed the millennia-old accusation of deicide and began a process of reconciliation that has been largely genuine and welcomed.

But, sadly, antisemitism – religious or otherwise – remains.

Recently released statistics say 2015 saw more Jews make aliyah from Western Europe than in any year since the founding of the state. Nearly 10,000 Western European Jews – 8,000 of them from France – made the move to Israel. While this level of aliyah will be heralded by some as a positive milestone, it reflects a dismal trend for Jewish communities in France, the United Kingdom, Italy and Belgium which, in that order, saw the greatest number of emigrants.

And the trajectory seems unlikely to abate, with Jews in the southern French city of Marseille now being advised by the leader of their community not to be seen in public with a kippah after a brutal assault on an identifiable Jew in that city and several years of similar violence across France.

In response, two women have started a social media campaign using the hashtag TousAvecUneKippah – everyone with a kippah. The idea is for everyone to don the traditional Jewish headwear as a gesture of solidarity and to confound those who would no longer be able to identify Jews to attack. This has resulted in some fun viral photos, such as a kippah on the Mona Lisa and another atop a model of the Eiffel Tower.

The idea that “we are all Jews” is an effort at solidarity and is a heart-warming and obviously well-intentioned move. It has some history, too. There is an apocryphal (that is to say, in this case, pleasant but untrue) story of the Danish King Christian X wearing a yellow star in solidarity with his country’s Jewish population during the Nazi occupation of his country. It is the sort of story that we wish were true.

Even so, there is a potential downside to claiming membership in an oppressed or victimized group. Middle-class North American university students wrap themselves in Palestinian keffiyas, thinking they are showing solidarity when to some it can have a whiff of blackface, of usurping the history of another.

Cultural appropriation can cut both ways. The idea that “we are all Jews,” as the kippahs-for-all idea seems to advance, has a potential to damage as well as heal. The pretense that “we are all Jews” could provide a licence to critique Judaism and Jews in ways that people would never dare with other ethnic or religious groups. If we are all Jews, after all, then antisemitism is little more than self-criticism.

Another not insignificant consideration is the fact that the world is not all Jews. Neither are we all Muslims (or Parisians or Charlie Hebdo or anything else). While such efforts at solidarity and support are well-intended, they also, in their way, betray a proud tenet of Canadian and other pluralist societies, which is that we do not gloss over or erase these differences, but celebrate and defend them.

Similarly, the pope’s efforts to exalt the Jewish roots of Christianity, seemingly well-intentioned, could be problematic. The fact that Christianity emerged as a Jewish sect has been a point of contention for 2,000 years. That a small group of stiff-necked people has refused to accept Christianity as a successor religion has caused outrage that has led to literally countless deaths over centuries.

The idea that we are all Jews is a nice one in times like these, but we should remember that such ideas have a double edge.

Bright lights to end year

Canadians have been in an uncharacteristically self-congratulatory mood lately over our national response to the Syrian refugee crisis. The federal government has come through on behalf of thousands of people fleeing the catastrophic violence in Syria, with the prime minister and what appeared to be most of his cabinet showing up personally to greet the first arrivals. Perhaps more impressive still has been the mobilization of ordinary Canadians to sponsor and aid refugees, with synagogues, churches, community groups, neighborhoods and individuals stepping up to help. In contrast with the response from many in the world, including the Gulf states and divisive figures like Donald Trump, Canadians should be rightly proud of our collective response.

Certainly there are concerns among some Canadians about the newcomers. The idea that “radicalized” individuals could slip in under the guise of humanitarian status is frequently mooted. More likely is the potential that some refugees may carry with them ideas about women, Jewish people, gay people or others that are not consistent with this country’s norms. This is not something to gloss over. We should be aware of it and ensure that, along with our clearly demonstrated willingness to offer a heart-felt welcome to the refugees, we also model for them other Canadian ideals, including respect for difference. The fact that the groups sponsoring refugees are themselves representative of Canadian diversity should be a good head start in this regard.

The joyous welcome we have witnessed is an uplifting way to draw 2015 to a close. This has not been a year filled with happy news, yet the last few weeks have brought us several encouraging lights in the midst of the winter’s darkness.

In Paris last weekend, 195 countries made an historic step toward reining in the carbon emissions that are causing climate change. These two issues – refugees and the climate – are not unrelated. Scientists and other warn that if something significant does not change quickly, the world will be awash in populations struggling against each other for arable land, potable water and habitable space. It is a daunting prospect, put mildly, and events in Paris suggest the world may finally be taking the danger seriously. Of course, we have made false promises before. Again, we may have reached a moment of truth where the arc of history is bending toward repairing the damage we have done to the world.

There has been another very significant development in recent days. The rapprochement between the Jewish people and the Catholic Church that began five decades ago took a very major and substantive leap forward with remarks by Pope Francis and the release of a landmark statement by the Vatican.

Catholics, the document states, are obligated to demonstrate their faith in Jesus to all people, including Jews, but the Catholic Church “neither conducts nor supports” missionary initiatives aimed toward Jews. From the perspective of 2,000 years of Christian doctrine that situates the Catholic Church and Christianity as the preemptive successor religion to Judaism, this is a revolution. It is the antithesis of the sort of language and ideas that have caused incalculable strife for Jews in Europe and other primarily Christian lands. It suggests that the leadership of the church, once deemed infallible and all-knowing, admits that some things are unknowable. The Christian dictum that eternal life requires belief in and dedication to Jesus as the messiah is neither negated nor affirmed by this new statement, deeming it “an unfathomable divine mystery” that salvation can come only through Jesus while the church also affirms the biblical covenant between God and the Jewish people, the Vatican says.

“While affirming salvation through an explicit or even implicit faith in Christ,” the Vatican document says, “the church does not question the continued love of God for the chosen people of Israel.”

The Pope has repeatedly made friendly gestures to the Jewish people, rejecting millennia of hostility and continuing a trajectory of reconciliation begun in the 1960s with the Second Vatican Council.

These three developments – the welcoming of refugees to Canada, the recognition that we must care for our planet for its and our survival, and an historic reappraisal of the relationship between Christianity and Judaism – seem like pleasant things to reflect on as we close out a year in which bright lights are a welcome respite.

Bad journalists, very bad!

Rolling Stone magazine recently completely retracted a story purporting to delve into an incident of gang-rape on the campus of the University of Virginia. The story was so devoid of basic journalistic processes and fact-checking that it is destined to go down as an object lesson in journalism schools for years to come.

Other incidents, less egregious but still dubious, popped up in the last few days.

Social media was ablaze last week over news that the federal government was preparing to criminalize critics of Israel, specifically by applying Canada’s hate laws against supporters of BDS, the movement to boycott, divest from and sanction Israel.

Advocates of free speech were up in arms – and rightly so. BDS is a movement that seeks the destruction of the state of Israel, in the guise of a one-state solution, and is discriminatory in its targeting of products, people and ideas based on their national origin. It is the contemporary equivalent of book-burning. It is deserving of scorn and contempt. But it is not deserving of legal prohibition in a country that respects free expression.

As it turns out, the very idea that Canada was about to criminalize the BDS movement and its supporters was fabricated almost from full cloth by CBC reporter Neil Macdonald. Macdonald, who has been the subject of years of complaints for anti-Israel bias for his reporting from the Middle East and Washington, had a brief (and somewhat snarky) email exchange with a spokesperson for Canada’s department of public safety.

The exchange began because Public Safety Minister Stephen Blaney, in a speech to the United Nations, promised to take a “zero tolerance” approach to those who boycott Israel. Macdonald demanded clarification of what “zero tolerance” meant.

In the email exchange, the spokesperson cites hate speech legislation, as well as laws around mischief involving religious buildings, and she noted the security infrastructure program that funds communities, such as the Jewish community, to improve security in communal buildings.

The response from the government was probably inadequate and Macdonald should have gotten a comment directly from the minister explaining what he meant by “zero tolerance,” and not used boilerplate from a civil servant (something he himself acknowledged in his exchange). Instead, he went ahead with an inflammatory story that was more conjecture than news, but which had the effect of rousing the reliably tetchy anti-Israel crowds.

This, too, could be an object lesson for future (and current) journalists. As could a story more visible than either of these: the story that Pope Francis declared Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas an “angel of peace.”

The story of the old terrorist being dubbed an “angel of peace” by the head of Roman Catholicism alarmed those of us who have been impressed with Francis’ approach to world affairs. However, the fault did not lie with the pontiff but with the media.

What Francis said was that Abbas could be an angel of peace – if he made peace with Israel. What the Pope said to Abbas – “May you be an angel of peace” – is a far different thing than what was reported. It was a wish, not a declaration. And it is a wish we could not more heartily share.

Journalism struggles today in the changing landscape of media, tighter budgets, fewer staff doing more tasks – we understand all this. But when some of this country’s and the world’s leading voices of reporting get things so wrong, the institution of journalism suffers even more.

In a world where information (and misinformation) has never been so plentiful, what readers really need are the critical tools to discern fact from fiction and half-truths. In a world of 140-character attention spans, though, do we hope for too much?

Pope tries to please in Holy Land

The whirlwind visit to the Holy Land by the head of world Catholicism, Pope Francis, left commentators hyperventilating. The brief, two-day excursion was ram-jam full of symbolism, some of it seemingly contradictory.

After visiting Jordan, the Pope traveled to Bethlehem, pointedly referring to the area as the “state of Palestine.” He made an unscheduled stop at the security barrier, adjacent to graffiti reading “Pope we need some 1 to speak about Justice … Bethlehem look like Warsaw ghetto.” The Pope placed his forehead against the barrier and prayed, in an image most commonly associated with visitors to the Western Wall, a few kilometres away.

The Pope’s visit was emphatically billed as “strictly religious” and non-political, but, it appears, everything is political in this part of the world, most of all religion. The “state of Palestine” was festooned in posters of the pope conjoined with Palestinian President Mahmoud Abbas. Images abounded of Palestinian suffering parallel with images of the suffering of Jesus, from which some viewers might conclude that the same people who have for millennia borne the blame for the one incident are also solely responsible for the other. Of course, the Pope’s entourage was not responsible for Photoshopping done by Palestinian partisans. Yet, neither was the Pope’s time in Israel free from perceptions of politicization. He visited the tomb of Theodor Herzl, which must certainly have appeared to Palestinians as unambiguous as his reference to the “state of Palestine.”

The Pope invited Abbas and Israel’s President Shimon Peres to a prayer summit at the Vatican – an invitation both leaders accepted and which is to take place next week. Some commentators have noted that Peres is a figurehead who will not be directly involved in future peace negotiations and whose term is nearly at an end, but papal spokespeople noted that Francis and Peres have developed a cordial relationship and the event should not be seen as a snubbing of Abbas’ counterpart in peace talks, Prime Minister Binyamin Netanyahu. The prayer summit is seen as an opportunity to recast religion as a unifying force in the Israeli-Palestinian relationship, rather than the divisive force as which it is frequently perceived. The invitation is an interesting gambit, and an apparently overt move by the Pope to insert the Vatican back into the centre of global diplomacy where it sat for centuries. And while prayers for peace are always welcome, a mass prayer at the Vatican some months ago for peace in Syria seems to have fallen on deaf ears. Still, it can’t hurt.

Papal visits, in the age of 24-hour news, are highly visual and symbolic. Symbolism is powerful, particularly in scenarios of diplomatic complexity. But, by definition, symbolism lacks nuance. The Pope apparently attempted to please everybody, by paying homage to the national rights of both peoples. But while he voiced explicit hopes for an end to terrorism and for the right of Israelis to live in security – which, all ancillary issues aside, are the two pillars upon which eventual peaceful coexistence will stand – his symbolic efforts to please both sides are as likely to please no one. In this, Pope Francis is in good company with everyone else who has attempted to walk the impossible line of equanimity in this conflict.

Meanwhile, as attention was focused to the Middle East, events in Europe reflected a sadly repetitive history. As Pope Francis was incanting “Never again” at Yad Vashem and at a memorial to victims of terror, families were mourning the murders of four at a Jewish museum in Brussels. The Pope condemned the attack as a “criminal act of antisemitic hatred.” As well, the Pope’s travels partially eclipsed news of fringe extremist groups, some openly antisemitic, making significant gains in elections to the European parliament.

As Pope Francis returns to his home in the Vatican and prepares to welcome Abbas and Peres, there is no shortage of topics to pray about.