Features
Monitored phone calls and fear of arrest: What life looks like for Iran’s Jews now
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
Amid the war in Iran, one Iranian Jewish woman who lives in the United States, but whose family remains in Iran, has been wracked with fear. Before the ceasefire, she spoke with her parents once a week for exactly one minute — both because of the exorbitant cost, about $50 per minute, and because of the fear of surveillance.
During one call a few days into the war, she said, something felt off.
“I could see that something is so wrong. It’s as if someone was there,” the woman, who moved to the U.S. in 2008, said in an interview with the Forward. “It seemed like my mom was actually reading from a note.”
She later learned that the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps had come to her parents’ home, questioning why they frequently called an American number. They instructed her parents to download Bale, an Iranian messaging app widely believed to be monitored by authorities, before making any further calls.
“It’s a spy app, and everyone knows that,” the woman said with a wry laugh. Her parents refused. Instead, they were told to call their daughter and read from a script while IRGC members watched.
“Basically, they said to prove that you are with us and not with Israel, read this when you call her,” the woman said. “After that day, they didn’t call for a long time.”
Eventually, she learned that her parents had fled to a safer part of the country to escape bombardment.
Her family are among the estimated 10,000 Jews who still live in Iran, in the largest Jewish community in the Middle East outside of Israel. Once numbering around 120,000, the community has dwindled significantly since the 1979 Islamic Revolution, when life for religious minorities fundamentally changed. Today, Jews who remain in Iran must carefully navigate life under the regime, publicly expressing loyalty to avoid being falsely accused of Zionist espionage.
Amid Iran’s war with the U.S. and Israel, that pressure has intensified.
With an ongoing internet blackout, communication is limited and closely monitored. To understand what life is like for Iranian Jews today, I spoke with several people in the U.S. who remain in sporadic contact with family members inside Iran. Everyone interviewed requested that they not be identified, fearing repercussions for either themselves or their families.
A synagogue vigil for the Supreme Leader
On April 16, Tehran’s Yusef Abad synagogue held a memorial for Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, who was killed on the first day of the war. The event was attended and reported on by several state-affiliated media channels, filming as participants from Iran’s Jewish community shared their appreciation for the deceased Supreme Leader.
Inside and around the synagogue, posters featuring photos of Khamenei were displayed alongside Farsi slogans like “Unity of Iran’s faiths against aggression — condemnation of the attack on the Tehran synagogue by the child-killing Zionist regime and criminal America” and “The Jewish faith is separate from Zionism.”
Regime media pointed to the vigil as evidence of Jewish support for Iran’s theocratic government. But experts say that interpretation misses the reality.
Beni Sabti, an Iranian-born analyst at Tel Aviv’s Institute for National Security Studies, said displays like the synagogue vigil are often a matter of survival. Jews who remain in Iran are frequently compelled to demonstrate loyalty to the regime — and opposition to Israel — in order to avoid suspicion of having ties to Israel. Allegations of such ties have often led to imprisonment and executions following the Islamic Revolution in 1979.
To protect the community, Jewish leaders — especially rabbis — often participate in pro-regime events, including memorials for senior regime figures. In some cases, Iranian rabbis have even sat alongside members of Hamas and Hezbollah to pay their respects to senior IRGC commanders responsible for funding and training terror groups across the Middle East.
The regime exerts significant pressure to stage these displays, Sabti said, “because it’s good for them to show the world, ‘You see, we don’t oppress anyone.’”
Beyond public displays, much of Iran’s economy is tied to the state — what officials often describe as a “resistance economy.” In that system, some say, expressions of loyalty can become intertwined with economic survival.
The woman who left Iran in 2008 said one of her relatives was once pressured to confiscate land from dozens of people and transfer it to the government in order to keep his job — a loyalty test she says was especially harsh because of his Jewish identity. “In the job interview, they told him, you have a Jewish background, so you have to first prove how far you will go,” she explained.
Since the 12-Day War between Israel and Iran in June 2025, the situation has grown even more tense. More than 30 Jewish Iranians were reportedly detained during that conflict because of alleged contact with Israel. While some Jewish community members were arrested during the wave of anti-regime protests that occurred at the beginning of the year, Sabti said he has not heard of a similar wave of arrests during the current war.
Still, the fear remains.
Synagogues as shelter
Some Iranian Jews have managed to stay in touch with relatives via landline phones, although calls are expensive and likely monitored. Most avoid discussing politics, using their limited time simply to confirm they are alive.
“After the 12-Day War, people really didn’t talk on the phone,” said the woman who moved to the U.S. in 2008. “We do talk, it’s not like they literally cannot, it’s just like they realized that the scrutiny was so high that no one has meaningful conversations.”
Even so, fragments of sentiment emerge.
One 25-year-old Iranian Jew from Los Angeles said his Jewish cousins in Iran cried tears of joy when they heard of the Ayatollah’s death.
He said his great uncle and cousin told him over the phone, “I don’t care, whatever the cost. If you can eliminate Khamenei, if you can eliminate Mojtaba, his son, if you can eliminate any threat… do it.” He added, “Most Persian Jews in Iran are happy, is what I hear.”
Amid the current ceasefire, a 64-year-old Iranian Jewish woman from LA said her Jewish friends in Iran have expressed relief. “They are happy that the situation is calm, but on the other hand, nobody is happy. They all want it to get finished,” she said, adding that they hope for “regime change.”
For Nora, an Iranian Jew living in New York, the war has come at a time of crisis for her family in Iran. She says her aunt has been focused on caring for her son, who is suffering from bone marrow cancer. Because the family keeps kosher, her aunt has had to leave the house — even during bombardments — to ensure he has food and other necessities.
Around three weeks into the war, her house in Tehran was destroyed after a nearby police station was struck. She briefly moved into a local synagogue; now, she lives with another Jewish family who opened their home to her. Her son remains too sick to leave the hospital.
A synagogue destroyed
Nora’s aunt is not the only Iranian Jew to find shelter in a synagogue. Sabti heard from another Jewish family inside Iran that Jewish communities have been using synagogues as bomb shelters throughout the war. He recalled doing the same during his youth at the time of the Iran-Iraq war that began in 1980.
Beyond using the space for physical safety, synagogues have also become a place for Jews to be together during the difficult time. “They come just to gather there, passing the time, meeting and having a little bit better time together,” he said.
For members of the Rafi’ Nia synagogue, a 150-year-old religious institution in Tehran, this sense of comfort has disappeared. On April 6, the community gathered there for Passover services. The next morning, they learned the building had been destroyed by an Israeli strike.
The Israel Defense Forces said that the target of the strike was not the synagogue, but rather a top commander from Khatam al-Anbiya, Iran’s military emergency command. But Iranian media suggested that the IDF had intentionally targeted the building. The head of the synagogue made a statement condemning the attacks and wishing the Iranian regime success in the war.
The woman who immigrated in 2008 had visited the Rafi’ Nia synagogue during Passover around 10 years ago. She described it as a beautiful old building. Seeing images of its destruction brought back painful memories of her family’s past.
She and her family were forcibly converted to Islam around 70 years ago, she said, with one uncle publicly hanged after he refused to convert. Her family continued practicing Judaism in secret — celebrating Shabbat behind locked doors and in her grandmother’s basement, always afraid.
She believes her family became a target for conversion after the synagogue in their area was destroyed, leaving them without formal affiliation to a recognized religious institution. On two occasions, she said, the IRGC raided their home during Jewish holidays, searching for evidence of religious practice. When they found a menorah, her father was detained. “When my dad came back, he was a ghost.” She fears that members of the destroyed synagogue could now face a similar vulnerability.
In Iran, certain religious minorities, including Jews, are constitutionally recognized. But she says that their protection is closely tied to existing institutions.
“When we talk about the lack of protection, it has a very nuanced meaning. In Iran, this doesn’t mean that the synagogues cannot exist, but it means that the existing synagogues are the only legal protection that Jews do have,” she said. “Good luck with rebuilding that place. Good luck with asking for a new synagogue.”
Sabti said the regime has already used the synagogue’s destruction as propaganda, publicly condemning the attack while reinforcing the state narrative of religious inclusion. “The head of the Islamic clerics condemned Israel and paid condolences to the Jews,” he said. “Everyone pays condolences and says, ‘Oh, sorry, we are in this together’ … but everyone knows that the other one also is lying.”
An American Jewish detainee
For one Iranian American Jew, the war has made a dire situation worse.
Kamran Hekmati, a 70-year-old Iranian American from Great Neck, New York, traveled to Iran in June 2025 and was detained during the 12-Day War. According to advocates, his alleged crime was traveling to Israel 13 years earlier for his grandson’s bar mitzvah.
Kieran Ramsey of the Global Reach advocacy group, who represents Hekmati’s family, said in an interview that Kamran being the Iranian regime’s only Jewish American prisoner puts him in a particularly precarious position. “There can be risk of retribution or reprisals against him at any moment,” Ramsey said, “from prison guards or other prisoners…his identity certainly puts him at higher risk.”
On March 16, almost three weeks into the war, Secretary of State Marco Rubio designated Hekmati as wrongfully detained, a status that allows the federal government to deploy all possible levers — diplomatic, legal, and economic — to secure his release. Ramsey says that change in designation is helpful, but only goes so far.
His organization is now pushing for the release of all American prisoners in Iran to be an integral part of the U.S.-Iran negotiations to end the war.
“Our hope is that Kamran Hekmati and the other Americans that are being held are put to the front of the list in terms of issues to decide, and not as a deal sweetener,” he said adding, “We know the U.S. negotiators have a list of American names. We know Kamran is at the top of that list…. We also know there are some very rational actors inside the regime, and we are trying to convince them that you have a no-cost way to open doors. Use Kamran as that no-cost way.”
The last time the woman who emigrated in 2008 visited Iran was two years ago. Even then, she worried that photos taken of her in the U.S. wearing a Jewish star necklace might draw the regime’s suspicion.
Now, she believes whatever space existed for quiet concessions from the Iranian government to Jews may disappear. The regime’s efforts to retain a firm grip on the Iranian people following January’s massive anti-regime protest wave and the war pose new risks.
“Just because of everything that has happened… I’m sure that any type of like ‘OK, let this go,’ ‘Let this person go,’ will end,” she said.
“Now I know that I could not go back,” she added. “I really feel if the Islamic Republic stays — and they probably have a good chance of staying — I feel like I lost Iran.”
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
New book highlights relationship between Kabbalah and science
By MYRON LOVE In his new book, “The Relativity of Death: Part One: Basic Principles of Kabbalah of Information. Complete Theory of Information Space, Miracles and Maxwell’s Demon,” Dr. Eduard Shyfrin demonstrates the complementary relationship between Kabbalah – the ancient practice of Jewish mysticism – and science.
“The Relativity of Death” is a follow up to “From Infinity to Man: the Fundamental Ideas of Kabbalah Within the Framework of Information Theory and Quantum Physics,” Shyfrin’s previous work on the subject, which he published in 2018.
In his introduction to “The Relativity of Death”, the author, himself a scientist by training – observes that while “science is absolutely necessary for humankind, it nevertheless does not constitute the whole truth. Science is morally neutral,” he continues. “Two plus two equals four is neither good nor bad. Science doesn’t provide an answer to the basic questions about our existence: Why are we here? What is our mission? How should we live? Do we have a freedom of choice? Why are we destined to die? And finally, the famous question posted by Gottfried Leibniz as to why is there something rather than nothing?
“I believe that it is impossible and wrong to try to describe Creation while at the same time excluding the Creator.
“When I started reading the works of kabbalists,” he notes, ‘I realised that Kabbalah is deeply ‘scientific,’ that it is a theory of Creation of which our Universe is just a part. Kabbalah is not a textbook – it doesn’t provide equations and laws. Instead, it’s a live body comprised of the teachings and opinions of kabbalists, which often diverged.
“The main notions of Kabbalah,” he writes, “for example the notion of light, are not well defined. As the great kabbalist Rabbi Moshe Hayyim Luzzatto explained in his book, “Philosopher and Kabbalist,” the notion of ‘Light has no definition and is used as some sort of synonym for G-dliness.
“The original works of kabbalists,” he points out, “are very difficult to read and comprehend, since the main ideas are usually expressed through allegories, parables and hints. This makes them largely inaccessible to contemporary readers. With this in mind, I attempted to create the Theory of Kabbalah of Information based on traditional Kabbalah, Theory of Information and the body of scientific knowledge accumulated by humankind, written in simple language accessible to the reader.”
Eduard Shyfrin is a remarkable individual – a man of many parts. In addition to his roles as scientist and author – he has also published a children’s book – the Ukrainian-born Shyfrin is a musician who writes his own words and music, a billionaire, and an important community leader who generously supports his fellow Ukrainian Jews and our Israeli homeland.
Growing up during the last years of the Soviet Union though, it comes as no surprise that he knew nothing about Judaism except that he was Jewish. In the Soviet Union, being Jewish was simply a label that kept you from being accepted into top universities and leadership roles.
“We tried to hide out Jewishness,” he recalls. “I wanted to be a physicist but wasn’t accepted into university.”
Instead, he followed in his father’s footsteps and became a metallurgist. In 1983, he started work at a Ukrainian steel plant. Over the next few years, he was promoted from assistant foreman to manager to head of marketing.
He was able to earn a PhD in physical chemistry in 1993.
In 1993, he changed jobs – becoming a representative in Ukraine of a Hong Kong-based company called Linkfull. He was responsible for buying steel for export. In 1994, he joined forces with Alex Schnaider and co-founded a company called the Midland Group, with partner Alexander Shnaider. The company deals in steel, shipping, real estate, agriculture and sport ventures.
Shyfrin’s interest in Judaism was sparked by the arrival of Chabad rabbis in the lands of the former Soviet Union in the mid 1990s and, in particular, Rabbi David Bleich, the Chief Rabbi of Ukraine. Shyfrin recalls that Rabbi Bleich got him involved in Jewish charities. He helped rebuild the oldest synagogue in Kiev, provided funds for the Jewish schools in the city, and and financed the construction of the Jewish Education Centre in Kiev, which was dedicated to his late father.
Still, Shyfrin remained largely secular.
It was in 2002, he recalls, that he experienced a midlife crisis when he began questioning the meaning of life – and death.
“My rabbi,” he says, “encouraged me to commit to a more Jewish lifestyle. I began keeping kosher, putting on tefillin and studying Torah. I found in my Torah study that there were a lot of contradictions and inconsistencies in what I was reading in the Torah and what I had learned as a scientist.”
Shyfrin began to find his answers in Kabbalah, which he approached through a scientific perspective. As a result , he came to understand kabbalah and reality as “fundamentally information based and that physics and Torah describe different layers of the same structure”.
That epiphany led to his first book, which has sold around 8,000 copies. He followed up the book’s success by writing numerous articles for the Jerusalem Post. Shyfrin also gives a yearly lecture in London, where he now makes his home.
He is also the founder of the Shyfrin Alliance, an initiative dedicated to advancing understanding of Jewish mysticism and spiritual thought.
Alongside his delving into Jewish mysticism, Shyfrin remains very much involved in the real world and the crises affecting Israel, the Jewish people, and his Ukrainian homeland. He currently serves as Vice President of the World Jewish Congress, representing Ukraine. He continues to fund Jewish schools, synagogues and community centres across Ukraine and Russia.
Since the invasion of Ukraine, Shyfrin has helped finance evacuations of Jewish elderly people and children to Hungary and Israel and continues to support communities on a monthly basis.
“For me, a Jew is a Jew,” he has been quoted as saying. “It does not matter where he lives. We are one family.”
As for the rising antisemitism in Europe, he points out that – unlike the 1930s – today, we have Israel.
“Israel is our country and we must be strong enough to protect it,” he is quoted as saying..
“The Relativity of Death” was released in February, and, Shyfrin reports, has already sold over 5,000 copies. The book is available on Amazon and Kindle.
Features
Manitoba Has No iGaming Framework. So Where Are Winnipeg Players Actually Gambling Online?
Ontario’s regulated iGaming market hit a 91.1% channelization rate in May 2026, according to an AGCO/Ipsos study. Meaning nine out of ten Ontario players who gamble online are doing so through a licensed, registered operator. That’s a real number, and it took years of regulatory architecture to get there. Manitoba has none of that architecture. Zero. There’s no provincial iGaming framework, no registered operator list, and no equivalent to the iGaming Ontario regime that launched in April 2022. So when Winnipeg players open a browser and look for somewhere to play, they’re not choosing between regulated sites. They’re choosing between offshore ones.
For players trying to make sense of that offshore market, the most practical move is to compare no verification casinos side by side. Withdrawal speeds, licensing jurisdiction, and bonus terms vary far more than most review sites admit. A Curaçao-licensed site and a Malta Gaming Authority-licensed site can look identical on the homepage and behave completely differently when you try to withdraw CAD on a Sunday night.
Why Manitoba Is Still Waiting
The short answer: political will and provincial lottery revenue protection. Manitoba Liquor & Lotteries (MBLL) runs PlayNow.com, which is the province’s only officially sanctioned online gambling platform. It’s a Crown corporation product. Expanding regulation to private operators means cannibalizing that revenue stream, and no provincial government has been willing to absorb that trade-off yet.
Alberta moved first, announcing in 2024 that it would follow Ontario’s open-market model. The Jewish Post covered the Alberta question in its opinion piece on provincial iGaming regulation. Saskatchewan and British Columbia have their own Crown-run online products. Manitoba? MBLL runs PlayNow, and that’s where the conversation stops.
The practical consequence is straightforward. PlayNow offers a limited game library, deposit methods that exclude several major e-wallets, and. Critically. A full KYC process that requires government-issued ID before a player can withdraw. For anyone who has spent time on offshore platforms, PlayNow’s withdrawal processing feels closer to a 2009 bank wire than a modern iGaming product.
What ‘No Verification’ Actually Means
The term gets used loosely, so let’s be precise. No-verification casinos. Sometimes called no-KYC casinos. Don’t require you to upload a passport or utility bill to open an account and withdraw. Most operate on a tiered model: you can deposit and withdraw up to a threshold (often around C$2,000 to C$5,000 cumulative) without identity documents. Go above that, and they’ll ask for verification at that point.
That’s meaningfully different from a blanket “no ID ever” claim, which doesn’t really exist at licensed operators. Any site claiming zero KYC under all circumstances is either very small, unlicensed, or not being straight with you about their AML obligations.
The ones worth looking at are licensed under jurisdictions that actually enforce standards. Curaçao eGaming being the most common for Canadian-facing sites, Malta Gaming Authority and Isle of Man for the better-resourced operators. Licensing matters because it determines what happens when a dispute arises. A Curaçao license at least gives you a complaints pathway. No license gives you nothing.
The Real Variables Winnipeg Players Should Check
Withdrawal speed is where most offshore sites either earn or lose the trust. I’ve tested CAD withdrawals via Interac e-Transfer on three different offshore platforms in the last six months. Two cleared within 90 minutes on a weekday. The third flagged my withdrawal for a manual review that took four business days and required a second round of document uploads. Same deposit method, very different outcomes.
Bonus terms are the other landmine. A 100% match up to C$500 sounds good until you read the wagering requirement. Anything above 35x on slots. And some no-verification sites are running 45x or 50x. Makes the bonus money functionally worthless unless you’re grinding low-volatility games for hours. The max bet cap during bonus play is equally critical. C$5 per spin on a C$500 bonus means you need 100 spins minimum just to cycle through once, and the dead spins add up fast.
Payment method availability for Canadian players specifically is worth a dedicated check. Not every offshore site offers Interac. Some push crypto as the primary withdrawal rail, which works fine if you’re comfortable converting CAD to USDT and back. But adds friction and exchange rate risk most players don’t account for. A few have added MuchBetter and eZeeWallet as alternatives, which process faster than bank transfers and don’t trigger the same scrutiny from Canadian banks that some gambling-coded transactions do.
The Legal Position for Manitoba Players
This comes up constantly, and the honest answer is that Canadian gambling law places regulatory authority under provincial jurisdiction, meaning the federal Criminal Code doesn’t prohibit individuals from playing at offshore sites. It prohibits operating an unlicensed gambling business in Canada. Players are not operators. No Canadian has been prosecuted for accessing an offshore gambling site.
That said, “not illegal” and “fully protected” are different things. If an offshore operator disappears with your funds, you have limited recourse. If a withdrawal is declined and the operator ghosts your support ticket, no provincial regulator is going to intervene on your behalf the way the AGCO can intervene for an Ontario player. You’re relying on the operator’s licensing body, which may or may not respond in a useful timeframe.
Gowling WLG’s 2025 analysis of Manitoba’s enforcement posture notes that the province has moved against offshore operators directly. Including action against Bodog. But has taken no steps toward building a regulatory framework that would bring players back onto licensed domestic ground. The enforcement is pointed at operators, not players, and it hasn’t changed what’s available to Winnipeg residents looking for alternatives to PlayNow.
Where This Lands
Manitoba’s regulatory gap isn’t closing soon. Alberta’s framework is still being built. The realistic picture for Winnipeg players in 2026 is that offshore, no-verification operators remain the de facto alternative to PlayNow. And the quality gap between a well-run licensed offshore site and a badly run one is significant enough that doing due diligence before depositing is not optional.
Check the license, read the withdrawal terms before the bonus terms, and know your method’s processing time. The market isn’t going away; it’s just not regulated to protect you yet.
Gambling involves risk. Please play responsibly and only wager what you can afford to lose. If you feel gambling is becoming a problem, visit BeGambleAware.org or call 1-800-GAMBLER.
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Frequently Asked Questions
Is it legal for Manitoba players to gamble on offshore casino sites? Canadian federal law targets operators running unlicensed gambling businesses, not individual players. Manitoba residents accessing offshore sites are not violating federal law. However, there’s no provincial regulatory protection if a dispute arises. You’re relying on the operator’s licensing body, which may be slow or unresponsive.
What is the difference between PlayNow and offshore no-verification casinos? PlayNow is Manitoba’s Crown-run online gambling platform, requiring full KYC and offering a limited game library. Offshore no-verification casinos skip the document upload process up to a withdrawal threshold, typically run larger game libraries, and often process CAD withdrawals faster. But without provincial regulatory protection backing you up.
Are no-verification casinos licensed? The reputable ones are. Curaçao eGaming and the Malta Gaming Authority are the most common licensing jurisdictions for Canadian-facing no-KYC operators. Unlicensed sites exist and should be avoided entirely. No license means no complaints pathway and no enforceable player protection if a dispute arises.
Why doesn’t Manitoba have a regulated iGaming market like Ontario? Political and financial reasons. Manitoba Liquor & Lotteries earns revenue from PlayNow, its Crown-run platform. Bringing private operators into a licensed open market would cannibalize that revenue stream. No provincial government has been willing to accept that trade-off, though pressure from Alberta’s move toward an Ontario-style framework may eventually shift the calculus.
What should I check before depositing at a no-verification casino as a Canadian player? Four things: licensing jurisdiction, withdrawal speed for CAD specifically, wagering requirements on any bonus (anything above 35x is a red flag), and whether Interac e-Transfer is available as a withdrawal method. Crypto rails are faster but add exchange rate risk most players underestimate.
Features
A Left-wing Yiddishist in Western Canada
By HENRY SREBRNIK I recently presented a paper on Khaim Zhitlovsky, a major proponent of secular Jewish diaspora nationalism and Jewish nationhood, at the Association for Canadian Jewish Studies annual conference at York University in Toronto.
Zhitlovsky was born in Ushachi near Vitebsk in what is now Belarus in 1865. A leading architect of secular Jewish culture and thought, he was a central figure in the progressive Jewish intelligentsia of the late nineteenth and early twentieth century in Canada and the United States.
At a Jewish International Cultural Conference organized in Paris in September 1937, the Alveltlekher Yiddisher Kultur Farband (YKUF) was founded, and he was one of the supporters. As the honorary president of the YKUF in the United States, Zhitlovsky became an icon of the Yiddishist Communist movement, particularly in western Canada, where he had inspired the founding of a strong secular Yiddish school system. At the fifth Canadian Labour Zionist conference, held in Montreal in 1910, Zhitlovsky had made a plea for Yiddish schools, saying, “If you reject Yiddish, the Jewish proletariat will reject you.”
During the Second World War, the Communist-dominated YKUF became the most important ideological vehicle for the pro-Soviet Jewish movement in Canada. It included Winnipeg activists such as Dr. Benjamin A. Victor, who had come to Canada in 1912 as a child, from the small town of Zhlobin in Belarus, and grew up in Winnipeg’s North End. He and others devoted their political energies to YKUF work and by early 1941 there were three YKUF reading circles in Winnipeg.
Much of this activity was also due to the arrival in Winnipeg of the new principal of the Communist-organized Sholem Aleichem School (formerly the Liberty Temple School), Labl Basman. Victor addressed meetings, speaking about the works of Zhitlovsky and Zishe Weinper, both prominent New York-based Yiddishists and YKUF leaders.
“Dr. B.A.Victor must be counted as being one of the most important workers in the progressive Jewish cultural movement in Winnipeg, and in particular the YKUF,” wrote Basman in the Kanader Yidishe Vochenblat, the weekly newspaper of the Canadian Jewish Communists, in the spring of 1942. “Dr. Victor has always stood in the forefront of every cultural-social movement that has been progressive and in the interests of the masses.”
Winnipeg, which Zhitlovsky visited frequently over the years, was, in the words of Jack Switzer, “a Zhitlovsky fortress.” Zhitlovsky’s 75th birthday in the autumn of 1941 had been celebrated by the organization in all of its branches across the country. When he again visited Canada in April 1942, a new YKUF men’s club was named in his honour in Winnipeg. Montreal poet Sholem Shtern, in one laudatory profile, depicted Zhitlovsky’s struggle on behalf of Yiddish language and culture, against assimilationists on both left and right, and against Zionist Hebraists. “In Yiddish Zhitlovsky sees that great progressive strength which will enable it to bring into being a new era in Jewish life.”
So Zhitlovsky’s sudden death on May 6, 1943, in Calgary, while he was on a cross-Canada lecture tour, “hit us like a thunderbolt” and “brought about sadness throughout the country,” declared the Vochenblat.
Labl Basman reported on Zhitlovsky’s last trip to Winnipeg. His two lectures had been attended by some 1,300 people, and, Basman observed, “provided the progressive Jewish community with a clear and outstanding analysis of these catastrophic times.” Zhitlovsky had stressed that support for the Soviet Union was imperative; the USSR needed to emerge from the war strengthened and with a prominent role in any post-war settlement. The Soviet Union was the centre of world progress and Jews would benefit greatly from a strong USSR, since this would mean the end of anti-Semitism and the solution of the Jewish question.
Louis Pearlman of Calgary, who was cultural chair of that city’s Peretz Shule, described Zhitlovsky’s visit to the city where he would pass away, in the Vochenblat. Zhitlovsky arrived in Calgary from Winnipeg on April 28, in good spirits, and was scheduled to give six lectures over a two-week period. About 100 people turned out for his first lecture on April 30, in the Peretz Shule, on “Socialism and Religion.”
He spoke again May 2, to 150 people, on “The Spiritual Battle of the Jewish People for its Survival.” His third lecture, on May 4, dealt with Judaism and Christianity and was also well received. But a day later he had a heart attack and was taken to a hospital; he died on May 6. Pearlman accompanied Zhitlovsky’s body back to New York and attended his funeral there.
The Vochenblat reprinted Zhitlovsky’s greetings to Birobidzhan, the Jewish Autonomous Region in the Soviet far east, on its 15th anniversary, which he had released on April 25. “Our Jewish people now has two countries in which a new Jewish life is being built, a normal life” one where Jews will live in Jewish towns and Jewish cities, “just like all the other peoples on earth,” he wrote. “The two countries are Birobidzhan and Erets Yisroel.” They ought not to be seen as antagonistic alternatives, he declared. In both, Jewish life would become “normalized” and Jews would flourish.
“Every Jewish accomplishment in both countries gives us courage in the struggle for our survival, elevates the prestige of our people in the eyes of the non-Jewish world, and strengthens our desire for the complete national liberation of our people, with the complete rights and strengths of membership in the fraternal family of nations. May the Jewish nation of Birobidzhan have long life and mature in freedom!”
Of course we now know the Birobidzhan project was a dismal failure, nor was the Soviet Union the “promised land” dreamt of by the Jewish left. Perhaps an entry in the third volume of the Leksikon Fun Der Nayer Yidisher Literatur, published in 1960 by the Congress of Jewish Culture, sums Zhitlovsky up best:
“A man who adopted, abandoned, or lost interest in so many different political programs and causes; who joined, left, or drifted away from so many parties was probably destined, at least in the short run, to oblivion. At varying times, he was a sharp opponent of Zionism and a Zionist, an anti-territorialist and a territorialist, a supporter of the Jewish Labour Bund and one of its harshest critics, a Socialist Revolutionary and an apologist for Bolshevism. He was a kind of ideological nomad, forever on the move” — and so now virtually forgotten.
Henry Srebrnik is a professor emeritus of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
