Features
“Antisemitism from the Crusades to the Holocaust”
Presented by LIONEL STEIMAN at the Lanny Remis Speakers Forum, May 8, 2025.
One of the questions I wanted to answer in my course on the history of antisemitism was why culturally assimilated European Jews seemed blind to the rising tide of antisemitism during the years in which they had grown up? Of course they didn’t have the benefit of hindsight. They knew of the pogroms, of course, but they were in Russia, not in such sophisticated centres like Vienna, Prague, and Berlin, cities to which Jews from the east had flocked by the thousands, taking advantage of the opportunities offered during the rapid industrialization of the later nineteenth century. In Vienna they would eventually become the propertied and educated elites of the upper middle class. What they underestimated was the danger they faced from masses prone to the appeals of antisemitic demagogues.
The reason was that these Jews were the beneficiaries of what was called “Jewish emancipation,” the removal of age-old restrictions on Jews that had limited what they could do, where they could live, and much more. Emancipation facilitated the admission of Jews to society on terms of equality with other citizens. They were granted the right to vote, freedom of movement, access to education, and other areas from which they had been barred. France was the first country in Europe to emancipate its Jewish population, which it did during the French Revolution. Subsequently, the process of ‘Emancipation’ was launched everywhere in Europe except the Russian Empire, and by the later 19th century was relatively complete.
Emancipation had been the product of the so-called Enlightenment, when philosophers and rulers got the bright idea that Jews, whom they had regarded as scarcely human, would stop being Jews if only they were given an opportunity to be like everyone else. If they were given freedom, the right to vote, and access to other occupations than peddling and money-lending they would lose the negative characteristics associated with Jews. This Jewish ‘character’ was not considered a matter of ‘race’ or ‘blood’, but was seen as a product of the environment in which Jews were forced to live. But behind these novel ideas lay centuries of popular hatred and prejudice rooted in religion and superstition.
So it was almost inevitable that there would be a popular reaction against the emancipation of Jews, and attempts made to roll it back. Jewish entry into areas in which they’d never before been seen made people uneasy, to say the least. And because Jews in western Europe were abandoning their distinctive dress and manner, thus assimilating and becoming indistinguishable from non-Jews, their presence came to be feared all the more. Opponents of emancipation demanded the re-imposition of restraints and restrictions on Jews, many of which dated back centuries. They organized and gave themselves a name intended to distinguish themselves from the religious bigots they scorned. Their “The League of Antisemites”, was founded in 1878 by a journalist by the name of Wilhelm Marr.
The word ‘Antisemite’ was a totally new, totally invented word. But it had a scientific ring to it, as did so much else in this age of scientific progress. Antisemitism dissociated itself from the age-old anti-Jewish prejudices rooted in religion and legend, claiming instead to have a basis in science. The word ‘Semite’ was taken from the field of philology and referred to a grouping of languages, though soon it was referring to a category of people as well. And since Jews were the only “Semites” in Europe, it was they whom anti-Semites opposed. Soon, inflammatory antisemitic publicists and their products proliferated in various countries, most especially in France and Germany, the countries where ‘Emancipation’ had proceeded furthest, and needed to be rolled back. Meanwhile, beneficiaries of Emancipation dismissed antisemitism as a matter for the gutter, or for cynical politicians
The most prominent politician to exploit antisemitism before Hitler was Karl Lueger, the famous mayor of Vienna, who used it to woo the masses. During his tenure from 1897 to 1910, Vienna became the most advanced city in the world: public facilities such as gasworks, public transit, and housing were unmatched anywhere else. And nowhere else in Europe did Jews feel more secure. Lueger was a charming man; with Jewish friends, he was often seen attending Jewish marriages and bar mitzvahs. When the contradiction was pointed out, he replied, “I decide who’s a Jew.” Antisemitism was socially acceptable and taken for granted everywhere. After all, compared to Jews in Russia, with regular pogroms claiming hundreds of lives, Jews in Vienna, Prague, Paris, or Berlin were safe and could relax. They would never have dreamed of joining the hundreds of thousands of Jews fleeing Russia for America every year. In fact, they scorned them, and their Yiddish, which they regarded as a “jargon and not a language at all.
Nothing remotely like the Russian pogroms had occurred in the West since the First Crusade of 1095. Prior to that, the Jews of Europe had enjoyed relative peace and security. And because their value as physicians, merchants, and scholars were prized by rulers, Jews often enjoyed privileges later denied them. So why had everything changed in 1095, with the launch of the first Crusade, the armed campaign to secure recapture the Holy Land from Islam? When Pope Urban II proclaimed the Crusade he made clear there was no act more deserving of heavenly reward than to die on Crusade: to do so was assurance of immediate salvation. But when the first crusaders set out for the Holy Land, they asked themselves: “Why are we going all the way to the Jerusalem to defeat Christ’s Muslim enemies when the Jews who murdered him are right here among us?” So as the armies of French Knights set out for the East, they plundered and massacred age-old Jewish communities en route, and even made significant detours to do so. Some of the Jewish victims believed their suffering heralded the coming of the Messiah. Others thought the Pope had promised a blanket pardon to anyone who killed a Jew. Jews could save themselves by becoming Christian, and some were offered baptism. Such conversions were rare. Far more common was mass ritual suicide, or “Kiddush ha-Shem”, sanctification of the divine name.
Within a century, popular pressures moved the Pope to decide to legislate that Jews everywhere be required to wear some distinguishing mark. Specifics were left to individual countries. France required Jews to wear a yellow patch on their cloaks; Germany required a yellow, cone-shaped hat. To this day, ‘yellow’ has negative connotations, notably that of cowardice. The year of this legislation was 1215: from that point on, Jews are seldom depicted without such insignia, whether in art, sculpture, or other illustrations. This began a process that continued for centuries: the separation of the ‘image’ of the Jew from their human reality. The very word ‘Jew’ became a synonym for various undesirable qualities, triggering repugnance by its very mention.
This separation of the ‘image’ from the individual allowed Jew-hatred to flourish in the absence of Jewish people. In the mid-1970s a student of mine from Sioux Lookout told me that before he came to Winnipeg he thought that “Jew” was simply a word for crooked bargaining. The boy was himself no anti-Semite; he seemed totally open-minded, and eager to learn. I found that people with Jewish friends or a Jewish doctor or other professional could still hold antisemitic views simply because their prejudices were independent of their lived experience. A colleague from a town in the north of England told me that folks there seemed to have three categories of Jews: there were “powerful international Jewish financiers”; there were the Jews in the Bible- the “Israelites”; and there were Jewish shopkeepers, who were well liked but who didn’t affect their prejudices about “the Jews.”
Where did all this begin, this separation of “Jews” from the individual human beings they really were? We have to go back to the very beginning of Christianity, which began as a radical messianic sect of Jews, whose leader, a young rabbi called Jesus, was tried and executed by a Roman court under the authority of the Roman Governor. His followers believed he was the “Messiah” who would transform Israel. Their foremost missionary was Saul of Tarsus, much later known as St. Paul. Although Saul’s original mission was to persecute the followers of Jesus, he underwent a conversion “on the road to Damascus” and joined them. Paul’s sermons and letters became central books in what eventually became the New Testament. Because Greek was the common language of the eastern Mediterranean world, Saul became Paul, and “Messiah” became ‘Christos’. Soon Christians and Jews became ever deeper entrenched in an antagonistic relationship. Christians couldn’t understand why Jews refused to recognize the truth and accept Christ. Either they must be blind, or stupid. Since obviously they were neither, they must be evil. And so in the New Testament’s book of John they are “sons of the devil” and bound to do his work. (John 8:14) During the Holocaust, some people cited the passage from Matthew in which the Jews implicitly confess their guilt for the death of Christ: “His blood be upon us and our children” (Matthew 27:25).
Throughout the centuries that followed, Jews were depicted in various art forms as devil-like creatures, with horns and tails and cloven feet. Sculptures on churches and public places showed Jews with blindfolds signifying they were blind to truth. A particularly popular motif was the so-called “Judensau”, which depicted a rabbi lifting the tail of a huge pig to look for his Talmud, while other Jews gathered beneath the pig to suckle. Variations of the “Judensau” can still be found sculpted in public places in Europe. Then there was the so-called “foetor judaicus.”, the innate stench of the Jewish body. And it only got worse.
The Church Fathers who laid the theological and pastoral foundations of Christianity defined Jews as a threat to the moral and political foundations of Christendom, just as they were a threat to the soul of every individual Christian. Some Church Fathers accused Jews of killing Christ, thus making all Jews thereafter guilty of the crime of “Deicide”, killing God! Scores of other accusations against Jews proliferated. The logic was simple: for if you would kill the Savior, what else wouldn’t you do? Soon Jews were being accused of all manner of outlandish crimes: spreading plague by poisoning wells; killing Jewish children to use their blood in baking matzoh; and even drinking Jewish blood in their rituals. If you would believe what was patently impossible- since drinking blood was taboo for Jews, what wouldn’t you believe? And thus, reasoned one prominent historian of antisemitism, the road to Auschwitz was begun over a thousand years ago.
Incidentally, the last “blood libel” trial was held in Kiev (then in the Russian Empire) Russia in 1913. The verdict was ambiguous: yes, the crime had indeed been committed, but the accused, Mendel Beilis, was not the murderer. Although both sides could claim victory, the trial helped perpetuate the myth of ritual murder: the killing of a Jewish child to use its blood to bake matzoh.
But if the “road to Auschwitz” was begun a thousand years ago, why wasn’t the attempt to exterminate Jewry also begun a thousand years ago? After all, in the 4th century C.E. Christianity became the official religion of the Roman Empire; the Romans made life difficult for Jews but made no attempt to kill them all. Why not? The answer lies with the greatest of the Church Fathers, St. Augustine (354-430). It is true, he wrote, that the Jews are guilty of the crime of Deicide, of killing the Savior. So they should be persecuted, but not too much; and they must be made to suffer, but not too much. And they should not live near Christians. Their suffering and eternal “wandering” would be proof of their guilt; and they would be living (if unwilling) witnesses to the truth of the Christian faith. This idea was repeated in variations by subsequent Popes, who in any case held out the possibility that Jews could avoid all this by converting. The Jewish communities of Europe, despite some ups and downs, were able to live relatively peaceful lives. Theirs was not an unbroken tale of suffering. But the myths, legends, and lies about them remained.
The attack on this hateful tradition began in the 18th century, the age of Enlightenment. The absurd notions of Jews having horns or drinking Christian blood now seemed out of place. Philosophers and intellectuals attacked all manner of superstitions including those that appeared to support Christianity. In attacking the Church these thinkers also attacked its beliefs that justified Jew-hatred. The further decline of religion in subsequent centuries occasioned by the rising prestige of science might have resulted in a decline of anti-Jewish prejudice, but instead the whole cluster of prejudice and superstition only found a more secure foundation in science.
Of course the word ‘science’ here must be qualified, for in the 19th and even part of the 20th centuries “science” included craniology, physiognomy, and eugenics. Today they are regarded as pseudo-sciences and historical curiosities, but prior to World War II they enjoyed a respect like that accorded to physics or any other exact science. Everywhere, “race” was accepted as a valid category for defining human groups, though its analytical usefulness was increasingly questioned until the term itself was discarded. By the 1880s Europe had completed its ranking of the world’s so-called “races” along a sliding scale. White, northern Europeans topped the list, which ranked other inhabitants according to skin colour, head-shape, physiognomy, and other physical characteristics, all of which were believed to denote the intellectual and moral qualities indicating a group’s level of ‘civilization. So where did Jews fit in? At first they were ranked simply as a sub-group of Europeans; one theory even had them at the apex of the white race; but antisemites attempted to find a scientific basis for excluding them. Since the Middle Ages, as was pointed out, Jews were believed to have a distinctly unpleasant odor, so there must be a scientific basis for it; but none was found. Researchers fanned out over Europe measuring skulls, noses, and other physical features thought to distinguish Jews from other white people. Was there a typical ‘Jewish nose’? One survey found the so-called Jewish nose was most prevalent in the Polish nobility. Research found no support for the popular belief that Jews were dark while gentiles were fair. Regional variations were such that many different ‘races existed within any given country. Wider research showed that Jews tended to resemble the populations in whose midst they resided.
In today’s “post-Truth” era we know too well that dangerous beliefs can persist despite overwhelming evidence against them. This is what happened with the cluster of beliefs encompassed in the term ‘antisemitism.’. The failure of science to support antisemitism or the notion of “race” did not stop people from believing that it did. Others recognized that science could provide little support to prejudice, so antisemites shifted their ground again: the essence of race, they argued, was in the blood—not in its physical elements but in elements which could not be measured, and whose power was therefore all the greater. By thus elevating ‘race’ to the level of ‘mystery’ late 19th century racists were merging prejudices based on religion with the emerging force of nationalism based on “race.” To the ancient belief that Jews were the enemies of Christ was added the modern belief that they posed a threat to the nation. Thus religious and racial antisemitism were strengthened by the most powerful political force ever to emerge, modern nationalism. And because Jews were a threat to race, which was the biological foundation of the nation, they were enemies of the state.
The political force of this antisemitism showed itself in 1897 with the election of Karl Lueger as mayor of Vienna, who was mentioned earlier. The antisemitism that was such a powerful force in central Europe also ignited the worst political crisis in France since the French Revolution, the Dreyfus Affair. Raging at the very time Lueger was making Vienna the most advanced city in Europe, the Dreyfus Affair threatened to destroy the French Republic. Spreading far beyond the issue of the guilt or innocence of Alfred Dreyfus, the Jewish officer charged with treason, it polarized the nation between supporters of the Republic, and those who would restore the pillars of the old order: Monarchy, Church, and Aristocracy.
With the spread of industrialism and its threat to agrarian and village life, there was a heightened urgency to demands that the influence of Jews be curbed. The prominent role of Jews in finance capital and speculation earned them blame for the scandals and crashes that dogged the era. Jewish prominence in the free professions of medicine, law, journalism and publishing all increased Jewish vulnerability to various charges of malfeasance. Add to this the persistence of the blood libel, and public depiction of Jews as pigs, goats, and devils; the stereotypes of greedy, conniving Jews proliferating in literature and fairy tales everywhere—the list goes on and on. The reality is that antisemitism had come to permeate the intellectual and cultural life of Europe. Its assumptions were widely shared across the political spectrum; general distaste for Jews was fashionable in high society; blatant antisemitism was articulated at all levels of culture, and freely expressed from church pulpits and in parliaments- including those of Canada.
But what was it about antisemitism in Germany that made the country ripe for a rabidly obsessive anti-Semite like Adolf Hitler? Israel’s most respected Holocaust historian once commented: “If people had been told in 1914 that within one generation most of the Jews of Europe would be murdered, their answer would most certainly have been: The French are capable of any crime.” The reason for this comment was that France was by far the most prolific producer and disseminator of antisemitic literature, purveyed by some of its most respected writers and intellectuals across the political spectrum; it was the home of repeated outbursts of vicious Jew-hatred, most notorious of which was the Dreyfus Affair, the likes of which had never been seen in Germany. The name Edouard-Adolphe Drumont (1844-1917) is synonymous with French antisemitism. In 1886 he published La France Juive. Its Index listed not only prominent Jews but all prominent figures having anything to do with Jews, implicating thousands in what many already believed was an inevitable national degeneration. Drumont provided a list of “hidden Jews” who had been masquerading as Frenchmen. Since antisemitism permeated every element of French culture and politics, there was no need for a specifically anti-Semitic party or movement. Antisemitism was simply a constant in culture and society.
Germany was considered the safest country in Europe for Jews, and although antisemitism was certainly widespread, it hadn’t occasioned significant violence there since the revolutionary upheavals of 1848. So what happened? Why was the Holocaust “Made in Germany”? The answer is Adolf Hitler. There is a consensus amongst many historians: “No Hitler, No Holocaust.” Antisemitism was a necessary cause of the Holocaust, but it was not a sufficient cause. The Nazis were an insignificant bubble in the froth of discontent, for which people commonly blamed the Jews. In the years following World War I, Antisemitism was common currency in political discourse all over Europe. For Hitler, communism and capitalism were both Jewish conspiracies, and the major figures in both were all of them Jews, whether in Moscow or New York. During the 1920s, support for the Communists and Nazis grew, especially during the Great Depression. In 1932, 30% of the German labour force were unemployed, compared to 22.5% in the US and 24% in Canada. Even so, the Nazi victory was not inevitable. In late 1932 the party’s electoral support was declining. There were several other options available, and yet President Hindenburg chose to appoint Hitler Chancellor.
Hitler’s subsequent dismantling of German democracy is part of a complex political story involving far more than the antisemitism which was common everywhere. In any case, Hitler’s genocidal hatred of Jews was not wholly representative. Antisemites may have desired the exclusion of Jews, but not the annihilation of the Jewish people. While Hitler’s murderous fantasies were exceptional, he was able to gain control over the entire state apparatus necessary to realize them. And however extreme his views, their individual elements were available and accessible throughout the Christian West. Everywhere in Europe, the Nazis found accomplices in murder because their victims were Jews, everywhere the historical ‘other’. The Holocaust was the product of a pervasive antisemitism that, in the Nazi mind, placed the Jewish people outside the bounds of humanity, and marked them for extinction.
Features
Omri Casspi’s Career: from Israel to the NBA
Whenever people discuss modern basketball, as it relates to Israel, Omri Casspi is one name that is generally mentioned, not because he amassed the highest NBA numbers, nor because he was one individual that dominated the game for a long period. It is because Omri was one individual that illustrated how a basketball player from a small town in Israel could make it to the most competitive basketball league in the world.
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Casspi’s story starts well outside the hallowed courts of the NBA. Casspi was born in Yavne, Israel, on June 22, 1988. Like so many tall kids, he gravitated towards basketball when he was young. Coaches first noticed size, then coordination and confidence. He did not play for fun. He competed. He trained. He listened.
As an adolescent, he enrolled in organized youth programs that required discipline. Practices concentrated on fundamentals: footwork, shooting form, defensive position. He learned to play in a team concept, instead of seeking attention. That mind-set stayed with him throughout his career.
His next team was signed when he was still young, and this team, Maccabi Tel Aviv, played at the highest level. The team played hard in Europe as well. Not only did this team compete hard, but they played in an environment where making a mistake had serious repercussions.
He concentrated on particular parts of his game:
- Improving Three-Point Accuracy
- Building strength to handle contact
- Understanding spacing in half court sets.
- Moving Without the Ball to Create Options
However, he did not explode onto the scene right away. His minutes were accumulated over time. Come the 2008-2009 season, he was averaging double figures in Israel and proving he could extend the floor. Scouts from the United States were taking note. With his height and shooting ability to spread the floor, the NBA was slowly going to take a different turn.
Draft Night and Adjustment to the NBA
Casspi decided to enter the NBA Draft in 2009. He was picked by the Sacramento Kings on the 23rd overall spot. With this selection, Casspi became the first Israeli-born player to be selected for the league. This was a historic selection, but Casspi knew symbolic value would not get him playing minutes.
The NBA is an unforgiving environment in that players must quickly adjust. The schedule is grueling. Travel involves crossing time zones. Teams take advantage of those who wait to react. Casspi began the training camp with the goal to prove himself through performance.
He earned rotation minutes as a rookie. Coaches were impressed by his willingness to shoot when he was open and his efforts on transition. For the 2009-2010 season, he averaged 10.3 points and 4.5 rebounds per game. He scored 30 points against the Golden State Warriors, and he won the Western Conference Rookie of the Month award in December 2009.
Those numbers are important but not in any way which defines him totally. He was a player the team could count on because he moved without the ball and therefore would not demand the ball. He defends within the structure. He also played hard even though the touches were limited.
A Career Marked by Movement
Professional basketball is a sport that rarely guarantees long-term stability for role players. Sacramento traded Casspi to the Cleveland Cavaliers in 2011. Casspi adjusted well in the new system and took on a reduced role. This is a test of the player’s mindset.
He eventually signed with the Houston Rockets, with whom he played primarily as a perimeter shooter. He was expected to make quick decisions. He played with a number of teams over the years wearing different uniforms:
- Sacramento Kings
- Cleveland Cavaliers
- Houston Rockets
- New Orleans Pelicans
- Minnesota Timberwolves
- Golden State Warriors
- Memphis Grizzlies
Each transition needed a dose of humility. He’d walk into new locker rooms where he’d need to rebuild trust. Some seasons, the playing time was consistent; others, his role was limited. Trades were out of his hands, but preparation wasn’t.
His career averages reflect that steady presence:
Casspi was primarily used as a small forward. In some formations, he was used as a power forward. His game was not based on isolation basketball; rather, he relied on his awareness.
He was good at scoring those types of shots, or catch-and-shoots. His opponents had to respect his shooting. When they did close out on him, he attacked the rim with long strides. He never lied to himself about his commitment to a scoring attempt.
His strengths stood out clearly:
- Shot selection outside
- Smart off-ball movement
- Team-oriented defense
- Strong Effort in Transition
He approached defense with discipline. He played the position and avoided taking unnecessary risks. Coaches appreciated that.
Experience with a Contender
In 2017, Casspi signed with the Golden State Warriors. The team competed with championship expectations and executed at high speed. Casspi took a limited but defined role. He focused on the need for efficiency.
He averaged 5.7 points per game in restricted minutes. An ankle injury interrupted his rhythm, and the Warriors waived him late in the regular season. Even then, he experienced preparation day-to-day at the very highest level of competition. Practices called for concentration and precise execution.
National Team Engagement
Through all NBA years, Casspi never abandoned Israel’s national team. International competition often placed more responsibility on his shoulders. He carried larger scoring loads and acted as a leader for younger teammates.
His presence in the NBA shifted perception inside Israel: Young players saw tangible proof that advancement to the league did not remain a distant idea. Scouts evaluated Israeli talent with greater interest.
Features
A Thousand Miracles: From Surviving the Holocaust to Judging Genocide
By MARTIN ZEILIG Theodor Meron’s A Thousand Miracles (Hurst & Company, London, 221 pg., $34.00 USD) is an uncommon memoir—one that links the terror of the Holocaust with the painstaking creation of the legal institutions meant to prevent future atrocities.
It is both intimate and historically expansive, tracing Meron’s path from a child in hiding to one of the most influential jurists in modern international law.
The early chapters recount Meron’s survival in Nazi occupied Poland through a series of improbable escapes and acts of kindness—the “miracles” of the title. Rendered with restraint rather than dramatization, these memories form the ethical foundation of his later work.
That moral clarity is evident decades later when, on the seventy-fifth anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, he addressed the UN General Assembly and reminded the world that “the German killing machine did not target Jews only but also the Roma, Poles, Russians and others,” while honoring “the Just—who risked their lives to save Jews.” It is a moment that encapsulates his lifelong insistence on historical accuracy and universal human dignity.
What sets this memoir apart is its second half, which follows Meron’s transformation into a central architect of international humanitarian law. Before entering academia full time, he served in Israel’s diplomatic corps, including a formative posting as ambassador to Canada in the early 1970s. Ottawa under Pierre Trudeau was, as he recalls, “an exciting, vibrant place,” and Meron’s responsibilities extended far beyond traditional diplomacy: representing Israel to the Canadian Jewish community, travelling frequently to Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver, and even helping to promote sales of Israeli government bonds. His affection for Canada’s cultural life—Montreal’s theatre, Vancouver’s “stunning vistas”—is matched by his candor about the political pressures of the job.
One episode proved decisive.
He was instructed to urge Canadian Jewish leaders to pressure their government to move the embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem—a request he found ethically questionable. His refusal provoked an attempt to recall him, a move that reached the Israeli cabinet. Only the intervention of Finance Minister Pinhas Sapir, who valued Meron’s work, prevented his dismissal. The incident, he writes, left “a fairly bitter taste” and intensified his desire for an academic life—an early sign of the independence that would define his legal career.
That independence is nowhere more evident than in one of the most contentious issues he faced as legal adviser to the Israeli Foreign Ministry: the legal status of Israeli settlements in the occupied West Bank. Meron recounts being asked to provide an opinion on the legality of establishing civilian settlements in territory captured in 1967.
His conclusion was unequivocal: such settlements violated the Fourth Geneva Convention as well as the private property rights of the Arab inhabitants. The government chose a different path, and a wave of settlements followed, complicating prospects for a political solution. Years later, traveling through the West Bank, he was deeply troubled by the sight of Jewish settlers obstructing Palestinian farmers, making it difficult—and at times dangerous—for them to reach their olive groves, even uprooting trees that take decades to grow.
“How could they impose on Arab inhabitants a myriad of restrictions that did not apply to the Jewish settlers?” he asks. “How could Jews, who had suffered extreme persecution through the centuries, show so little compassion for the Arab inhabitants?”
Although he knew his opinion was not the one the government wanted, he believed firmly that legal advisers must “call the law as they see it.” To the government’s credit, he notes, there were no repercussions for his unpopular stance. The opinion, grounded in human rights and humanitarian law, has since become one of his most cited and influential.
Meron’s academic trajectory, detailed in the memoir, is remarkable in its breadth.
His year at the Max Planck Institute in Heidelberg (1984–85) produced Human Rights Law–Making in the United Nations, which won the American Society of International Law’s annual best book prize. He held visiting positions at Harvard Law School, Berkeley, and twice at All Souls College, Oxford.
He was elected to the Council on Foreign Relations in 1992 and, in 1997, to the prestigious Institute of International Law in Strasbourg. In 2003 he delivered the general course at the Hague Academy of International Law, and the following year received the International Bar Association’s Rule of Law Award. These milestones are presented not as selfpromotion but as steps in a lifelong effort to strengthen the legal protections he once lacked as a child.
His reflections on building the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY)—balancing legal rigor with political constraints, and confronting crimes that echoed his own childhood trauma—are among the book’s most compelling passages. He writes with unusual candor about the emotional weight of judging atrocities that, in many ways, mirrored the violence he narrowly escaped as a boy.
Meron’s influence, however, extends far beyond the Balkans.
The memoir revisits his confidential 1967 legal opinion for the U.S. State Department, in which he concluded that Israeli settlements in the territories occupied after the Six Day War violated international humanitarian law—a view consistent with the opinion he delivered to the Israeli government itself. His distress at witnessing settlers obstruct Palestinian farmers and uproot olive trees underscores a recurring theme: the obligation of legal advisers to uphold the law even when politically inconvenient.
The book also highlights his role in shaping the International Criminal Court (ICC). Meron recalls being “happy and excited to be able to help in the construction of the first ever permanent international criminal court” at the 1998 Rome Conference.
His discussion of the ICC’s current work is characteristically balanced: while “most crimes appear to have been committed by the Russians” in Ukraine, he notes that “some crimes may have been committed by the Ukrainians as well,” underscoring the prosecutor’s obligation to investigate all sides.
He also points to the ICC’s arrest warrants for President Putin, for Hamas leaders for crimes committed on October 7, 2023, and for two Israeli cabinet members for crimes in Gaza—examples of the Court’s mandate to pursue accountability impartially, even when doing so is politically fraught.
Throughout, Meron acknowledges the limitations of international justice—the slow pace, the uneven enforcement, the geopolitical pressures—but insists on its necessity. For him, law is not a cureall but a fragile bulwark against the collapse of humanity he witnessed as a child. His reflections remind the reader that international law, however imperfect, remains one of the few tools available to restrain the powerful and protect the vulnerable.
The memoir is also a quiet love story.
Meron’s devotion to his late wife, Monique Jonquet Meron, adds warmth and grounding to a life spent confronting humanity’s darkest chapters. Their partnership provides a counterpoint to the grim subject matter of his professional work and reveals the personal resilience that sustained him.
Written with precision and modesty, A Thousand Miracles avoids selfaggrandizement even as it recounts a career that helped shape the modern architecture of international justice.
The result is a powerful testament to resilience and moral purpose—a reminder that survivors of atrocity can become builders of a more just world.
Martin Zeilig’s Interview with Judge Theodore Meron: Memory, Justice, and the Life He Never Expected
In an email interview with jewishpostandnews.ca , the 95 year-old jurist reflects on survival, legacy, and the moral demands of international law.
Few figures in modern international law have lived a life as improbable—or as influential—as Judge Theodore Meron. Holocaust survivor, scholar, adviser to governments, president of multiple UN war crimes tribunals, Oxford professor, and now a published poet at 95, Meron has spent decades shaping the global pursuit of justice. His new memoir, A Thousand Miracles, captures that extraordinary journey.
He discussed the emotional challenges of writing the book, the principles that guided his career, and the woman whose influence shaped his life.
Meron says the memoir began as an act of love and remembrance, a way to honor the person who anchored his life.
“The critical drive to write A Thousand Miracles was my desire to create a legacy for my wife, Monique, who played such a great role in my life.”
Her presence, he explains, was not only personal but moral—“a compass for living an honorable life… having law and justice as my lodestar, and never cutting corners.”
Reflecting on the past meant confronting memories he had long held at a distance. Writing forced him back into the emotional terrain of childhood loss and wartime survival.
“I found it difficult to write and to think of the loss of my Mother and Brother… my loss of childhood and school… my narrow escapes.”
He describes the “healing power of daydreaming in existential situations,” a coping mechanism that helped him endure the unimaginable. Even so, he approached the writing with restraint, striving “to be cool and unemotional,” despite the weight of the memories.
As he recounts his life, Meron’s story becomes one of continual reinvention—each chapter more improbable than the last.
“A person who did not go to school between the age of 9 and 15… who started an academic career at 48… became a UN war crimes judge at 71… and became a published poet at the age of 95. Are these not miracles?”
The title of his memoir feels almost understated.
His professional life has been driven by a single, urgent mission: preventing future atrocities and protecting the vulnerable.
“I tried to choose to work so that Holocausts and Genocides will not be repeated… that children would not lose their childhoods and education and autonomy.”
Yet he is cleareyed about the limits of the institutions he served. Courts, he says, can only do so much.
“The promise of never again is mainly a duty of States and the international community, not just courts.”
Much of Meron’s legacy lies in shaping the legal frameworks that define modern international criminal law. He helped transform the skeletal principles left by Nuremberg into robust doctrines capable of prosecuting genocide, crimes against humanity, and wartime sexual violence.
“Fleshing out principles… especially on genocide, crimes against humanity and especially rape.”
His work helped ensure that atrocities once dismissed as collateral damage are now recognized as prosecutable crimes.
Even with these advances, Meron remains realistic about the limits of legal institutions.
“Courts tried to do their best, but this is largely the duty of States and their leaders.”
Justice, he suggests, is not only a legal project but a political and moral one—requiring courage from governments, not just judges.
Despite witnessing humanity at its worst, Meron refuses to surrender to despair. His outlook is grounded in history, tempered by experience, and sustained by a stubborn belief in progress.
“Reforms in the law and in human rights have often followed atrocities.”
He acknowledges that progress is uneven—“not linear,” as he puts it—but insists that hope is essential.
“We have ups and downs and a better day will come. We should work for it. Despair will not help.”
Judge Theodore Meron’s life is a testament to resilience, intellect, and moral clarity.
A Thousand Miracles is not simply a memoir of survival—it is a record of a life spent shaping the world’s understanding of justice, guided always by memory, principle, and the belief that even in humanity’s darkest hours, a better future remains possible.
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Gamification in Online Casinos: What Do Casino Online DudeSpin Experts Say
Gamification is one of the trends in modern game development. The technology allows players to interact with in-game elements and complete various tasks to earn additional rewards. Sites like casino online DudeSpin are eager to explore new technologies. Canadian players are particularly drawn to gamification for the opportunity to test their skills and have fun. Various development approaches allow for the implementation of much of this functionality already at this stage of development.
Core Elements of Gamification
Gamification is a technology that implements various elements to increase player attention. This mechanic not only attracts new users but also increases the time spent playing. This method rewards the most active players and also uses interactive elements that evoke certain associations and habitual actions.
Gamification elements include:
Achievement systems. Players earn special points and rewards for achieving certain goals. For example, unlocking a new level awards points and free spins on slot machines.
Leaderboards. Competitive rankings increase player attention and encourage active betting. Furthermore, healthy competition between participants improves their overall performance.
Progressive mechanics. Players consistently achieve higher results, which unlock additional privileges. Constant progression creates the effect of maximum engagement and attention to the user’s personality.
Challenges. Special quests and daily missions help players feel needed, and a structured goal system encourages active betting.
Sites like casino online DudeSpin utilize all these components to make players feel part of a unified, evolving system.
Psychological Appeal of Gamification
The key to gamification’s success is that every player wants to feel special and appreciated. A reward system stimulates dopamine, which creates additional rewarding gameplay experiences. This is how sites like casino online DudeSpin retain a loyal audience and build a strong community.
Stable player progress serves as a motivation to continue betting and unlocking new achievements. Furthermore, a certain level on the leaderboard provides an opportunity to showcase your skills and connect with others at your level. Personalized offers enhance the effect of this uniqueness, encouraging more active betting in games. Structured goals and achievements help players manage their time spent active, focusing only on activities that truly benefit them.
Canadian Perspective on Gamified Casino Experiences
Canadian casinos are using gamification techniques for a reason. They’re developing a legal and modern market that appeals to local audiences. Furthermore, operators like casino online DudeSpin operate in compliance with local laws, which fosters trust.
Another reason for gamification’s popularity is the localization of content. All games, prizes, and tournaments are tailored to the local market. A loyal community communicates in a clear language and interacts according to audience preferences.
Many casinos also integrate responsible options to help players manage their deposits and avoid overspending. This structure makes gamification attractive.
Finally, gamification is already a traditional element of gameplay in Canadian casinos, attracting new audiences and increasing loyalty among existing ones.
Technology evolves alongside new opportunities, and operators strive to offer the best benefits to their most active players. This interaction makes gamification a viable solution for gamblers. Leaderboards, achievements, and adaptive features are particularly popular with Canadian users due to their personalization.