Features
Haskel Greenfield peers into the mouths of donkeys (and other critters) for new information concerning Bronze Age civilization in Middle East
By MYRON LOVE There is a Biblical story doubtless known to regular shul goers in which an ass talks. For those readers who are not familiar with it, the story can be found in Numbers 23-35 in the Torah.
In short, Balak, the King of Moab, is terrified of the Israelites who are growing in power. He calls upon the prophet Balaam to put a curse on the Israelites. The Lord appears to the prophet in a dream and warns him not to go. Nonetheless, Balaam, persuaded by Balak’s promise of riches, sets out on his trusty donkey. En route, an angel of the Lord armed with a sword, blocks the way. The donkey sees the angel and refuses to go on. Three times, the donkey refuses to move and three times Balaam whips the beast.
Finally, the Lord opens the donkey’s mouth to speak and the animal asks Balaam why he keeps beating his trusty servant. At that moment, Balaam’s eyes are also open and he see the angel who instructs him to deliver the words of praise from the Lord to the Israelites for Balak.
Well, in a similar vein, internationally-known archaeologist Haskel Greenfield is also looking to the stories that donkeys have to tell as to the development of the evolution of Middle Eastern society during the early Bronze Age circa 2500-2600 BCE.
Greenfield is a long time University of Manitoba professor. He has the rank of Distinguished Professor, of which there are only 25 at the university. He is also Coordinator of the Judaic Studies Program at the U of M and Co-Director of the Near Eastern and Biblical Archaeology Lab at St. Paul’s College.
This past April, Greenfield, along with colleague Dr. Tina Greenfield (his wife and collaborator, at U. of Saskatchewan), and Professors John Wilkins (U. of M.) and Elizabeth Arnold (Grand Valley State University), and Gideon Hartman (University of Connecticut) – received a $393,960 Insight Grant from the Social Sciences and Humanities Research Council of Canada to study how early complex societies were provisioned during the Early Bronze Age (3600-2000 BCE) in the southern Levant. This was the time of the first cities developing in the region.
The scholars are using a unique approach by focusing on the movement of biological goods and transport, particularly through the major forms of transportation in those days, i.e., donkeys. By the analysis of the teeth of donkeys, sheep, goats, and other livestock, they will be able to understand where the animals were born, and how they were raised, fed, and cared.
Since 2008, the Greenfields and their students have been working on the site known as Tell es-Safi, about 30 (45 km) miles southwest of Jerusalem, known in ancient times as Gath, the hometown of Goliath of David-and-Goliath fame. “We finished our excavations in 2017,”Haskel Greenfield says. “For the past four years, we have been working in our lab, analysing and cataloguing our findings. While we have published dozens of articles already on the project, we will have our first volume out by the end of the year – with hopefully two or three more to follow. The site was so rich that we recovered more information from it than ever expected. It is taking years to process and write up the data”.
One of the unexpected finds from the Tell es-Safi work that the Greenfields encountered was the discovery of several complete donkey burials. “The burials weren’t random,” Greenfield notes. “They were buried in shallow graves beneath the floors of houses, but close to the periphery of the site.” The locations of these burials, he surmises, may be an indication of merchant quarters that were common to cities already in ancient times.
“Our analysis of the isotopes on animal teeth have shown that while there is evidence that sheep and goats were raised locally, the over half the donkeys (and one goat) came from elsewhere, specifically Egypt,” he observes. They were born and raised in Egypt, and slaughtered soon after arriving at the site of Tell es-Safi.
“As the era we are studying is still considered prehistoric in that neither cuneiform, hieroglyphics, nor evidence of any other form of writing for this period throughout the region. Based on our discoveries at Tell es-Safi, we are trying to extend our research across the region – by looking at the animal remains from many sites across the length and breadth of ancient Canaan. We will be able to learn quite a bit from the donkeys and other animals about such things as trade, migration, food, and even climate.”
“We are trying to identify their ages and sex and learn how they were raised, what they ate, how they were managed, and where they came from. At different sites, some animals may have come from Egypt, while others may have a Mesopotamian connection. The region alternated between being within the spheres of influence of the two major early civilizations, depending which was stronger at any given time.”
Greenfield reports that his research team is expanding its investigation into the lives of donkeys and other animals beyond Tell Es-Safi/Gath to other urban centres in the region. He notes that at around 2500 BCE, all the large cities in the region collapsed and were abandoned. “We (archaeologists) aren’t sure why this happened,” he says. “We have found no evidence of destruction. We only know that around 2200 BCE, there was a major drought in the region. But, this is too late to be the cause of the urban collapse 300 years before. Hence we are trying a new approach by examining the isotopes in animal teeth to see if they record shifts in water and vegetation that might signal a change in climate.”
While the popular image of the working archaeologist is someone on his hands and knees sifting dirt at a potential site, Greenfield notes that, as he is almost 68 now, his days of working on digs are likely behind him. “Two years ago, I was invited to work at the famous archaeological site of Tell Beth Shemesh,” he says, “but, regrettably, the director of the dig recently passed.”
He adds that he still has a lot of lab work ahead of him, and years of writing. That includes analysing material from excavations, not only in Israel, but also in Jordan. “I was hoping to be in Israel this summer, but family affairs (the passing of his younger brother, Avi) and the pandemic made it impossible. I am hopeful that I will be able to visit Israel in the fall, and the sites in Jordan next spring,” he says hopefully. When doing this kind of work, one must always be hopeful”.
Features
Digital entertainment options continue expanding for the local community
For decades, the rhythm of life in Winnipeg has been dictated by the seasons. When the deep freeze sets in and the sidewalks become treacherous with ice, the natural tendency for many residents—especially the older generation—has been to retreat indoors. In the past, this seasonal hibernation often came at the cost of social connection, limiting interactions to telephone calls or the occasional brave venture out for essential errands.
However, the landscape of leisure and community engagement has undergone a radical transformation in recent years, driven by the rapid adoption of digital tools.
Virtual gatherings replace traditional community center meetups
The transition from physical meeting spaces to digital platforms has been one of the most significant changes in local community life. Where weekly schedules once revolved around driving to a community center for coffee and conversation, many seniors now log in from the comfort of their favorite armchairs.
This shift has democratized access to socialization, particularly for those with mobility issues or those who no longer drive. Programs that were once limited by the physical capacity of a room or the ability of attendees to travel are now accessible to anyone with an internet connection.
Established organizations have pivoted to meet this digital demand with impressive results. The Jewish Federation’s digital outreach has seen substantial engagement, with their “Federation Flash” e-publications exceeding industry standards for open rates. This indicates a community that is hungry for information and connection, regardless of the medium.
Online gaming provides accessible leisure for homebound adults
While communication and culture are vital, the need for pure recreation and mental stimulation cannot be overlooked. Long winter evenings require accessible forms of entertainment that keep the mind active and engaged.
For many older adults, the digital realm has replaced the physical card table or the printed crossword puzzle. Tablets and computers now host a vast array of brain-training apps, digital jigsaw puzzles, and strategy games that offer both solitary and social play options.
The variety of available digital diversions is vast, catering to every level of technical proficiency and interest. Some residents prefer the quiet concentration of Sudoku apps or word searches that help maintain cognitive sharpness. Others gravitate towards more dynamic experiences. For those seeking a bit of thrill from the comfort of home, exploring regulated entertainment options like Canadian real money slots has become another facet of the digital leisure mix. These platforms offer a modern twist on traditional pastimes, accessible without the need to travel to a physical venue.
However, the primary driver for most digital gaming adoption remains cognitive health and stress relief. Strategy games that require planning and memory are particularly popular, often recommended as a way to keep neural pathways active.
Streaming services bring Israeli culture to Winnipeg living rooms
Beyond simple socialization and entertainment, technology has opened new avenues for cultural enrichment and education. For many in the community, staying connected to Jewish heritage and Israeli culture is a priority, yet travel is not always feasible.
Streaming technology has bridged this gap, bringing the sights and sounds of Israel directly into Winnipeg homes. Through virtual tours, livestreamed lectures, and interactive cultural programs, residents can experience a sense of global connection that was previously difficult to maintain without hopping on a plane.
Local programming has adapted to facilitate this cultural exchange. Events that might have previously been attended by a handful of people in a lecture hall are now broadcast to hundreds. For instance, the community has seen successful implementation of educational sessions like the “Lunch and Learn” programs, which cover vital topics such as accessibility standards for Jewish organizations.
By leveraging video conferencing, organizers can bring in expert speakers from around the world—including Israeli emissaries—to engage with local seniors at centers like Gwen Secter, creating a rich tapestry of global dialogue.
Balancing digital engagement with face-to-face connection
As the community embraces these digital tools, the conversation is shifting toward finding the right balance between screen time and face time. The demographics of the community make this balance critical. Recent data highlights that 23.6% of Jewish Winnipeggers are over the age of 65, a statistic that underscores the importance of accessible technology. For this significant portion of the population, digital tools are not just toys but essential lifelines that mitigate the risks of loneliness associated with aging in place.
Looking ahead, the goal for local organizations is to integrate these digital successes into a cohesive strategy. The ideal scenario involves using technology to facilitate eventual in-person connections—using an app to organize a meetup, or a Zoom call to plan a community dinner.
As Winnipeg moves forward, the lessons learned during the winters of isolation will likely result in a more inclusive, connected, and technologically savvy community that values every interaction, whether it happens across a table or across a screen.
Features
Susan Silverman: diversification personified
By GERRY POSNER I recently had the good fortune to meet, by accident, a woman I knew from my past, that is my ancient past. Her name is Susan Silverman. Reconnecting with her was a real treat. The treat became even better when I was able to learn about her life story.
From the south end of Winnipeg beginning on Ash Street and later to 616 Waverley Street – I can still picture the house in my mind – and then onward and upwards, Susan has had quite a life. The middle daughter (sisters Adrienne and Jo-Anne) of Bernie Silverman and Celia (Goldstein), Susan was a student at River Heights, Montrose and then Kelvin High School. She had the good fortune to be exposed to music early in her life as her father was (aside from being a well known businessman) – an accomplished jazz pianist. He often hosted jam sessions with talented Black musicians. As well, Susan could relate to the visual arts as her mother became a sculptor and later, a painter.
When Susan was seven, she (and a class of 20 others), did three grades in two years. The result was that that she entered the University of Manitoba at the tender age of 16 – something that could not happen today. What she gained the most, as she looks back on those years, were the connections she made and friendships formed, many of which survive and thrive to this day. She was a part of the era of fraternity formals, guys in tuxedos and gals in fancy “ cocktail dresses,” adorned with bouffant hair-dos and wrist corsages.
Upon graduation, Susan’s wanderlust took her to London, England. That move ignited in her a love of travel – which remains to this day. But that first foray into international travel lasted a short time and soon she was back in Winnipeg working for the Children’s Aid Society. That job allowed her to save some money and soon she was off to Montreal. It was there, along with her roommate, the former Diane Unrode, that she enjoyed a busy social life and a place for her to take up skiing. She had the good fortune of landing a significant job as an executive with an international chemical company that allowed her to travel the world as in Japan, Hong Kong, New Zealand, Australia, Mexico, the Netherlands and even the USA. Not a bad gig.
In 1983, her company relocated to Toronto. She ended up working for companies in the forest products industry as well the construction technology industry. After a long stint in the corporate world, Susan began her own company called “The Resourceful Group,” providing human resource and management consulting services to smaller enterprises. Along the way, she served on a variety of boards of directors for both profit and non-profit sectors.
Even with all that, Susan was really just beginning. Upon her retirement in 2006, she began a life of volunteering. That role included many areas, from mentoring new Canadians in English conversation through JIAS (Jewish Immigrant Aid Services) to visiting patients at a Toronto rehabilitation hospital, to conducting minyan and shiva services. Few people volunteer in such diverse ways. She is even a frequent contributor to the National Post Letters section, usually with respect to the defence of Israel
and Jewish causes.
The stars aligned on New Year’s Eve, 1986, when she met her soon to be husband, Murray Leiter, an ex- Montrealer. Now married for 36 plus years, they have been blessed with a love of travel and adventure. In the early 1990s they moved to Oakville and joined the Temple Shaarei Beth -El Congregation. They soon were involved in synagogue life, making life long friends there. Susan and Murray joined the choir, then Susan took the next step and became a Bat Mitzvah. Too bad there is no recording of that moment. Later, when they returned to Toronto, they joined Temple Emanu-el and soon sang in that choir as well.
What has inspired both Susan and Murray to this day is the concept of Tikkun Olam. Serving as faith visitors at North York General Hospital and St. John’s Rehab respectively is just one of the many volunteer activities that has enriched both of their lives and indeed the lives of the people they have assisted and continue to assist.
Another integral aspect of Susan’s life has been her annual returns to Winnipeg. She makes certain to visit her parents, grandparents, and other family members at the Shaarey Zedek Cemetery. She also gets to spend time with her cousins, Hilllaine and Richard Kroft and friends, Michie end Billy Silverberg, Roz and Mickey Rosenberg, as well as her former brother-in-law Hy Dashevsky and his wife Esther. She says about her time with her friends: “how lucky we are to experience the extraordinary Winnipeg hospitality.”
Her Winnipeg time always includes requisite stops at the Pancake House, Tre Visi Cafe and Assiniboine Park. Even 60 plus years away from the “‘peg,” Susan feels privileged to have grown up in such a vibrant Jewish community. The city will always have a special place in her heart. Moreover, she seems to have made a Winnipegger out of her husband. That would be a new definition of Grow Winnipeg.
Features
Beneath the Prairie Calm: Manitoba’s Growing Vulnerability to Influence Networks
By MARTIN ZEILIG After reading Who’s Behind the Hard Right in Canada? A Reference Guide to Canada’s Disinformation Network — a report published by the Canadian AntiHate Network that maps the organizations, influencers, and funding pipelines driving coordinated right wing disinformation across the country — I’m left with a blunt conclusion: Canada is losing control of its political story, and Manitoba is far more exposed than we like to admit.
We often imagine ourselves as observers of political upheaval elsewhere — the U.S., Europe, even Alberta.
But the document lays out a sprawling, coordinated ecosystem of think tanks, influencers, strategists, and international organizations that is already shaping political attitudes across the Prairies. Manitoba is not an exception. In many ways, we’re a prime target.
The report describes a pipeline of influence that begins with global organizations like the International Democracy Union and the Atlas Network. These groups are not fringe. They are well funded, deeply connected, and explicitly designed to shape political outcomes across borders. Their Canadian partners translate global ideological projects into local messaging, policy proposals, and campaign strategies.
But the most concerning part isn’t the international influence — it’s the domestic machinery built to amplify it.
The Canada Strong and Free Network acts as a central hub linking donors, strategists, and political operatives. Around it sits a constellation of digital media outlets and influencer accounts that specialize in outrage driven content. They take think tank talking points, strip out nuance, and convert them into viral narratives designed to provoke anger rather than understanding.
CAHN’s analysis reinforces this point. The report describes Canada’s far right ecosystem as “coordinated and emboldened,” with actors who deliberately craft emotionally charged narratives meant to overwhelm rather than inform. They operate what the report characterizes as an “outrage feedback loop,” where sensational claims spread faster than journalists or researchers can contextualize them. The goal is not persuasion through evidence, but domination through repetition.
This is not healthy democratic debate.
It is a parallel information system engineered to overwhelm journalism, distort public perception, and create the illusion of widespread grassroots demand. And because these groups operate outside formal political structures, they face far fewer transparency requirements. Manitobans have no clear way of knowing who funds them, who directs them, or what their longterm objectives are.
If this feels abstract, look closer to home.
Manitoba has become fertile ground for these networks. Our province has a long history of political moderation, but also deep economic anxieties — especially in rural communities, resource dependent regions, and areas hit hard by demographic change. These are precisely the conditions that make disinformation ecosystems effective.
When people feel unheard, the loudest voices win.
We saw hints of this during the pandemic, when convoy aligned groups found strong support in parts of Manitoba. We see it now in the rise of local influencers who echo national talking points almost in real time. And we see it in the growing hostility toward institutions — from public health to the CBC — that once formed the backbone of civic trust in this province.
CAHN’s research also shows how quickly these networks can grow. Some nationalist groups have seen membership spikes of more than 60 percent in short periods, driven by targeted digital campaigns that exploit economic uncertainty and cultural anxiety. These surges are not organic. They are engineered.
The document also highlights the rise of explicitly exclusionary nationalist groups promoting ideas like “remigration,” a euphemism for mass deportation of nonEuropean immigrants. These groups remain small, but Manitoba’s demographic reality — a province where immigration is essential to economic survival — makes their presence especially dangerous. When extremist ideas begin to circulate within mainstream political networks, they gain a legitimacy they have not earned.
Even more troubling is how these ideas migrate.
CAHN warns that concepts once confined to fringe spaces are now being repackaged in sanitized language and pushed through influencers, think tanks, and political operatives seeking legitimacy. When these narratives appear alongside conventional policy debates, they gain a veneer of normalcy that obscures their origins.
None of this means Manitoba is on the brink of political collapse.
Our institutions remain resilient, and our political culture is still fundamentally moderate. But sovereignty is not just about borders or military power. It is also about information — who controls it, who manipulates it, and who benefits from its distortion. When opaque networks shape public opinion through coordinated disinformation, that sovereignty erodes.
CAHN’s broader warning is that trust itself is under attack. Farright networks intentionally target public institutions — media, universities, public health agencies, cultural organizations — because weakening trust creates a vacuum they can fill with their own narratives. A democracy becomes vulnerable when people no longer share a common set of facts.
The danger is not that Manitoba will suddenly adopt the politics of another country. The danger is that we will drift into a political environment shaped by forces we don’t see, don’t understand, and cannot hold accountable. A democracy cannot function if its information ecosystem is captured by actors who thrive on outrage, opacity, and division.
The solution is not censorship. It is transparency. It is rebuilding trust in journalism. It is demanding higher standards from the organizations that shape our political discourse. Manitobans deserve to know who is influencing their democracy and why.
We are not immune.
And believing we are immune is the most dangerous illusion of all.