Features
Winnipeg and Israel

La vie se rétracte ou se dilate à proportion de notre courage.
Anaïs Nin (1903 – 1977)
By Dr. DAVID HOULT Israel has come of age among the nations of the world. After almost two thousand years of yearning, it can now join the ranks of those that ply power and pain. It is an odd conceit for most of us, for we imbibed so thoroughly from childhood the notions of Jewish vulnerability, suffering and solidarity, the need for self-sufficiency and circling the wagons when attacked. The foundation of a Jewish state came as the Great Hope, a shining star, the salvation from the wreckage of the Holocaust: a Jewish liberal democracy with a military having sterling and stirring ideals standing alone in a rough Middle-East neighbourhood. It appeared to many to be a miracle, and Judaism intertwined with Zionism and state to create a pinnacle of pride and pilgrimage – a tool of God to promote Their divine scheme, and to initiate the return of the Jews to the land They promised to Abraham, Isaac and Jacob.
But now, many of us are troubled. We fear deep down that Israel has gone astray, but are scared to confront the possibility, scared to give The Enemy ammunition if we say anything. So in our pain, we punish those who give even a hint of voicing dissent and fall back on our conceit. We defiantly, and somewhat desperately, have declarations of loyalty and synagogue security committees to keep traitors and Enemies out of our holy places, continue to sing Hatikvah, pray for the IDF and are hyper-vigilant for any sign of anti-Semitism. Underneath though, the stress born of dichotomy grows as we watch the apocalypse that is Gaza, massive demonstrations in Tel Aviv, Jew attacking Jew in Ra’anana, and settlers in the West Bank strutting, scaring, slinging stones and even slaying.

Politically, the seeds of our distress can be traced back over a hundred years to the Balfour Declaration. Based on the anti-Semitic assumption that Jews had great financial clout, it was one long, carefully crafted, vague and contradictory sentence (67 words) designed to enhance British influence in the Middle East. Zionists seized upon the ambiguous phrase “national home for the Jewish people” but carefully ignored the clause “… it being clearly understood that nothing shall be done which may prejudice the civil and religious rights of existing non-Jewish communities in Palestine …”. (Notably, nothing about political rights was included.) Soon, even President Roosevelt was declaring that “Palestine must be made a Jewish State”. Unsurprisingly, there was vocal opposition from most of the local inhabitants (over 90% Arab) and the situation quickly proved untenable. One British historian1 has declared that “measured by British interests alone, [the declaration was] one of the greatest mistakes in [its] imperial history.”
When the British threw up their hands and withdrew from Palestine, the United Nations proposed a partition of the land; the Arab League strongly objected and when the State of Israel was declared in 1948, as every Jewish child knows, the War of Independence began. But by the end of the war, Israel had triumphed; it held about 78% of Palestine and about 750,000 inhabitants had become refugees, a figure confirmed by many Israeli historians. Notwithstanding the details of how they had been exiled, they were not allowed to return. They were scapegoats sent into the wilderness for the sins of the Germans, and it is this refusal that laid the essential foundation of ethnic Jewish statehood – a Jewish majority. And that majority increased: by 1951, the population of Israel was expanded by the immigration of 700,000 Jews, some, ironically, expelled from Arab states in retaliation, thereby enhancing the ethnic imbalance.
I once asked a Palestinian attendee at the Nobel Prize ceremonies in Stockholm for how long her people would try to get their homes and land back and her bitter response was “For ever!” My response was “A bit like we Jews.” But stop for a moment of empathy. In the Talmud, Hillel says: “Don’t do to your neighbour what you wouldn’t have him do to you.” Those 750,000 people suffered the same fate as many Jews under the Romans, traumatised and wretched, filled with hate, anger and despair. But it was war and those sort of rules don’t apply, do they? Do they? For in the aftermath of the Holocaust, Jews were in no mood for the niceties of Torah compassion and empathy: a Jewish state was desperately needed. So what if we didn’t let them back in? Their leaders collaborated with the Nazis, didn’t they? And so the seeds of catastrophe were planted.
If we fast forward, thanks to further wars instigated and lost by the Arabs, Israel now controls almost the whole of what was once Palestine. However, notwithstanding the further exodus of refugees (numbers vary), Jews are no longer in the majority and the presence of so many Palestinians in the West Bank and Gaza represents a huge obstacle to the re-creation of “the promised land”. This is a problem that many in their heart of hearts would love to see go away – but how? By fair means or foul?
Thus we come to the latest attempt to punish Israel which, I believe, is succeeding beyond Hamas’s wildest dreams. Why do I say that? Because Israel’s reaction to Hamas’s attack can be shown to violate its own historical and religious ethics and guidelines for the conduct of war. It places itself, by its own standards, firmly in the wrong and as a result, the nation is tearing itself apart and taking the Diaspora with it. To take just one example, from the Rambam2:

“When a siege is placed around a city to conquer it, it should not be surrounded on all four sides, only on three. A place should be left for the inhabitants to flee and for all those who desire, to escape with their lives.” Or how about the next verse: “We should not cut down fruit trees outside a city nor prevent an irrigation ditch from bringing water to them so that they dry up”? In other words, confinement and starvation are out as tactics of war for Jews.
There is, however, a far more basic, ancient and raw imperative, and that is lex talionis: “An eye for an eye …”. It is found in several places in Torah and also in the earlier Code of Hammurabi. (If you are ever in Paris, do see the stunning Hammurabi stele in the Louvre.) The Pharisees maintained that this law was not to be taken literally and referred to appropriate financial compensation. However, let us be gruesome and take it literally. On one side of the scales of justice we have the killing by Hamas of 1,195 people, the taking of 250 hostages, dozens of rapes and sexual assaults and immeasurable anguish, trauma and misery. What shall we place on the other side of the scale? Let us start with the report by the Associated Press that somewhere between three to four thousand Gazan children have suffered amputations, sometimes without anaesthetics. Meanwhile, the Gazan Health Ministry has released the names of 5,000 children under the age of six who have been killed. Are children The Enemy? We must also add to the balance the thousands of adults who have died and the hundreds of thousands suffering without shelter. We are commanded in the Torah “Justice, justice you shall pursue”. Even if the numbers are exaggerated, is the maiming and killing of children justice? What a wonderful way to create a new generation of terrorists thirsting for revenge!
There are those who claim that the Palestinians are part of the seven biblical nations that Joshua was commanded to wipe out. However, this claim was put to rest as long ago as 100 CE when Rabbi Yehoshua declared that the “seven nations” were no longer identifiable.

Inconveniently, David Ben-Gurion and Yitzhak Ben-Zvi, in a book published in 19183, even believed that the Palestinian peasant population (fellahin) was descended from the ancient biblical Hebrews, and there is some genetic evidence to support this position. Nevertheless, in 2007, Mordechai Eliyahu, the former Sephardi Chief Rabbi of Israel wrote in a letter to Prime Minister Olmert that4 “an entire city holds collective responsibility for the immoral behavior of individuals. In Gaza, the entire populace is responsible because they do nothing to stop the firing of Kassam rockets.”. His son, the chief rabbi of Safed, wrote: “If they don’t stop after we kill 100, then we must kill a thousand. And if they do not stop after 1,000 then we must kill 10,000. If they still don’t stop we must kill 100,000, even a million. Whatever it takes to make them stop.” Only now, however, have a few Gazans had the great courage to protest Hamas, an organisation that in the past has attacked, abducted, tortured and murdered those who stand up to them, including members of the Palestinian Authority5. Would you or I risk torture and death to confront such rulers? I doubt I would have the courage. Would you? Thus does evil ever flourish.
Let us be clear: Gaza is controlled by a vicious fundamentalist movement that in its charter calls for the destruction of Israel. But the more the Gazans are carpet bombed and killed, the more Hamas will gain supporters – young men who have seen mothers, fathers, sisters, brothers and cousins maimed and dismembered and want revenge. Quite apart from questions of morality, the annihilation is just plain dumb!
As the years of this century pass, how shall we possibly believe a new “promised land” could materialise? It would take a new Sodom and Gomorrah. The Arab states have learnt their collective lessons regarding military force and Israel is now Goliath to their slingless David. So, unless Israel feigns weakness (and notwithstanding Iran), it is highly unlikely that a new war will arise to give a pretext for expelling millions from the West Bank. Instead, harassment seems to be the method du jour as new settlements are built, land is appropriated and people are slowly forced into cities and refugee camps, or to other countries such as Canada – to Winnipeg, even. Of course Ben-Gurion’s “peasants” are going to strike back! Is harassment an honourable tactic? Is this loving one’s neighbour as oneself? Ah, but they aren’t neighbours you see, they are The Enemy, for they ambush innocent people and kill pregnant women6. Thus does evil ever flourish.
So here, in a distant country, we sit and watch, a community torn in two. Where do our loyalties lie? As you may have gathered from my quotations, I am a religious Jew who believes that our ethics must be derived from Torah and Talmud. I am a member of a synagogue, but a synagogue that refuses to admit anyone who is perceived to be The Enemy, and a member of a community that states “With Israel, For Israel. Always.” Where do my loyalties lie? Where should they lie? For me, there can no doubt – unequivocally with a Higher Authority, an Authority that demands at the pinnacle of Torah, slap dab in its middle, that I must love my neighbour as myself. That means gently arguing with the racist down the street, having kind words for the Indigenous family pushing back against subtle discrimination and trying to console the Palestinian who is mourning the death of his nephew in Gaza. But there is more.
The Talmud tells us7: “If (anyone) is in a position to protest the sinful conduct of the people of his town, and he fails to do so, he is apprehended for the sins of the people of his town. If he is in a position to protest the sinful conduct of the whole world, and he fails to do so, he is apprehended for the sins of the whole world.” Thus I protest the actions of my synagogue in keeping people out, I protest the actions of my community and I protest the actions of Israel because it is part of this world and it is sinning. It really is that simple – see wrong, protest, for God’s sake (literally), rather than keeping quiet and putting support for Israel first. Torah has an old-fashioned word for such misguided loyalties – idolatry. To quote Abraham Joshua Heschel: “God is not nice. God is not an uncle. God is an earthquake” that shakes us out of our complacency and challenges us first and foremost to reason – to think and analyse, not just feel, using Torah as our guide.
But there is yet more, and it is something we can do in Winnipeg. The same Talmud also states8: “Who is richest of all, …. Some say: One who can turn an enemy into his friend.” And how does one do that? Surely, there can only be one way to begin: by talking – by talking with The Enemy right here in town with empathy for their suffering. That means striving not to be ruled by fear, but taking one’s courage in both hands, being prepared to be made very uncomfortable, to confront other people’s truths. I do not have to agree, I do not have to like it, but I do have to listen. And one day, just possibly, there might be areas of agreement, even friendship, where the seeds of reconciliation are irrigated and can grow and bear fruit, for if God is prepared to reason with us (Isaiah 1, 18), surely we can reason with one another? Can’t we?
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David Hoult, a physicist who is one of the original developers of the MRI, is the recipient of numerous awards, including the community’s Shem Tov award for his work in helping secure kashrut in the city. He lives in Winnipeg with his wife and children.
1 Monroe, E. Britain’s Moment in the Middle East, 1914–1971. Johns Hopkins University Press (1981).
22 Mishneh Torah, Kings and Wars 6
33 Erets yisroel in fargangenheyt un gegenvart: geografye, geshikhte, rekhtlekhe ferheltnise, bafelkerung, landvirtshaft, handl un industri (The land of Israel past and present: geography, history, legal circumstances, population, agriculture, business, and industry), with three maps of the country and eighty pictures of Israel (New York, 1918),
Hebrew translation, 1980, pp. 196–200 (in Hebrew).
44 Wagner M., Jerusalem Post, May 30th, 2007.
55 https://www.amnesty.org/en/latest/news/2015/05/gaza-palestinians-tortured-summarily-killed-by-hamas-forces-during-2014-conflict/
66 https://www.bbc.com/news/articles/cvgq89yd7p7o
77 Shabbat 54b, 20
88 Avot d’Rabbi Natan 23
Features
100-year-old Lil Duboff still taking life one day at a time

By MYRON LOVE Last march, Lil Duboff celebrated her 100th birthday in a low key manner.
“I have always been a laid back kind of person,” says the Shaftesbury retirement home resident. “I just celebrated with my family.”
Lil Duboff’s life journey began in Russia in 1925. “I was six months old when we came to Winnipeg,” she says. “Most of my extended family had come before. We were supposed to leave Russia at the same time, but my mother was pregnant with me and my parents waited until after I was born.”
The former Lil Portnoy, the daughter of Hy and Pessie, grew up the youngest of five siblings in a large and loving family in the old north end Jewish community. Upon his arrival in Winnipeg, her father, Hy, joined his father, Jack, and his brothers, Nathan and Percy, in the family business, Perth’s Cleaners, which was established in 1914.
Following the education path of most Jewish Winnipeggers in the period between the wars and into the 1950s, Duboff started her schooling at Peretz School – although she attended William Whyte School for most of her elementary schooling, supplemented by evening classes at Peretz School – followed by Aberdeen School and St. John’s Tech for high school.
The family, she recalls, belonged to the Beth Jacob Synagogue on Selkirk Avenue.
After completing high school, Duboff took a business course and joined the workforce. She first worked at Perth’s, then Stall’s, and lastly, Silpit Industries – which was owned by Harry Silverberg. (Harry Silverberg was one of the wealthier individuals in our community and a community leader who contributed generously to our communal institutions.)
It was while working at Silpit Industries that Lil Portnoy met Nathan Duboff. “Nathan worked in the shipping department,” she recalls. “We dated for three or four years before getting married.”
They wed in 1953 at the Hebrew Sick Hall on Selkirk Avenue. The bride was pregnant soon after and quit work to look after her family. The couple had three children: Chuck, Neil and Cynthia.
The family lived in the Garden City area. While Nathan continued to work for Harry Silverberg for a time – at his Brown and Rutherford lumber business, he later moved to Portage Lumber as sales manager, and then Dominion Lumber, finally retiring as sales manager for McDermot Lumber in 1995.
During those years Lil did what many married Jewish women did and put her time in as a volunteer with different Jewish organizations. She served as president of the Chevra Mishnayes Congregation sisterhood and the ORT chapter to which she belonged. She also volunteered with B’nai B’rith Women and Jewish Child and Family Service.
Her leisure activities included playing mahjong with friends and enjoying – with Nathan – the ballet and the symphony. There were also all the holiday gatherings with the extended family and summers spent at the family cottage in Gimli.
In the mid-1980s, Lil and Nathan sold their Garden City home and moved to a condo on Cambridge in the south end. After Nathan’s sudden passing in 2003, Lil continued living at Cambridge Towers until three years ago when her declining physical health required her to move into assisted living at the Shaftesbury.
While Lil Duboff suffers from many of the complaints of old age, such as limited eyesight and hearing, and other health issues, she retains a clear and positive frame of mind. She appreciates that her children all still live in Winnipeg and visit frequently. She happily reports that she also has five grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.
“It’s different living here (at the Shaftesbury),” she observes. “I don’t see as many people as I used to. But I am accepting my limitations and take life one day at a time. You never know what tomorrow might bring.”
Features
The First Time: A Memoir

By DAVID R. TOPPER Nearly every life has a series of “first times,” no matter how long or short one lives. The first day of school, or the first bicycle – these quickly come to mind. Probably because of the deep and wide reading I’ve been doing for a story I wrote, I recalled another “first” in my life. It came to me with the same chill up my spine as on the day it happened. And that was long ago.
I’m now into my early 80s and this event is from the late 1960s when I was finishing my PhD, which required that I pass a second language test. It was the last essential test, since I was finishing up my dissertation. In the early 1960s, as an undergraduate, I had taken German for the language requirement and naturally I opted for German for the graduate requirement too. Relevant here is the fact that of all the undergraduate courses I took, the only subject for which I had poor grades was – you guessed it? – German, where I got less than As and Bs.
On the day appointed, I walked across campus to the German department and took the test. The task was to translate a page of text. I can’t recall the content or anything about it. But the result was sent to me and – I suppose not surprisingly – I didn’t pass. I was informed that I could make an appointment with a member of the department to go over the test and to get some tutoring to help me prepare for another try.
But where is the “first in my life” that this memoir is all about? As said above, I only recently recalled this “first.” The trigger was a newscast that Yale University professor Timothy Snyder was moving to the University of Toronto because of the recent presidential elections in the USA. This caught my attention because his monumental book, Black Earth, on the Holocaust in the shtetls of Eastern Europe during World War II, was so crucial to that story I wrote. Thus, my subconscious kicked in and that newscast led me back to when I met the tutor.
Frankly, I don’t remember much about that day. Not the time of year, or the weather. Except that I again walked across campus, this time to meet my German tutor. Even so, I only remember three things about the tutor – beyond the fact that it was woman. She was much older than me and she spoke with a thick accent.
We sat at a table, she to my left, and in front of us on the table was my translation sheet covered with corrections in red; the original German text was beside it, to the right. Slowly she went over my translation, pointing out my mistakes. I sat, focusing on what I did wrong and listening to her suggestions for what I should have done – when, for a brief moment, she reached across my sheet to point to a German word in the original text. With her left hand and her bare arm right in front of me – I saw something on the underside of that arm.
At the time, I knew about this. I had read about it. But back in the late 1960s I had never seen it for real – in the flesh. Really. Yes, “in the flesh” isn’t a metaphor. Indeed, I’m getting the same chill now just thinking about it, as I did when I saw it – for the first time.
On the inside of that arm, she had a tattoo – a very simple tattoo – just a five-digit number. Nothing else.
I was so rattled by this that I couldn’t focus on what she was saying anymore. The tattoo blurred out much of everything else for the rest of the day.
Fortunately, this happened near the end of our meeting, and I apparently absorbed enough of her help so that when I did take the test the second time – I passed. And here I am: a retired professor after many years of teaching.
Even today, that first tattoo is still seared in my mind. Oh, and that’s the third thing I’ll always remember about the tutor who helped me pass that key test on the road to my PhD.
Features
Japanese Straightening/Hair Rebonding at SETS on Corydon

Japanese Straightening is a hair straightening process invented in Japan that has swept America.
