Features
Was a Nazi war criminal living in St. James forced to hang himself by a Jewish “avenger” in 1960?
By BERNIE BELLAN The story of an alleged Nazi war criminal by the name of Alexander Laak, who was found hanging in his St. James garage in 1960, is one that has been revisited in this newspaper several times.
In October 1987, the late Gene Telpner first broached the story in our pages in one of his columns, when he wrote the following:
Quite a few columns ago I wrote about a book called “Forged in Fury”, which detailed the hanging in Winnipeg of an alleged war criminal by one or more Israeli “agents”.
They apparently had flown here, carried out the execution, and then caught a plane out of the city the same day.
At the time, the Free Press story reported the man’s death as a suicide, and the name given in the item was not his real one. His real name was Alexander Laak, and the wartime actions in which he allegedly participated took place in Estonia, near Tallin.
At one time, Laak worked at the RCAF base in Winnipeg. When he came to Canada from Europe he had received “clearance” from the British and Americans, but apparently the Russians wanted him back for further investigation.
Now all of this original story was in 1960, and not until 1970, when the book Forged in Fury was published, did the details emerge. Those details came as a shock to Arthur Drache, son of Mr. and Mrs. Samuel Drache of this city, for several reasons.
For one, Arthur was a Free Press reporter when the “suicide” was printed and covered the story. Asked about it, Drache said, “We wrote a couple of stories “which received page one play, but did not give his name because of libel laws.”
But when Drache, who is now Arthur Drache Q.C. with the law firm of Drache Rotenberg in Ottawa, read “Forged in Fury”, he got full details for the first time. He wrote to the Free Press to tell them about the book’s revelations, but says he never got a response from the newspaper.
One of the saddest parts of the story to Drache is the fact that he and Laak’s son were classmates at Gordon Bell, and played on the school football team.
Laak was never publicly identified in Winnipeg while he was alive. It is believed that there had been accusations from some sources, but he protested his innocence.
Arthur Drache explained, “Only his ‘suicide’ allowed fuller disclosures and until I read “Forged in Fury” I was quite at a loss to explain his actions.”
Subsequently, in a February 20, 1991 issue of The Jewish Post & News, Myron Love had this story:
Manitoba RCMP looking into 30-year-old suicide of alleged Nazi
The Royal Canadian Mounted Police have re-opened an investigation into the apparent suicide 30 years ago of an alleged Estonian Nazi living in Winnipeg. The new investigation was requested by the provincial Attorney-General’s Department, following an article on the case last winter in the Winnipeg Free Press, and a subsequent letter by a member of the public to the attorney-general, asking that this possible murder be investigated, in light of the war crimes prosecutions taking place in the country.
Alexander Laak was found hanging in his garage on September 6, 1960, according to Sargent Wes Border of the RCMP’s General Investigation Section. The section is looking into the matter, after a series of newspaper reports from the Soviet Union, alleging Laak was a Nazi collaborator. The Winnipeg police investigated his death at the time.
A coroner’s inquest, headed by Dr. I.O. Fryer, then the province’s chief medical officer, ruled the death an apparent suicide, and the case was closed.
In the early 1970s, an author named Michael Elkin published a book called “Forged in Fury”, in which he described how an Israeli agent named Arnie Berg came to Winnipeg from South America, and gave Laak the choice of committing suicide or having him and his wife killed by Berg.
Last February, Winnipeg Free Press reporter Dave Roberts wrote a story on the case, with reference to Elkins’ report. (Roberts is unavailable for comment. He is currently in the Middle East.) The article also led to the attack on retired journalist Keith Rutherford by a couple of Skinheads in Alberta last year. The Skinheads claimed they were paying him back for exposing Laak. One claimed to be Laak’s son, but there is no record of any family. (Ed. note: Gene Telpner’s story does disclose that Laak had a son – also someone whom Arthur Drache knew, so the notion that Laak’s son may have been part of a group that attacked Rutherford is certainly plausible.)
Sgt. Border isn’t optimistic the GIS investigation will turn up anything. “Thirty years is a long time,” he says. “People are dead. Reports are no longer available to us.”
He reports contacts have been made with the war crimes investigation unit in Ottawa to check their information on Estonian war crimes, and with Israel to find out if Elkin’s book was fact or fiction. “We’re waiting to hear back to see if we should look into this more seriously,” he says. “With everything going on in the Middle East, and considering this is 30 years old, I don’t expect this matter will be pushed to the forefront. It’s a case that will not be easy to investigate.”
We’re playing catch-up.”
In the summer of 2014 I had written about a book titled “The Avengers”, which was about a group of Holocaust survivors led by Abba Kovner (who went on to become a famous Israeli poet). Subsequent to that book review I was reminded of the story of Alexander Laak, and I decided to try to find out whether there was anything more I could find out about the story – which apparently had reached a dead end.
I decided to attempt to contact Arthur Drache who, Gene Telpner had written, had actually covered the story of Alexander Laak’s “suicide” in 1960. Arthur Drache has been one of Canada’s best known tax attorneys for many years, has been the recipient of many awards. Several years ago Gerry Posner profiled Arthur Drache in an article for our paper titled , which can be found on our website at .
I called Arthur Drache in 2014 – and was surprised when he answered his phone himself. In any event, I recall that Mr. Drache was quite obliging – and had vivid memories of his own personal involvement in the Alexander Laak story. Here is what I wrote in August 2014:
As Gene Telpner mentions in his story, in 1960 Drache was working as a reporter for the Free Press. Drache told me, during a phone conversation, that he was a student at Brandeis University at the time.
Drache says that his assignment editor had received a tip that Laak was living in Winnipeg. According to Drache, it came from a Russian source. The Estonian community in Winnipeg was quite small at the time, Drache said, and it was an easy matter for him to track Laak down.
He told me that he and another reporter went to Laak’s house in St. James and spent some time speaking with him. According to Drache, Laak downplayed the role he had played in the Jägala camp in Estonia, describing his duties as akin to being “the warden of Stony Mountain”, in Drache’s words.
As Telpner noted in his story, Drache went on to write about Laak, but without revealing his true name. Drache said to me that he found the notion that a Mossad agent tracking Laak down and forcing him to commit suicide highly implausible.
But, I suggested to him, the same information that had been given to the Free Press, presumably by Russian authorities, might also have been given to the Israelis.
Drache did concede that point. He went on to say that immediately after he wrote his story about Laak, which was in late August, 1960, he recalled, he drove to Boston to resume his studies at Brandeis. On the way he happened to pick up a copy of the New York Times, which published a major story about the suicide of Alexander Laak but, as was the case with the Free Press story about the suicide, the NY Times story did not reveal his true name.
Drache also mentioned his personal connection to Alexander Laak – through Laak’s son. As Gene Telpner had written, they had both attended Gordon Bell High School, were classmates in fact and even played on the high school football team together. It was the fact that he knew Laak’s son that led his assignment editor at the Free Press to ask Drache to go to Laak’s house to interview him.
When the book “Forged in Fury” was published in 1970, Drache says he was shocked at the allegations made in that book about Laak.
Drache told me, “We wrote a couple of stories which received page one play, but did not give his (Laak’s) name because of libel laws.”
But when Drache read “Forged in Fury”, he was made aware of the full details surrounding Alexander Laak’s alleged background as a Nazi war criminal for the first time. He wrote to the Free Press to tell them about the book’s revelations, but says he never got a response from the newspaper.
Laak was never publicly identified in Winnipeg while he was alive. It is believed that there had been accusations from some sources, but he protested his innocence.
Arthur Drache explained, “Only his ‘suicide’ allowed fuller disclosures and until I read ‘Forged in Fury’ I was quite at a loss to explain his actions.”
One final footnote to this story: In attempting to find out more about Alexander Laak, I came across this information on a white supremacist website:
Alexander Laak , former commandant of the Jägala camp in Estonia where a large number of Jews were supposedly massacred, is alleged to have committed suicide by hanging in his garage in Winnipeg , Canada. A number of Laak’s subordinates had at the time been given harsh sentences at a Soviet show trial. According to an article in Der Tagespiegel September 8, 1960, Laak had declared the Soviet allegations against him to be “99% lies and Communist propaganda.” In Michael Elkin’s book Forged in Fury (1971) it is claimed that a Jewish “avenger” named Arnie Berg travelled to Winnipeg to kill Laak, and that Laak hanged himself under Berg’s supervision in order to not have his wife shot by Berg.
This entire story was brought to mind again when I started to watch a ridiculous TV show called “Hunters” which, although it has a stellar cast, is really nothing more than a comic book fantasy about Jewish avengers pursuing Nazis in America. Still, the story surrounding Alexander Laak’s suicide could make an interesting movie. Maybe Jonas Chernick would be interested?
Features
The Torah on a Lost Dog: Hashavat Aveidah in a Modern Canadian City
A neighbour’s dog wanders into your yard on a Wednesday morning in May, dragging a leash and looking confused. You have a choice. You can close the door and assume someone else will deal with it, call the city, or take a photo, knock on a few doors, and try to find out where he belongs.
For most people in Winnipeg and elsewhere in Canada, that choice plays out in a flash of moral instinct rather than reflection. The hand reaches for the phone and the walk around the block begins. The neighbour, if it goes well, is at the door before lunch. The decision feels minor, but it matters more than it looks.
In Jewish tradition, the act of returning a lost animal sits at the centre of one of the oldest practical commandments in the Torah. Deuteronomy 22, near the end of Parashat Ki Teitzei, contains a passage that has become the foundation for an entire body of Jewish ethical law: “If you see your fellow’s ox or sheep going astray, you shall not hide yourself from them; you shall surely bring them back.” The verse goes on to extend this duty beyond animals to any lost property. “So shall you do with every lost thing of your brother’s which he has lost and you have found.” Then comes the line that has occupied rabbis for two thousand years: “You may not hide yourself.”
The Hebrew name for this mitzvah is hashavat aveidah, the returning of a lost thing. It is one of the more practical commandments in a tradition full of practical commandments, and the rabbinic literature surrounding it is unusually thick.
A small commandment with big implications
The reason hashavat aveidah occupies so much rabbinic attention is that, on closer reading, it sets a high ethical bar. The Talmud, particularly the second chapter of tractate Bava Metzia known as Eilu Metziot, devotes pages to questions a modern reader would immediately recognize. How long must you wait for the owner to claim the item? How hard do you have to look for them? What if the animal needs feeding while you search? What expenses can you recover, and what counts as fair? What if the item is too inconvenient to safely return?
The rabbis answer all of these. The answers are not always intuitive. The finder is obligated to feed and shelter the animal while looking for the owner. The animal must not be put to work for the finder’s profit. The owner, when found, repays reasonable costs but is not on the hook for unreasonable ones. If the search takes too long, there are procedures for what to do next, none of which involve quietly keeping what is not yours.
Underneath the legal detail is a moral assumption that is easy to miss in a hurried reading. The Torah does not say to return the animal if it is convenient. It explicitly forbids the act of hiding yourself, of pretending you did not see, of crossing to the other side of the street. The commandment is as much about the person who finds as it is about the animal that is lost.
What this looks like in 2026
Most people who encounter a stray dog in a Winnipeg neighbourhood today are not thinking about Bava Metzia. They are thinking about whether the dog is friendly, whether they should call the City, whether they have time. The instinct to help is usually present. The question is what to do with it.
The practical infrastructure for hashavat aveidah in this country has changed considerably in the last decade. A finder in Winnipeg in 2026 has access to a regional humane society, a network of local Facebook groups, neighbourhood newsletters, and a handful of national platforms that gather sightings and missing-pet alerts across more than 180 Canadian cities. The mechanism is straightforward. A clear photo and a location pin can reach the right owner within hours when the system works, which it usually does.
The most underused of these resources, in any community, is the simple act of posting a sighting. Many people who find a stray feel they need to first catch the animal, find it food, take it home, or in some way solve the problem in full. The rabbis would actually disagree with that framing, and so does modern pet-recovery practice. The first responsibility is to make the sighting visible. The owner is almost certainly already looking. The finder’s main job is to surface what they have seen.
For people in Winnipeg looking for a place to start, a practical guide for what to do when you find a stray walks through the basic steps. Take a clear photo, note the cross-streets and time, check for a tag, and post the sighting where local owners will see it. The work is small. The effect, on the owner who has been awake for two nights and then sees a photo of their dog with a phone number underneath, is much larger than the work itself.
The ethical centre of the commandment
There is a strain of Jewish thought that reads hashavat aveidah as a kind of training in noticing. The deeper commandment goes beyond returning what is lost. It asks the finder to be the kind of person who sees what is lost in the first place, who does not cross to the other side of the street, who does not pretend not to have noticed.
That reading lines up with another Jewish ethical concept that often gets paired with this one: tza’ar ba’alei chayim, the obligation to prevent unnecessary suffering to animals. The Talmud derives this principle from several places in the Torah, including the rest commanded for animals on Shabbat. The two principles overlap in the case of a lost pet. The animal is suffering. The owner is suffering. The finder is, briefly, the only person in the position to do anything about it.
In a small way, the entire Canadian volunteer ecosystem around lost pets, from neighbourhood Facebook groups to national platforms to the dog walker who recognizes a posted photo, is an example of this ethical structure in action. People do not necessarily think of it in those terms. The framework is there anyway, doing its quiet work.
A community-scale point
Winnipeg’s Jewish community has always understood itself as a network of responsibilities to others, the kind that get described as chesed when they are visible and assumed when they are not. The work of returning a lost animal sits comfortably in that frame. It is not heroic, does not make the bulletin, and is exactly the kind of small obligation that knits a community together when nobody is paying attention.
The dog in the yard on a Wednesday morning in May, leash trailing, is one version of the question Deuteronomy asks. The answer, then and now, is the same. Do not hide yourself.
Features
Basketball: How has Israel become one of the best basketball countries in Europe in the last few years?
When Israeli Deni Avdija became the first Israeli to be drafted as the highest Israeli draftee in NBA history in 2020 – then emerged as a key NBA wing in Portland, it was not so much the breakthrough it appeared to be, but a portent of things to come. Israeli basketball development has been decades in the making, and in recent years its clubs have made Europe take notice.
This is why Maccabi Tel Aviv, Hapoel Tel Aviv, and the national basketball team of Israel are now the subjects of serious discussion in European basketball. It is only natural that fans and bettors reading form, depth of the roster, and momentum would look at our Euroleague predictions and then evaluate how Israeli teams would fit into the continental picture.
A rich history: The Maccabi Tel Aviv mythos
The contemporary narrative dates back to before Avdija. Maccabi Tel Aviv won its maiden European Cup in 1977, beating Mobilgirgi Varese and providing a nation under pressure with a sporting icon. Tal Brody’s declaration: “We are on the map” became not just a quote, it became a declaration of Jewish confidence, Israeli strength and a basketball dream.
Maccabi turned out to be the team of the nation since it bore Israeli identity past the borders. Maccabi has been a cultural ambassador before globalization transformed elite lists into multinational conundrums. Its yellow jerseys were the symbol of excellence, rebellion, and identification for the Israeli people at home and Jewish communities abroad.
The six European championships for the club provided a benchmark that has influenced the Winner League and Israeli basketball. Children were not just spectators of Maccabi, they dreamed of Europe as something accessible. Coaches studied in the continental competition. Sponsors and broadcasters realized that basketball had the potential to be the most exportable Israel team sport.
The modern pillars of Israeli basketball’s success
The recent ascendancy of Israel is no magic. It is the result of history, astute recruiting, youth-building and pressure-tested league culture. The nation has made its size its strength: clubs find talent at a young age and enhance the potential with foreign professionals.
Nurturing homegrown talent: The Deni Avdija effect
The most obvious example is that of Avdija. He was a high-ranking contributor in the system of Maccabi Tel Aviv, was chosen as a teenager, and was picked number 9 by Washington in the 2020 NBA Draft. His career was a reminder that an Israeli prospect could be more than a local star; he could be a lottery pick with two-way NBA potential.
Israeli NBA player Omri Casspi had already opened that door, and Avdija opened it even further for the next generation. Their achievements captivated the expectations of youthful players in Tel Aviv, Jerusalem, Holon, Herzliya, etc. An Israeli teenager is now able to envision a path from youth leagues to the Winner League, the EuroLeague, and ultimately – NBA minutes.
It is that dream that has been followed by investment. Israeli clubs put more emphasis on skills training, strength training, and analytics, as well as international youth tournaments. The success of the national program in the face of the best of Europe has also helped.
A global approach: The role of international and naturalized stars
The other pillar of the Israeli basketball program is the openness of Israel to global talent. The Winner League has been an important destination, not a stopover, for American guards and forwards. Most come in with NCAA or G league experience and become leaders due to the fact that the league requires scoring, speed and tactical flexibility.
It is enriched with naturalized players and Jewish players, who are able to use the Law of Return to come to Israel to play. Inspired by legendary players like Tal Brody, current imports who can bond both professionally and personally with Israelis have provided teams with uncharacteristic diversity in their rosters. The outcome has been a mixture of Israeli competitiveness, American shot making, Balkan toughness, and European spacing.
Making waves in Europe: Israel’s modern Euroleague footprint
Even in challenging seasons, Maccabi Tel Aviv has remained the flagship team. Currently, Maccabi is out of a playoff spot in the EuroLeague, but Hapoel Tel Aviv has shot up in playoff discussion. That juxtaposition speaks volumes: Israel is no longer represented by one lone, iconic club. Its profile has expanded.
Nevertheless, it is true that the reputation of Maccabi in the EuroLeague does count. Menora Mivtachim Arena in Tel Aviv is one of the most intimidating arenas for EuroLeague teams to play in: loud and emotional. Recent security and travel realities have affected the usual home-court advantage but the name of the club is still a potent brand.
It is the reason why there is an interesting betting discussion within Israeli teams. The name Maccabi still retains a historical impact, but analysts also need to quantify the present defensive performance, injuries, substitution of venues and guards, and fatigue in the schedule. The emergence of Hapoel has provided another Israeli point of reference and markets have to regard the nation as a multi-club force.
What’s next? The future of Israeli basketball on the world stage
Sustainability is the second test. The Israeli national basketball team desires more serious EuroBasket performances and a future world cup. It requires Avdija types – fit and powerful, more domestic big men, and guards capable of playing elite defense to get there.
The pipeline is an optimistic one. Israeli schools are more professional, teams are bolder with young talents, and the Winner League is a test ground where potential talents have to contend with older, tougher imports each week. Not all players will turn into an Avdija, yet additional players ought to be prepared to participate in EuroCup, EuroLeague, and even NBA games.
To the Jews in the Canadian diaspora, the impact is not only sporting, it is also emotional. Israeli basketball brings pride, drama and a common language to the continents. To the European fan, it provides tempo, creativity and unpredictability. To analysts, it provides a sign that a small nation, with memory, ambition and adaptation, can rise to become a true basketball power. Israel has ceased to be the unexpected guest on the table of Europe. It is a part of it, season after season.
Features
In recent years, we have been looking for something more than a house in Israel – we have been looking for a home
For many Jewish families in the diaspora, Israel has always been more than a destination. It is the land of tefillah, memory, family history and belonging. But in recent years, many families have begun asking a practical question too: should Israel also become a place where we have a home?
Not necessarily immediate aliyah. Sometimes it begins with a future option, something good to have just in case, or simply roots with a stronger connection to Eretz Yisroel.
But what does it mean?
A Jewish home is shaped not only by what is inside the front door, but by what surrounds it: neighbours, synagogues, schools, parks, local services, safe streets and the rhythm of Jewish life. For observant families, these are not small details. They are the things that turn a house into a place of belonging.
This is not a new idea. It is a need that has helped shape Jewish communities in Israel before. The Savyonim idea is rooted in the story of Savyon, the Israeli community established in the 1950s by South African Jews who wanted to create a green, safe and community-minded environment in Israel. It was a diaspora dream translated into life in the Jewish homeland.
That idea feels relevant again today. Many Jewish families abroad are now making plans around where they can feel connected in the years ahead.
Recent figures point in the same direction. Reports based on Israel’s Ministry of Finance data showed that foreign residents bought around 1,900 homes in Israel in 2024, about 50% more than the previous year, with Jerusalem emerging as the most popular place to buy. In January 2026, foreign residents still purchased 146 homes, broadly similar to January 2025, even as the wider housing market remained cautious.
For Lior David, International Sales & Marketing Manager at Africa Israel Residences, part of the continued interest may lie in the fact that today’s residential projects are increasingly built around the wider needs of Jewish families abroad: not only buying a property in Israel, but finding a setting that can support community, continuity and everyday Jewish life. That idea is reflected in Savyonim, the company’s residential concept, which places the surrounding environment at the heart of choosing a home.
This can be seen in Savyoney Givat Shmuel, where the surrounding environment includes synagogues, parks, educational institutions, local commerce, playgrounds and transport links, and in Savyoney Ramat Sharet in Jerusalem, located in one of the city’s established green neighbourhoods.
For families abroad, these things matter. Jerusalem and Givat Shmuel are never just another location. They are home to strong Jewish communities, established religious life and surroundings that allow a family to imagine not only buying property, but building a Jewish home in Israel.
Together, these projects reflect a broader understanding: that for many Jews in the diaspora, the decision to create a home in Israel is not only practical, but rooted in identity, continuity and community. The Savyonim story began with a Zionist community from abroad that succeeded in building a real home in Israel; today, that same vision continues in a contemporary form.