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Former Winnipegger Zev Cohen publishes book of short stories: “Twilight in Saigon”

Zev Cohen, who was one of
the organizers of the Jewish
schools reunion in 2017
cover of “Twilight in Saigon”

Former Winnipegger Zev Cohen, who now lives part of the year in Israel and part of the year in Calgary, has just published a book of short stories titled “Twilight in Saigon”. The book is available for purchase on Amazon. Here is how the book is described on Amazon: This eclectic collection of stories crosses genre lines – war, crime, romance, espionage, science fiction, fantasy –

as it moves in time from World War II through the present and into the distant future. Its common thread is humanity and love in the face of adversity.
A journalist finds love and misfortune in the upheaval of the Vietnam war.
Working for the West, a spy is saved from the hands of the KGB.
A straight-laced British accountant finds the love of his life and evil in Hong Kong.
Immigrants grapple with despair, love, and the vicissitudes of life in new surroundings.
Politics, love and tragedy in the life of a president.
Stationed on a distant world, a Terran ambassador adapts to an alien culture as love overcomes sentient diversity.
A loyal android fights for his cruel leader.
Teenage romance during the Six Day War.
A day in a dog’s life.

…and much more

 We present here one of the stories from the book, titled “Gulfs and Pleasures”:

 I DO NOT RECOMMEND HAVING SEX WHILE WEARING A GAS MASK. BEYOND the empirical fact that it prevents kissing from being part of the act, it’s difficult to breathe during the strenuous effort. Within a couple of seconds, the mask fogs up, and you can’t see a thing. Moreover, the waves of giggling break your concentration. Try imagining what a naked woman and a naked man look like while wearing gas masks. You’d have to agree with me that it looks funny if not grotesque. But when there’s no choice, you do what you must do and enjoy it, if only in a limited way.

I called Orna’s cell phone as soon as the siren went off in the middle of the night. She picked up after the first ring.

“Are you alright? Is he at home?”

“No. Two hours ago, he was called up and ran off to join the guys and play war. I don’t believe that he’ll be back today. Who knows how long it will last? It’s scary, and we didn’t even prepare an airtight room. He insists that there’s no chance that it will hit us of all people. Anyway, what does he care? He’s sitting in the underground bunker ogling the girl soldiers. Nothing will happen to him.”

Orna was one of the regular participants in my first-year course on the history of European art since the Renaissance that I ran in the large lecture hall of the Gillman building. She used to sit in the front row with the other “stenographers.” Those were the co-eds who conscientiously scribbled down every word that came out of my mouth, including flat jokes and burps. She was older than them, mature and sure of her intelligence amid those Barbie dolls. As opposed to them, she would, from time to time, fire a challenging comment that proved she was listening carefully and under- standing. To my shame, or not, I wasn’t attracted to her brains, although they did arouse my curiosity. As I droned along, lecturing on autopilot, my look wandered from her hazel-green eyes to the swell of her breasts and her shapely legs. What could I do? Even a professor is a human being, isn’t he? On a depressing winter’s day, between perusal of desolate seminar papers on the play of light and shadow in Venetian painting and suicidal thoughts, I ran into her in the cafeteria. The usually hectic and packed room was unusually quiet. We were alone, not counting Sonia behind the counter. Perhaps the atmosphere of impending doom chased the regular café denizens away.

I’ll jump forward because there’s not much to say about the develop- ment of our relationship. We didn’t go for in-depth discussions about art, politics, or interpersonal relations. There was no sophisticated seduction or so-called love at first sight. We were two lonely people with their eyes open, who found something in each other that had been missing up to that specific moment. We went for it. For me, her presence filled a void that was characteristic of my life here since returning from New York and a string of what Erica Jong called “zipless fucks.” She never revealed what she found in me. I doubted that it was about my less than god-like physique. I didn’t ask for fear of bursting the bubble. I didn’t want to find out that I was just a reasonable alternative to Amnon, her here again, gone again husband. And the sex was great.

“Amnon will always be Amnon,” I replied with a tinge of baseless hypocrisy. “With or without Iraqi ground to ground missiles, he’ll always look out for number one. Anyway, you always know how to take care of yourself.”

I couldn’t help adding a bit of pretentious and hollow male know it all superiority, and I said, “But he’s right about one thing. The chance that a missile will land on top of you, in Ramat Gan of all places, is tiny.”

“Yes, definitely, Mr. Professor of art history and great international expert on ballistic missiles,” she shot back, taking me down a few notches. “Do you suggest that I drink a glass of water and calm down? In a minute, you’re going to replace Nachman Shai.”

I tried another tack.

“I can be over at your place in a few minutes to set up an airtight room. I’ve been hoarding plastic sheeting obsessively for months, and I’m sure there’s a technical drawing by Da Vinci that could guide me through it.” She giggled. It worked. She could have guessed that my building skills were negligible, but there was nothing like a bit of self-deprecating humor to bring her around and hide the truth. She accepted my generous offer, and I was on my way before she put down the virtual receiver.

The streets were abandoned at that early hour. The oily puddles left by the rain reflected the brake lights of the few cars on the road. On the radio, there was an endless stream of talking and talking. Nobody could say what was happening. Were we hearing distant explosions or just echoing thunder? Should we put on our masks or take them off? It all just went by me. My thoughts focused on expectations of Orna – hot caresses, electrifying touches, sweet breath, erect nipples, wet, wet, wet.

Here’s another suggestion for my male friends. Don’t come to your lovers tight as a spring, heart beating rapidly with passion and sweaty palms. And it doesn’t matter if it’s the first day of war or any other circumstance. You’ll come, in every meaning of the word, and it’ll be over in seconds. Much too quickly.

We were getting ready for another round when the second siren went off. Being good citizens, we put on our masks and checked the limits of human sexual capabilities under the threat of chemical attack. Between bursts of muffled laughter and the pungent smell of rubber, we got a passing grade for the efforts invested.

The cell phone rang, and Orna answered. “It’s him,” her lips expressed silently. Amnon.

 

“Yes, I understand. I’ll think about it. I’m not sure that it’s a good idea. She must already be hysterical, and she’ll make me crazy too. That’s the situation. Yeah, it’s disgusting, but I got them out of the attic, and if they tell us to, I’ll put on the mask. Be careful. Call me when you can. Kiss, kiss. Bye.”

She looked pale. “It looks as though it’s serious this time,” she explained after the short conversation with her loving and concerned husband. “His unit is moving, and for the next few days, he’s not coming home and won’t be available on the phone.”

“Where is he going? Somewhere around here?” I wasn’t asking because of some sudden fear for Amnon’s safety. I just wanted to weigh the chances that he might show up by surprise and see what the civilians were doing in the rear…at his home.

“He said that it’s secret and he can’t talk about it. He wants me to move in with his mother in Jerusalem until things calm down. You heard what I told him. It’s out of the question.”

Amnon’s secret location was troubling. My plan to get comfortable in Orna’s bed for the next few days has a whiff of danger about it now. Suddenly he calls. Suddenly he’s worried about her and wants to send her to Jerusalem. What is he scheming? He might even show up unannounced to see if she was okay.

There wasn’t much time to consider the options, as the undulating howl of a siren broke the silence. This time we could distinctly hear the distant boom that followed it. The minute that the all-clear sounded, we were in the car on our way to Eilat. We even sang “Heading South to Eilat” loudly on a childish high at 4 a.m. On the Arava highway, we joined a slowly crawling jam of vehicles. It appeared that others, lots of them, came up with Orna’s brilliant idea to get out of the bull’s eye and as far outside of the missiles’ range as possible.

Orna wanted us to move into a holiday apartment in the southern town owned by her former schoolmate, best friend, and current neighbor, Rachel. Thanks to her outstanding bodily dimensions, Rachel had taken up a modeling career that frequently brought her to Paris, London, and New York. She changed her name to Tiffany and, when traveling, left the keys to her apartment and the Eilat hideaway with Orna. She often invited her and Amnon to use the Eilat domicile. I tried to convince Orna to come to a hotel with me to survive the war in bed with room service.

Near Beer Ora, Amnon called again. He heard as we did that a missile had hit Ramat Gan, destroying his and my low probability theory.

“Calm down. I’m still at home, and nothing happened on our street,” she told him. “There was a giant explosion, pretty close by, and the walls shook, but nothing more than that.” The lies slipped off her tongue smoothly. What else could she say?

“I might go to your mother’s later. In the meantime, if you can’t reach me on the phone, it’s because I’m down in the shelter. I don’t trust that plastic sheeting that we don’t have anyway.”

After saying goodbye with kisses, she reported no chance that he would make it home in the coming days. He must make do with the underwear he took with him. I breathed easier.

In Eilat, we dragged from hotel to hotel, the bed and room service plan falling to pieces. The same scene played out everywhere. Lobbies had turned into battlefields between separate Jewish combatants. Israel war-time solidarity gave way to exchanges of curses, pushing and shoving, and an awakening of Sephardi-Ashkenazi infighting. Never did hotel managers discover so many long-lost close friends from school and the army, relatives on the side of granny from Afula, and various other people with exclusive rights. Everyone was squeezing up against the reception desks trying to get hold of even the smallest partially furnished closet. It was a nightmare. In one of the luxury properties, the security guards were unsuccessfully attempting to take apart an outpost of suitcases and sleeping bags established by two families with a hive full of nervous brats.

Again, it’s Amnon on the phone. Orna shouldn’t try to reach him at his unit. He won’t be available due to radio silence and communications security. That’s fine, I thought. The walls have ears.

We dredged up Orna’s original plan. In a few minutes, we found the holiday apartment building. It was a nondescript structure with balconies overlooking a dilapidated neighborhood minimarket. The elevator was out of service, so we climbed the stairs to the fourth floor. On each landing, we stopped for a couple of moments of hurried necking, expecting what was coming. Hands were sent out to intimate parts, lips locked, tongues writhed. As Orna tried to fish the keys out of her bag while loosening my belt, I was busily unbuttoning her blouse to get at her bra.

The door opened, and we fell into the apartment. A pleasantly cold gust of air from the air conditioner welcomed us in. Someday had left it on since the last visit. We couldn’t wait for the bed. Clothes were rapidly removed and thrown aside, and the plush carpet hosted our vigorous sexual duet.

Eventually, things calmed down, and we could hear muffled, unidenti- fiable voices coming from somewhere else in the apartment: mumbling, quiet moaning, a cadence of creaking. We got up to check the noises that seemed to be coming from behind the closed but flimsy door of the bedroom. Just in case, I picked up a thick rolling pin in the kitchen. I pushed the door open, and no terrorist jumped me. Only Orna’s somewhat hysterical laughter penetrated my consciousness. Amnon pulled back from between Tiffany/Rachel’s legs spread wide as though bitten by a snake and stared at us incredulously.

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Gangster Mickey Cohen was a strong supporter of the Irgun – or as he liked to call them: “those Jew guys”

Mickey Cohen at his 1956 arraignment for tax evasion

By BERNIE BELLAN The confluence of money and corrupt politicians is something we read about all the time. It’s never been as brazen as it has been under Donald Trump – who will take money from anyone who’s willing to give it to him – almost always for immediate favours or in return for favours down the road.
But Jewish history is replete with stories of corruption, much as many of us like to think that the “chosen people” are somehow more removed from the venal behaviour of the “goyim.”

My story about the brutality of a Jewish gang known as Zwi Migdal, which operated with almost total impunity in Argentina (and several other countries as well) for almost 70 years happened to coincide with my reading a book about a famous Jewish mobster by the name of Mickey Cohen.

Mickey Cohen’s autoboiography


This book though happened to be a sort of autobiography of Cohen, as told to a writer by the name of John Peter Nugent. It’s quite an old book – having been published in 1975, just one year before Cohen’s death.
What sets this particular book apart from other books about mobsters, however, is it’s told in Cohen’s own words.
When he refers to his fellow Jews, for instance, he often describes them as “dem Jew guys” or something like that. There was nothing particularly admirable about Cohen. He was a thug, a thief, and a killer, but to read his descriptions of his various sordid activities, you’d think: “Well, that’s one way to make a living.”
Perhaps best known for his friendship with Benjamin Siegel (who hated to be called “Bugsy,” by the way,) I suppose what sets Cohen apart from so many others of his ilk is that he died peacefully in his bed, at the age 62. There had been nine separate attempts on his life during his lifetime, so you might say this guy was extraordinarily lucky to have survived them all.
Cohen is very matter of fact in his descriptions of mob hits – even hits on his own guys. When someone had to be killed, more ofen than not he says the guy “had to have his lights out.” While he certainly enjoyed beating up people – he was only 5’3″, yet he was a terrific fighter who had fought many times as a boxer when he was younger. Still, quite often, while he was beating the crap out of someone – and could easily have killed whoever it was he was mauling, he would hold off. It was just business – you understand. The next day, he would often sit down with the same guy he had just about killed – hey, just because you had to teach someone a lesson didn’t mean you couldn’t still be friends.
I suppose one way you could describe Mickey Cohen was “cruel, but fair” – if you can accept that there is an accepted code of conduct among mobsters.
But, in reading his colourful autobiography, one chapter jumped out for me. Cohen’s being Jewish almost never comes into play in any of the stories he tells. He doesn’t describe having family gatherings during Jewish holidays, for instance and, as for attending synagogue – forget about it.
Other than his preferring to be in the company of other Jews – in the same way that Italian and Irish gangsters also prefer to associate with individuals with whom they share common backgrounds, there wasn’t much about Mickey Cohen that made him seem Jewish – other than his name.
It was in the year 1947, however, that Mickey Cohen’s otherwise totally submerged Jewish identity came to play a prominent role in leading him to become heavily involved in the fight that was going on at that time between Jewish groups and British soldiers in what was then British Mandate Palestine.
Mickey Cohen describes how he first became aware that Jews were trying to get the British kicked out of Palestine. He explains that he had a friend by the name of Mike Howard, who introduced Cohen to the famous Hollywood screenwriter Ben Hecht (of whom Mickey Cohen had never heard. As you might expect, MIckey Cohen was hardly what you would call “worldly,” although he did enjoy the company of many famous Hollywood celebrities, including Frank Sinatra, Sammy Davis Jr., and for a time, Lana Turner – with whom he had a love affair.)
In any event, here’s how Cohen explains what led to his becoming a strong supporter of the Irgun (a para-military force that fought against the British, but which was also a rival to the Haganah, the widely recognized Jewish military force established prior to Israel’s establishment as an independent state and which became Israel’s de facto army during the 198 War of Independence.)
“Mike knew that I would do anything for a cause that was right, and particularly Jewish causes. So they come back and we sit down to talk. And the guy tells me this story about the Haganah, which was organized by the David Ben-Gurion guy. And he tells me especially about the Irgun and the type of war they’re fighting against the British, and they type of guys they are and all this. And I got high on him.
“But you know when you’re kinky, your mind runs kinky. I still figured this must be a racket thing. So I says to the guy, ‘Lookit, I don’t know nothing about these things. I didn’t even know there was a war going on in Israel. Let me think it over.’ “
Later, Cohen explains that he was invited over to meet with someone from the Irgun: “This guy (from the Irgun) got me so goddamn excited. He started telling me how these guys actually fight like racket guys would. They didn’t ask for a quarter and they gave no quarter.”
Cohen goes on to describe how he got quite caught up in raising funds for the Irgun: “Now I got so engrossed with Israel that I actually pushed aside a lot of my activities and done nothing but what was involved with this Irgun war. It’s a nature of mine, see. Either I go whole hog or nothing. So I got involved with this goddamn Israel war…”
He goes on to tell how incensed he was when the British hanged three Irgun members. He warned Ben Hecht that unless the Irgun got a hold of three British officers and hanged them in the same public square as where the Jewish kids from Irgun were hanged, “that’s going to be the end of my involvement with it.”
“And they done it. They hung up some British officers right in the public square.”
The same chapter describes how, with the help of some of his Mafia buddies out East, like Albert Anastasia, they were able to get a hold of a lot of U.S. army surplus that had come back from World War II and was destined to be mothballed, but instead a lot of it was sent to Israel because the Mafia controlled all the docks on the Eastern seaboard.
Why am I writing about Mickey Cohen? you might be asking yourself. Well, it’s the same reason that when I write about what went on during Israel’s War of Independence I say there’s a lot we don’t like to admit happened. I don’t want to revisit all those arguments over the “Nakba” and what happened to the Palestinians. I just thought it extraordinarily interesting to introduce one little known aspect of that war – and that was how Mafia types – some Jewish, some Italian, lent their support to Jews fighting, first against the British, then later against the Arabs.
Just as my story about Zwi Migdal exposes a little known side of Jewish history – including how cruel Jews can be to their own fellow Jews, writing about a famous Jewish mobster may awaken some people to the realization that not all Jews aspire to “Tikkun Olam,” which is a phrase we hear repeatedly is the maxim by which Jews should live. No – there is a very dirty side to Jewish history, but one we should not shy away from examining. I don’t suppose you’re ever going to hear a sermon from any rabbi about Zwi Migdal or Jewish gangsters though. It doesn’t really jive with the notion that Jews are righteous and the “People of the Book.”

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Hamilton Hebrew Academy refuses to let 2 Jewish students enrol – because their mother had a Conservative, not an Orthodox conversion

Rabbi Daniel Green, Dean of Hamilton Hebrew Academy (YouTube screenshot)

By BERNIE BELLAN (This story was originally posted July 14)

Hamilton Hebrew Academy

From time to time we receive a request to do an investigative piece about one matter or another. Before I even begin to entertain following up on that type of request I pose quite a few questions to the person or persons who sent me the request. I also send copies of whatever it is that I might consider publishing to subjects of the story for them to comment prior to its publication.

Recently I was contacted by a former member of our Winnipeg Jewish community by the name of Fabio Chusyd, who now lives in Hamilton with his wife, Soraya, and their two daughters (whose names will not be given here.)

Fabio Chusyd first contacted me on July 7. Here is what he wrote in an email:

“My name is Fabio Chusyd. We met years ago while I was living in Winnipeg, and I have always respected your work. My family and I are active members of the Jewish community in Hamilton.

“Hamilton Hebrew Academy is the only full-time Jewish day school in Hamilton. It shares its premises with Adas Israel Congregation, an Orthodox synagogue, and its Dean is Rabbi Daniel Green.

“At the same time, its mission states that it is “dedicated to fostering an inclusive learning environment that welcomes and embraces children and their families from diverse Jewish affiliations and backgrounds.”

“Our daughters, (names redacted) have experienced antisemitism in the public school system, which is why we sought a safe Jewish educational environment. They have received Jewish education at home and through Temple Anshe Sholom. …. also previously attended HHA’s daycare, where Saraya’s Conservative conversion was known and accepted. The girls were invited to visit the school, met the teachers, toured the classrooms, and naturally became excited about attending. They were then ultimately denied admission.

“After two meetings with Rabbi Green much of the discussion focused on Saraya’s Conservative conversion and our willingness to pursue an Orthodox conversion path. Shortly afterward, our daughters were denied admission.

“I lawfully recorded both meetings under Ontario’s one-party consent law. We later submitted six written questions seeking clarification of the decision, but the school declined to answer any of them, stating only that it had nothing further to add.

“The Hamilton Jewish News declined to publish our family’s response, which is why I am reaching out to you.”

I responded to Fabio and asked him whether he might consider trying to contact the Canadian Jewish News and ask them to do a story about his family’s situation – since the CJN website is by far the most important Jewish website in Canada, also Hamilton is only a short distance from Toronto, so it made more sense to try to get the CJN to cover the story.

Fabio wrote back: “Following your suggestion, I have also reached out to the Canadian Jewish News. I wanted to let you know out of courtesy.”

In a later email Fabio elaborated on the Hamilton Jewish News’ refusal to do a story about what had happened to his family. Further, the Hamilton Jewish Federation had also refused to intervene in the situation. By the way, the Hamilton Jewish News is run by the Hamilton Jewish Federation.

I found that all so surprising. And yet, while Hamilton is far removed from Winnipeg physically, a fair number of former members of Winnipeg’s Jewish community have moved to Hamilton in recent years. Hamilton now has a Jewish population over 5,000 and it has become a popular alternative destination for families looking for a cheaper place to live than Toronto. I was quite surprised that both the Hamilton Jewish Times and the Hamilton Jewish Federation had refused to delve into what had happened to the Chusyds. So, I told Fabio that I would be willing to write an article, but only after a thorough investigation of what had happened.

Hamilton actually has two Jewish day schools: the aforementioned Hamilton Hebrew Academy and a school called Kehila Heschel School. Hamilton Hebrew Academy offers classes from JK- Grade 8 (It also may be adding a Grade 9 this coming year.) and has approximately 200 students. On its website HHA describes itself as “dedicated to fostering an inclusive learning environment that welcomes and embraces children and families from diverse Jewish backgrounds.”

There is another important aspect to Hamilton Hebrew Academy. It is directly connected – both physically and spiritually, to Hamilton’s Orthodox synagogue, the Adas Israel. Here is what I was able to find about that connection: “The Hamilton Hebrew Academy (located at 60 Dow Ave) is located adjacent to and was founded by the Adas Israel Congregation (located at 125 Cline Ave S).

“The Orthodox synagogue established the school decades ago to serve the community, and they often share leadership; for instance, the spiritual leader of Adas Israel serves as the Dean of the academy.” (That last point is key to understanding what has happened to the family in this story.)

The other Jewish school in Hamilton, Kehila Heschel School, bills itself as an “independent, egalitarian, community school that welcomes families from the full spectrum of Jewish life” but, as was previously noted, it had only 35 students this past year, according to Fabio Chusyd.

One other point of interest from a Winnipeg perspective: The CEO of Hamilton’s Jewish Federation (until he retired in April) was Gustavo Rymberg. Like the Chusyds, Gustavo and his family first moved to Winnipeg after having emigrated from South America in the early 2000s. I wonder how Gustavo would have reacted to what has happened to the Chusyds? By the way, the new CEO of the Hamilton Jewish Federation, Marion Zeller, does not take over her role until August 10, 2026.

In a subsequent email, Fabio Chusyd elaborated on what happened after the family had been invited to visit Hamilton Hebrew Academy:

“What happened is that they invited the girls to visit the school, they were welcomed by students and the principal – who happens to be a rabbi as well.

“We explain (to)…- the rabbi of the synagogue (who is also) dean of the school that we are happy at the reform synagogue. But he made it mandatory to join the orthodox synagogue with openess to a future orthodox conversion.”

Fabio Chusyd recorded two conversations Rabbi Green had with Fabio and Soraya Chusyd. Fabio sent me transcripts of both conversations – one recorded on June 26 and one on July 2. In both conversations Rabbi Green hinted quite strongly – without ever spelling it out as a direct stipulation, that in order for the Chusyds’ daughters to be allowed to enrol in HHA, Soraya Chusyd would have to undergo an Orthodox conversion and the Chusyds would have to join Adas Israel Congregation.

On July 6 the father received a Whatsapp message from Rabbi Green:

“Hi Fabio,

“I just wanted to give you a headsup. Kym (Gazda, the director of admissions for HHA) will be sending an official email from the school. Based on our conversations, I don’t think the school is the right fit at this time. If you have a change of heart, pls let me know. Wishing you much success.”

That ‘change of heart” apparently referred to Soraya’s reluctance to undergo an Orthodox conversion. In a subsequent email Fabio Chusyd explained that his wife did not want to go through another conversion process after having been converted by a Conservative rabbi in South America. Further, the couple was reluctant to leave their Reform congregation and join the Orthodox Adas Israel congregation, which also seemed to be a prerequisite to their daughters’ being able to enrol in Hamilton Hebrew Academy

Just as Rabbi Green’s email was opaque, the email from the director of admissions was equally opaque in not offering a specific reason for the school’s refusal to admit the Chusyds’ two girls this coming school year. Here is what Kym Gazda wrote in an email on July 7:

“Dear Mr. and Mrs. Chusyd,

“Thank you for your interest in Hamilton Hebrew Academy and for taking the time to meet with us.

“Upon careful consideration, and based on the information provided, we are unfortunately unable to accept …. to the HHA for the 2026–2027 academic year.

“Should anything change, please feel free to let us know, and we would be happy to reconsider your application at that time.

“We wish you and your family all the best.”

I received a further email from Fabio Chusyd, in which he reprinted the Hamilton Jewish News’ editor, Wendy Schneider’s response, also dated July 7, to his request that the paper consider doing a story about what happened to him and his family:

“Dear Mr Chusyd Thank you for this note. I appreciate how deeply upsetting and frustrating this is for you.  As I explained yesterday, at this time, I feel I cannot act without advice from the Federation CEO because of the nature of your complaint i.e. a local issue. I sincerely hope this issue is resolved to your satisfaction. Unfortunately, for now, there’s nothing I can do at this point to help ease your distress. “

In response, Fabio Chusyd wrote to Wendy Schneider:

“Thank you for your time on the phone yesterday and for your supportive words.

“However, several years ago, you published a letter titled “Censorship Has No Place in Our Community.” Yet by not allowing me to use the online letters section, you are effectively censoring my voice.

“The slogan of the Hamilton Jewish News is “The Voice of Jewish Hamilton.” By refusing to publish or even accept my letter, you are silencing a member of the very community the publication exists to serve.

“How does this decision align with the principles of free expression and with the mission of your newspaper?”

This was all so puzzling. Here we have a case of a couple with two young children whom they would like to attend a Hamilton Jewish school – and the school simply turns them down flat – without any explanation beyond saying the “school is not the right fit at this time.” It seems clear though that the mother’s refusal to undergo an Orthodox conversion and the parents’ unwillingness to join the Adas Israel Congregation were key to the school’s decision not to accept the couple’s children as students this coming school year.

Now, ordinarily, one might expect that after receiving a slap in the face like that, the parents of the girls would simply say they’ve had enough of that – and resign themselves to sending their daughters back to public school.

But, when I asked Fabio Chusyd why he and his wife were so eager to send their daughters to HHA – or whether they had perhaps considered sending their daughters to Kehila Heschel School , here is what Fabio wrote back:

“We did consider Kehila Heschel School. We visited a few years ago, but with only about 35 students in the entire school, we didn’t feel it was the right fit for our girls. For us, school also means exposure to a larger group of children and a broader social environment. HHA has over 200 students. Also HHA appears to be opening a Grade 9, so I am thinking long-term. 

“… is going into Grade 4 and … into Grade 2. As a family of immigrants without an extended support network here, we felt it was important for both girls to attend the same school.

“And then we had moved them out of HHA daycare because our local public school is only five minutes from our home.

“Oct. 7 happened, antisemitism reappeared, and the girls were victims. Hence, HHA that call themselves open to all Jewish affiliations seemed to be the safe spot. Rabbi Green and Kim Gayza were told that the girls had been victims of antisemitism. Mainly …, who gave Hanukkah goodie bags last year and her classmates ripped it, spitted on it and throw them in the garbage, while saying offences.”

There is another factor that one might consider in this entire matter. According to its own annual report, the Hamilton Jewish Federation provided $289,000 in funding for the Hamilton Hebrew Academy for the fiscal year ending June 30, 2025, so the HHA is hardly operating independently of the Hamilton Jewish Federation.

It may not be the place of the publisher of a Winnipeg website that focuses to a large extent on the Winnipeg Jewish community to poke into the affairs of another Jewish community such as Hamilton’s, but where that community’s Jewish newspaper refuses to delve into what appears to be a clear case of wrongdoing by a Jewish institution and, as of writing this, the Hamilton Jewish Federation has also refused to intervene in this matter, then we thought it an important enough issue to broach on this website.

We contacted both Hamilton Hebrew Academy and the Hamilton Jewish Federation, offering them an opportunity to respond to this article prior to its being published.

On July 21, we received a response from Rabbi Green:

Hamilton Hebrew Academy’s inclusive character and the diversity of its parent and student body are well known throughout the community. Our families include individuals from a wide range of Jewish backgrounds, including converts of all denominations, and many who are not Jewish whatsoever.  The school is family-oriented, where we strive to be on a journey of growth togther. (emphasis mine)

“Through Project Lifeline, HHA has also taken a leading role in supporting children who experience antisemitism in public schools, particularly those who may be the only Jewish student in their school or community. For this purpose, we operate transportation routes serving students from Niagara, Kitchener-Waterloo, and other communities outside Hamilton, and provide free bus service and often tuition.  This project, I believe, is unprecedented in North America and speaks to the proactive nature of our school in supporting Jewish students at risk. “

I responded to the rabbi:

“With all due respect Rabbi, your email here would seem to directly contradict how you behaved with respect to the Chusyd family. If there is some reason that you have turned down the two Chusyd girls for enrolment in your school – but you are not at liberty to discuss that reason, then I could include that in what I publish.

“But – as it stands, the only reason that I have seen in your correspondence with the Chusyds. is that you don’t think it would be “a good fit” for the Chusyd children to attend HHA.

“I am going to give you every opportunity to explain what you meant by writing that, but I would suggest your latest response is somewhat disingenuous.”

The rabbi responded:

“As I mentioned, I am not at liberty to discuss the admission decision of any specific child or family. “

Also in an email sent to Fabio Chusyd on July 21, Rabbi Green wrote:

“Our position remains unchanged. As previously indicated, Hamilton Hebrew Academy will not engage in public discussion regarding the admission of any individual applicant or family. We have nothing further to add on this matter.”

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The horrifying story of how thousands of Polish Jewish women were forced into prostitution in Argentina by a Jewish organization known as “Zwi Migdal”

Members of Zwi Migdal following their arrests in 1939

By BERNIE BELLAN Often the most interesting story ideas come in the oddest of circumstances.
Such was the case recently when I was attending the unveiling of an old friend. The rabbi who was officiating at the unveiling was Rabbi Anibal Mass.

Rabbi Anibal Mass

Following the unveiling I walked over to Rabbi Mass to say hi. We were engaging in an amiable conversation when out of the blue he asked me: “Have you ever heard of Zwi Migdal?”
“Zwi Migdal?” I answered. “What is a Zwi Migdal?”
Rabbi Mass proceeded to tell me a story that I found so utterly amazing I told him that I would definitely follow it up – and write about it.
Zwi Migdal, Rabbi Mass explained to me, was the name of a leader of Argentinean Jewish gangsters who had originally come from Poland – thus the name of the group came from his name.
But it was the principal activity in which those gangsters were engaged that I found so horrifying, and almost unbelievable: They lured young Jewish women from Poland into coming to Argentina with promises that they would find work there – perhaps as au pairs or as seamstresses, but once they arrived to Argentina they were forced into prostitution.
They were forcibly kept in brothels and warned that if they ever tried to escape they would be hunted down and forced back. The enforced confinement of thousands of Jewish women in brothels in Argentina occurred over a very long period – from the 1860s to 1939.
According to Wikipedia, “During the 1920s the organization grew to its largest-ever size. At its height, 430 individuals, acting as pimps and in other criminal roles, oversaw a network of 2,000 brothels and approximately 4,000 women in Argentina alone.”
There were also branches of Zwi Migdal in other countries, including Brazil, the United States , Poland, South Africa, India and China.
Actually, if you want to read a detailed description of how Zwi Migdal operated, the entire Wikipedia article lays it out in graphic detail, including the modus operandi that Jewish pimps in Poland used to lure young women – who almost always came from poor families where the opportunity to have a better life in Argentina was so alluring that thousands of women fell prey to those false promises

Now, there was a reason Rabbi Mass brought up the story of Zwi Migdal in a cemetery. As he told me more about what happened in Argentina – and I was quite stupefied by the story he was telling me, he explained that eventually – and it was as a result of one very brave woman by the name of Raquel Liberman, that the members of Zwi Migdal were finally brought to justice.
Over 100 of them were put on trial – but even though many of them were convicted and sentenced to prison, the judicial system in Argentina was so corrupt that all but three were released from prison in short order. However, the public outcry over the release of all those pimps was so huge that justice officials were forced to rescind their releases. Many of them ended up moving to Uruguay.

An overhead view of the cemetery in which members of Zwi Migdal are buried which shows the wall erected around their graves (Photo courtesy of Rabbi Mass)

It was what happened to them when they ended up being buried in one particular cemetery in Buenos Aires, Rabbi Mass told me, that was so unusual – and was the reason he was telling me this particular story in a cemetery: They were all buried in one section of that cemetery and a huge wall was built around the area of their graves – so as to forever cordon them off from the rest of the cemetery.
Something else that Rabbi Mass mentioned to me during our conversation was that Orthodox conversions are not allowed in South America. I asked him why that was? He said it was because many Jewish men had been marrying non-Jewish women who had gone through a “conversion of convenience.”
Here’s what I found when I asked AI why Orthodox conversions are not allowed in South America:
“Mainstream Orthodox communities in Latin America are traditionally highly tight-knit and conservative. Local leadership often uses the restriction to filter out ‘conversions of convenience’ (converting solely to marry a Jewish partner). By requiring candidates to travel to Israel or North America for final conversion, authorities ensure the applicant has the financial means, intense dedication, and long-term commitment required to live an Orthodox life.”
Later that same day Rabbi Mass sent me even more information about Zwi Migdal, including a link to a movie about Raquel Liberman on Vimeo. The movie is called “Raquel: a marked woman.”

Raquel Liberman with her 2 sons

The movie is somewhat of a docudrama in that it intersperses actual footage from the early 20th century with dramatizations of Raquel Liberman’s life in Argentina. Her courage in defying the gangsters who were forcing her to work as a prostitute is something to behold.
Another fascinating aspect of Zwi Migdal is that, while its members were held in total contempt by mainstream Argentinean Jewish society, they were able to fashion their own separate society, including building their own Orthodox synagogue – for which they had rabbis who were willing to serve as rabbis despite knowing what complete degenerates the members of Zwi Migdal were.
The notion that there was a Mafia type organization made up entirely of Jews is not in itself so difficult to comprehend. After all, there is a long tradition of Jewish gangsters; Murder Incorporated, for instance, which was made up of murderers for hire, was a Jewish organization.
But to think that hundreds of Jewish men – for a period lasting almost 70 years, were engaged in forcing young Polish Jewish women into prostitution? I was so amazed by the story Rabbi Mass told me that when I told him I would just have to write about that story, he responded that “This is worth, at least, a Limmud session.”
I responded in kind, saying that while it was something I would certainly consider proposing to the organizers of Limmud, rather than me conducting a session about Zwi MIgdal, given his own South American background, he would be far more suited to telling the story of Zwi Migdal at Limmud. Wouldn’t that be fascinating? 

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