Features
I’m a veteran expert in stopping epidemics. Here’s why Jewish institutions should cancel everything.
By GARY SLUTKIN
CHICAGO (JTA) — I am an infectious disease epidemiologist who worked at the World Health Organization on epidemics in over 25 countries around the world.
As a physician and member of the Jewish community, I prize the Jewish teaching that places the saving of a life above all other laws and practices. It is my expert opinion that as a result of the emergence of the novel coronavirus COVID-19, the Jewish community (along with all religious and community groups) must change what we are doing immediately: We need to suspend our usual religious services and social gatherings.
Many communities have recognized the emergency and already made this change, and more and more are doing so in the hours before Shabbat begins. But others are still making small-scale changes or contemplating what to do next.
Each community and individual will have to work within their own traditions and norms. But as an epidemiologist, I know that these recommendations will save lives.
I have worked to help stop epidemics of many sizes and infectious patterns — from AIDS in Africa and Asia, to tuberculosis in San Francisco, to cholera in Somalia. I also ran the Intervention Unit for WHO, which guided countries in epidemic control and the behavioral changes needed.
All serious epidemics disrupt populations, and all require important changes to what the population does. These changes are necessary and urgent to avoid preventable deaths and the spread of infections that cause more preventable deaths. That’s why I recommend that we as Jews temporarily but immediately refrain from attending synagogues and other in-person meetings, no matter whether we live in an area where there is a known case of COVID-19 or not.
This virus is easily transmitted through droplets in the air, through hand to hand (to face) contact and on surfaces, and is much more dangerous than the seasonal flu. The seriousness and lethality of this virus to older people is exceptionally high, and other adults also have higher risks of serious illness as well as high likelihoods of causing transmission to older people.
First and foremost, we must take these steps because we value human life: our own lives, our families, and the greater community and the world around us. Stopping group contact is an essential method right now for preventing ourselves from getting this easily transmitted and highly lethal virus, and also to stop any spread to our families and the community.
Mistakes and delays and less than perfect compliance with new behaviors and practices can be deadly. We have seen this happen already in other countries, like Italy and elsewhere in Europe, and we are witnessing the active spread in Seattle and New York state. Other cities and parts of cities will see lethal outbreaks if they are late or noncompliant.
Complacency, denial and overconfidence are common among us, but there is no place for this now.
You may get pushback from your family or friends, and you may feel social pressure to go about business as usual. But this is not a time to care about that — now is the time to do as much as we can to prevent the spread of disease and death. Resist these impulses and counter arguments.
This pandemic will go on for at least several months – we still don’t know how long. As we learn more, we will be better able to make more localized and informed decisions about when and how to adjust or attempt to get back to normal, but now is the time to stop any possible potential for getting infected yourself and causing illness, perhaps serious illness to yourself — or for unknowingly infecting others, which you cannot judge by appearances of health right now.
Major global and local crises require these adjustments but also challenge us to increase our humanity and the best parts of our communal lives.
Synagogues and our religious communities present both significant challenges and value in that regard. However, we must now learn to balance our spiritual and emotional health with the real physical risks to our health today.
Therefore, unfortunately:
We must suspend our usual religious services and gatherings now.
Crowds and close contact risk invisible spread and disease to you and others, and you don’t know who might be carrying the virus.
In addition, in our daily lives:
Cancel and don’t attend other non-essential in-person meetings.
Learning can be done on conference calls, including video services like Zoom, Skype and Google Hangouts. The same goes for meetings. It may sound harsh, but remember, the risk to what we schedule isn’t simply inside the synagogue walls. It also takes place for the participants on transportation, street encounters, etc.
We must stop (“ban”) all handshaking, as well as hugs and embraces.
Even the “fist bump” and “elbow rub” puts two individuals in closer proximity than is optimal and I recommend we stop this entirely.
That doesn’t mean we can’t greet one another with respect and warmth. The heart, “lev” in Hebrew, has been taught in Jewish and other traditions to be the seat of spirituality. Consider alternatively placing your hand to your heart and bowing your head in acknowledgement of an encounter with a fellow community member. It may feel awkward at first, but can help to maintain critical social distance while honoring the encounter. It might even feel good.
Practice frequent and thorough handwashing.
I cannot overemphasize frequent and thorough handwashing throughout the day. An incredibly frequent means of spread of respiratory pathogens is a sick person touching their face, shaking hands with another person and that person then touching their face. We touch our face dozens of times a day, mostly unconsciously. This practice with an unwashed hand is enough to cause the infection through your eye, nose or mouth touched. Develop a different relationship to your hands, be aware if you have touched a door knob, railing or other surface someone may have touched. These surfaces also harbor the virus if they have been touched by someone sick or incubating the infection.
Keep social distances.
It is best to be further away from people than we usually are. This may seem weird or unusual, but it means in the grocery store, or wherever you go, try to be 6 feet or more away from others.
If you are sick with a fever or cough, stay home.
Call your doctor to determine if you really need to go in. Some medical facilities are getting full or risk being so, not everything is coronavirus and there are no treatments for now. If you are having shortness of breath or feel seriously ill, of course seek care as usual.
For those who are holding small services at home:
Don’t kiss communally shared objects.
Prayer books, mezuzot and the like should not be kissed for the duration. Even touching communal objects or surfaces should be avoided, unless you can assure handwashing immediately after.
Stop sharing challah and kiddush cups — and consider how and if you need to serve food.
It is very hard to ensure not spreading respiratory viruses by serving and sharing food.
Focus on the Jewish tradition of acts of lovingkindness.
While this is not an infection control recommendation, it’s an important Jewish value. Do you have a friend or family member or neighbor at high risk for whom you can run an errand? Many people are at home now working, in self-quarantine or just trying to stay safe. Check in on them safely. Pick up the phone and see how they are doing. See if they need an errand run for them without potentially passing on an invisible infection.
The isolation that can help protect our physical health should not erode our mental health. This important part of Jewish life can be adapted — perhaps not so easily, but we will figure out ways to do this with care and understanding.
While this is a moment for in-person synagogue activities to pause, this is an ever more critical moment for the role synagogue can play in the lives of people who are isolated, fearful or just in need of comfort. Nearly everyone is in some level of emotional and mental distress over what is happening.
There are brain processes we have as invisible to the eye, yet as powerful as microbial processes and just as crucial. Even in good times, our synagogues and religious communities represent crucial elements in our own sense of well-being and social safety net. This is all the more true during a frightening global crisis.
While nothing can fully replace human contact, our phones and computers offer a great means to connect in full safety. This is the moment for rabbis and synagogue leadership to be most mindful of preserving human life by using all technology tools — including the phone, of course — to make our communities virtual but still alive until this pandemic is under control. Which we are all now helping to ensure.
After decades of working to stop epidemics, I saw many very tough situations and many hard days, weeks and months. Epidemics follow a curve up and then back down, and eventually they end. It is up to us and our most important and trusted institutions to stop the spread now — and to keep the curve of infections and deaths as small and short as possible.
Better days are ahead. Our synagogues will again ring with beautiful voices and much joy. We will get there with these strong and proactive steps to ensure as many beautiful voices as possible are there to join us.
The views and opinions expressed in this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of JTA or its parent company, 70 Faces Media.
Features
Brain drain affecting Israel could lead to severe economic difficulties
By BERNIE BELLAN (Oct. 27, 2026) As of the time of writing, the future shape of Israel’s Knesset was clear as mud. I always remember one of the most important lessons I learned as a Political Studies student, which is the structure-function relationship of any country’s political system, in which the structure of a country’s system of government determined how stable that country’s government was likely to be.
Are we lucky to be living in a parliamentary democracy – with a first past the post system of government, where it is not that complicated to cobble together a majority government – even if it means sometimes aligning with rival parties to form that majority?
After watching the spiral into authoritarianism now taking place in the U.S. under their fragmented democratic system where an unscrupulous president can appropriate almost unlimited power – unchecked by the toadies on the Supreme Court or members of Congress, I would say we’re so much luckier to be living within a parliamentary system of government.
But, when it comes to total disarray – no one can beat Israel’s system of government, where it is near impossible to put together a stable government unless – following the pattern of so many other formerly democratic countries, an authoritarian leader manages to assert himself and neutralize so many of that country’s democratic institutions – which is what we have seen happening under Netanyahu’s leadership.
I ask all these questions after having read an article on the Times of Israel website back in August, but whose relevance has become only more prominent as a result of Israel’s continual slide into disarray.
We in the West can pretend that Israel, for all its problems, is still a democracy, and that no matter what may be happening there, its citizens still want to live there.
But, after reading the TOI article, which was titled “Emigration of doctors, engineers, other highly educated Israelis hits record high,” one might be forgiven for thinking that Israel’s best and brightest are hurrying to leave their country.
Here are some figures from that story: A “Tel Aviv University report released earlier this week showed a record-setting trend of emigration from Israel continued in 2025, with nearly 50,000 Israelis leaving the country for the third year in a row.”
The article also noted that “High-earning Israelis working in tech and healthcare are emigrating in sharply rising numbers, almost doubling over five years, a new study by the Israel Tax Authority has found.
“The research by the Israel Tax Authority’s Planning and Economics Division, which examined incomes of Israeli emigrants over the past decade, found the rate at which affluent Israelis left the country increased sharply in 2023 and 2024 to record highs, and was almost double what it was until 2019.”
Although I posited that Israel’s political instability is a major reason for the exodus so so many high-income earners, the authors of the study say that it is not altogether clear what is behind the departure of so many talented Israelis: “The authors of the study stated that it was difficult to determine whether this shift in the makeup of emigrants stemmed from major changes that occurred in society and the labor market following the COVID-19 pandemic, or whether it was a reaction to the political upheaval over the judicial overhaul and security events that started with the October 7 onslaught and war in Gaza that have been shaking Israel since 2023.”
One might well ask whether a significant number of other Israelis would also leave the country, were they in an economic position to do so? After all, for many years, here in Manitoba we saw a large influx of Israelis, almost entirely coming from the middle class, who were drawn to come here by a combination of factors, including the GrowWinnipeg initiative – which made it attractive for young Israeli families to look to Winnipeg as a potential landing point, also the Provincial Nominee Program, which offered immigrants opportunities to find employment in areas where Manitoba was short of particular types of workers.
But, what of those high income Israelis to which the TOI article refers? Anecdotally, we have read and heard accounts of highly educated Israelis moving here (and Myron Love has often profiled some of those individuals), but if 150,000 Israelis have left the country, one wonders where they have all gone?
Here are the favourite destinations for Israelis looking to move somewhere else (in order): the U.S. Canada, United Kingdom, Cyprus, Portugal, Spain, Greece, Malta, Germany, Australia, and New Zealand.
Many of those countries have tightened their immigration rules, however, as the backlash in Western countries against immigrants from poorer countries has also led to an overall decrease in the number of immigrants allowed in from other Western countries, including Israel.
Still, for individuals with particular talents – or with very high incomes, finding a country to which they can move does not present the same problems as it would for people of lesser means.
Let me end this with this cautionary note from the TOI article: “For a country where the top 20% of income earners are paying 92% of all income tax revenue, the change in the mix of Israelis leaving the country represents a significant strategic risk to state revenues and growth in the economy.”
And, with so many countries now seeing Israel as a pariah state, with all the attendant economic consequences that portends, it is hard to be optimistic about Israel’s future.
Features
Coincidence or not: Two books launched the same night – by my brother and by my niece
By GERRY POSNER Recently, on October 8, to be exact, an odd timing coincidence occurred in my family that struck me as highly unlikely. Two books were launched on the very same night in Toronto, at two separate locations. What was unusual for me was that one book was by my brother, Michael Posner and the other book was written by my niece, Elana Shira Segal. The topics, unsurprisingly, were not connected to each other. But you could not have planned that timing any worse than it turned out to be.
Michael Posner’s book, This Jewish Moment, an oral history of the Diaspora after October 7, 2023 had various people giving their opinions on a set of questions Michael posed to them as he interviewed them following the October 7, 2023 massacre. The interviews were conducted by Zoom. Each person interviewed was aware of the fact that the interview was recorded and that the interview might be used in a book. Each person’s name and age is given along with a brief description of who that person is. Some of the interviews were with people well known in Manitoba circles.The oral history technique is not new to Michael as he used it in the Leonard Cohen trilogies he created not that long ago and before that in his book on Mordecai Richler.
Michael interviewed over one hundred Jews in Canada and the United States. The thrust of the book was to explore how the events of October 7 affected the interviewees, how it changed (or didn’t change) their interpersonal relationships; altered, if at all, their spiritual lives; their trust in Jewish institutions and indeed, their perceptions about their own safety. It includes their thoughts about what lies ahead and even the idea of leaving North America. Without giving too much away, I can say that the opinions canvassed in the book do reflect a definite shift for many of the interviewees from their previous thoughts on these topics. If you read Michael’s book, you will not come away singing cheery songs. For many people, the future is bleak.
At the book launch held at the Beth Tikvah Synagogue in Toronto in front of about sixty people, there were several former Winnipeggers in attendance, including: Paul Shuckett, Bernie and Sheila Rubenstein, Aubrey Caplan and Philipa Glazerman, the former Susan Silverman, Gary Diamond, my son Ari Posner, and even a current resident of Winnipeg, Dolly Cohen, who came to visit her cousin Philipa.
Michael’s book, published by Sutherland Press, is in hardcover and ebook. It can be purchased at Indigo, and through Amazon.
Elana’s book is in an entirely different genre than her Uncle Michael’s book. Even the Darkness Has Stars is the title of her book -also her very first book. It is a work of fiction based on her career as a social worker and therapist for over 30 years in Toronto. The book explores the life of a teenage girl dealing not only with the usual teenage angst, but other issues as well. It is a book that will resonate with teenagers, and indeed parents of teenagers. It is a story of resilience and is an honest reflection of the very real problems facing many teens and ways to address their problems. I would suggest that the themes in the book are very relevant to teenagers today, especially girls. I think it is also fair to say that many parents of teenage children will identify with the difficulties faced by the chief protagonist in the book. Even counsellors and trained therapists will recognize the issues raised in this book. Schools and libraries would benefit from the book.
At her book launch, Elana outdrew her Uncle Michael as she had over one hundred people there. The conflict of the two books presented several of us in the family with an issue as to which event to attend. While my son Ari came to his uncle’s launch, his wife Tamar Kagan went to Ari’s first cousin Elana’s debut book launch. Even my wife and I split our allegiances.
Elana’s book can be ordered through Amazon or Barnes and Noble in the USA.
Now, if the oddity of the two books in the family being released at the same time was not enough, in November, another family member has a book coming out. This book is by my nephew Sam Posner’s wife, Erin Rothstein. Her book, called Watch Me is a guide to unlocking creative power. Erin is a visual artist, whose original paintings and limited edition prints have made her a name in the world of art already. She has a large following due to the success of her art. Her book deals with the ways to find your inner creativity and the ideas that spring to life when a person unlocks that creativity and gives him or herself permission to think bigger. If the book lives up to the art Erin creates, she will have a best seller. Erin’s book will be launched in four cities: Toronto, Montreal, New York and Los Angeles. It will be available at Indigo, Barnes and Noble, and through Amazon in hardcover, paperback, e-book and audiobook.
To the readers of this article, get out there and support the Posner family.
Features
The late Dr. Maurice Shnider had a fascinating life – from serving in WWII to meeting famous celebrities who passed through Winnipeg
By MARTIN ZEILIG I first visited Dr. Maurice Shnider at his home in Winnipeg’s River Heights neighbourhood to talk about war.
His house reflected the life of a successful physician. It was spacious and comfortable without being ostentatious. Family photographs occupied shelves and tables. Sunlight spilled into the kitchen where we sat drinking coffee.
By then he was an elderly man, friendly, thoughtful, and possessed of that rare quality found in some people who have lived through extraordinary times. He never seemed impressed by his own experiences.
He had been born in Sheho, Saskatchewan, in 1923 and grew up in Inglis, Manitoba.
Then came the war.
As a young man he served with the Royal Canadian Air Force before being seconded to the Royal Air Force. Flying aboard Catalina flying boats in the Bay of Bengal, he participated in missions searching for downed Allied aircrew and earned the Distinguished Flying Cross.
Those were the stories I had come to hear and later wrote about for the Jewish Post & News.
Stories of long flights over open water.
Stories of rescue.
Stories of courage.
Yet as the interview continued, another chapter of his life emerged.
After the war he returned to Canada, attended medical school at the University of Manitoba, and eventually built a successful family practice in Winnipeg. His patients often became his friends. He took pride in caring for generations of families and became known as a gifted and dedicated physician.
For a period of years, he also served as the physician responsible for checking vaccination records and health documentation for international travellers passing through Winnipeg International Airport.
It was then that his eyes brightened.
The war stories were important.
The airport stories were fun.
“You’d be surprised who came through Winnipeg,” he said.
The coffee was fresh. Outside, a warm prairie breeze shifted the trees beyond the kitchen window.
Then he smiled.
“Even the Beatles.”
The name immediately caught my attention.
“The Beatles?”
He laughed.
“The whole city went crazy.”
It was August 18, 1964.
The Beatles were on their way to begin their first major North American tour and Winnipeg was merely a refuelling stop. They weren’t playing a concert. They weren’t staying overnight.
They were simply passing through.
Yet somehow word spread.
Radio stations reported it. Teenagers rushed to the airport. Parents drove excited daughters across the city. Traffic clogged nearby roads. The terminal filled with screaming fans hoping to catch a glimpse of the four young Englishmen who seemed to have conquered the world overnight.
Maurice happened to be the airport doctor assigned to examine the passengers’ health records.
What should have been a routine day suddenly became anything but.
Almost fifty years later, what remained vivid in his memory was not the famous faces but the sound.
The noise.
The shrieking.
The excitement.
For a brief moment Winnipeg became the centre of the universe for thousands of young Canadians.
Then the aircraft door opened.
John, Paul, George, and Ringo appeared.
They waved.
The crowd erupted.
A few photographs were taken.
A few words were exchanged.
And then, scarcely more than twenty minutes after they had arrived, they were gone.
Winnipeg returned to being Winnipeg.
Maurice chuckled at the memory.
“John Lennon was cheeky.”
I asked what he meant.
He considered the question.
“Always had a smart answer.”
He smiled again.
“Not rude. Just cheeky.”
The passage of decades had done nothing to diminish his amusement.
For a few moments we sat quietly.
Then another memory surfaced.
“Steve McQueen was one of the nicest.”
That surprised me.
Maurice encountered the actor in the airport restaurant.
McQueen was seated alone.
No entourage.
No photographers.
No one making a fuss.
Just a man eating lunch between flights.
Maurice rarely approached famous people.
But there was a reason that day.
One of his children was facing serious medical challenges and was a devoted Steve McQueen fan. Movies offered an escape from hospitals, treatments, and uncertainty.
So Maurice walked over to the actor’s table.
He introduced himself and explained the situation.
McQueen listened carefully.
Then he asked for the family’s address.
That was all.
No promises. No performance. No grand gesture.
Simply an address.
Several weeks later a package arrived at the Shnider home.
Inside was an autographed Steve McQueen poster.
Maurice’s expression softened as he recalled it.
The poster itself wasn’t what mattered.
What mattered was seeing the joy it brought.
Even years later, that was the part of the story he remembered most clearly.
“He was a very humble man,” Maurice said.
“Very soft-spoken.”
The kitchen fell silent.
For a moment the famous actor disappeared entirely from the story.
What remained was a father’s gratitude.
Then Maurice laughed again.
“Vanessa Redgrave.”
Another unexpected visitor.
She was travelling through Winnipeg on her way to Los Angeles when it was discovered that she lacked the proper vaccination documentation required for international travel.
In those days such requirements were taken seriously.
The problem needed solving.
So Maurice solved it.
He drove her downtown to his office.
One of the world’s most celebrated actresses riding through Winnipeg in a doctor’s car.
No limousine.
No security detail.
No red carpet.
Just traffic lights, city streets, and ordinary conversation.
There he administered the required vaccination and drove her back to the airport in time for her flight.
He told the story as though it were perfectly routine.
Perhaps for him it was.
I remember thinking that this was what made his stories so wonderful.
To everyone else they sounded extraordinary.
To Maurice they were simply things that had happened during a long and interesting life.
As our conversation drew to a close, he looked down into his coffee cup and reflected on the famous people who had crossed his path.
The Beatles.
Steve McQueen.
Vanessa Redgrave.
Different personalities.
Different kinds of fame.
Yet in the end they all became the same thing.
Travellers.
People worried about schedules.
People missing paperwork.
People trying to catch flights.
People trying to get somewhere.
The old airport had been a great equalizer. For a few moments, between arrival and departure, fame gave way to ordinary life.
And Maurice Shnider occupied a unique place in that world.
He wasn’t a celebrity.
He wasn’t an observer standing outside the story.
He was part of it.
A prairie boy who became a decorated wartime airman, flew rescue missions over distant seas, returned home to study medicine, built a respected family practice in Winnipeg, and devoted his life to helping others.
Some of the people he met happened to be famous.
Most were not.
To Maurice, it made little difference.
He especially enjoyed the company of pilots, storytellers, musicians, and adventurers. He remained fascinated by the Second World War, by history, and above all by people. Fame interested him far less than character.
He remembered the famous ones not because they were celebrities, but because, for a few brief moments, they revealed themselves to be something far more interesting.
Simply human.
When Dr. Maurice Shnider died in 2013 at the age of ninety, Winnipeg lost not only a distinguished physician and decorated veteran, but also a man who never lost his curiosity about the world or his affection for the people who passed through it.
Some departures are quickly forgotten.
Others leave a lasting mark.
That was how I remember him.
And that is how he deserves to be remembered.
