Features
Berdina Shorten: Her long and circuitous journey to returning to her Jewish roots
By BERNIE BELLAN Berdina Shorten has lived in Winnipeg since coming here with her family from the Netherlands in 1953. Although Berdina was Jewish by ancestry (going back to her great-grandmother), she hadn’t been raised Jewish. It was only several years after having come to Canada – and having got married, that Berdina – and her late husband, Ken Shorten, both converted to Judaism.
Typically, the stories we publish in this paper about people’s wartime experiences have to do with the Holocaust. Those stories are all certainly horrendous – and almost always riveting, but when I happened to be talking to Berdina about a totally unrelated subject (the renewal of her subscription) and the conversation got around to her wartime experiences, I said to her that I wanted to write about her story.
I should also mention that I had heard Berdina speak at the Shaarey Zedek several years ago, but at that time I didn’t take any notes. (I can’t recall exactly why I was there or how I happened to be in the room when Berdina told her story, but I remember thinking that this would make a great story for the paper some day.)
In any event, here’s a recounting of the first part of Berdina’s story, based on a phone interview that I conducted with her on February .
First, a little history is needed, in order to understand the context for what happened to Berdina and her family.
The German army had invaded Poland in September 1939. After consolidating its gains there, Germany turned its attention to Western Europe in April 1940, first by invading Norway and Denmark, then launching an attack through Belgium into that country, also the Netherlands and Luxembourg (despite those three countries having adopted positions of neutrality).
The German invasion of The Netherlands began on May 10, 1943.
That is where Berdina’s story picks up. But first, a little background on her family history.
Berdina’s father, Theodore (or Theo, as he was known) was a master leather cutter. His “family was Protestant, but his mother was Catholic, so he was raised Catholic,” she said.
As Berdina explained, “his family had come from France in 1610. He used to say the reason his family didn’t go to the New World was ‘no pretty cruise directors, no first class cabins, no air conditioning.’ The real reason was they were Huguenots and they weren’t allowed to go to the New World – unless they went to England and went with the Protestants,” e.g., the Pilgrims on the Mayflower.)
Berdina’s mother (Anna), however, “was born Jewish” but, as Berdina noted, “the family never practiced Judaism. What happened was her mother was born Jewish to a Dutch girl and a German Rhine skipper. Her father died when she was four years old, so her mother went back to Holland, but her family wouldn’t accept her back because she had married someone who was not Jewish. She raised her child (Berdina’s grandmother) with the help of local charities and working in a grocery store.
“When she met my great-grandfather, he was more Catholic than the Pope, so she never practiced her religion and she raised her children as Catholic – but they were actually Jewish – by Jewish law.
“It wasn’t until I was 12 – and I had been sent to Catholic school. I was always challenging the nuns. I wanted to check out Judaism, but I wasn’t allowed.
I asked Berdina whether “she had an awareness that she was Jewish?”
She said she did. “I always knew. My mother knew also, but they hid it.”
I asked then how she knew about her Jewish heritage?
She answered: “My relatives. I heard conversations when I was a child.”
While, Her mother “didn’t practice any religion, her “father did. He’d go to Mass once in a while,” Berdina noted.
When the Germans invaded the Netherlands, Berdina’s father was in the Dutch army, fighting on the “Grebenberg (or the Grebbe line, the main line of Dutch defence)– where they held the Germans back for many days.” (Actually, it wasn’t many days at all – only three. The Dutch were badly equipped and totally outmaneuvered by the Germans.)
Berdina continued her story: “My father was a fantastic shot…But the Queen (Wilhelmina) capitulated. They were bombing the hell out of Rotterdam (May 14, 1940).” The Netherlands surrendered the next day.
Berdina’s father was taken prisoner and sent to work as a forced labourer (in Germany): “So my father was taken and put into a factory. He was a master leather cutter – making shoes.”
Berdina’s family lived very close to the German border with the Netherlands. Thus, even though Theo was forced to work in Germany, it was only a three-hour walk for him to return to his hometown – and his family. It seems somewhat strange to think of someone who’s kept as a forced labourer – which Berdina described as “slave labour”, yet who was allowed to return home on weekends, as she explained:
He was allowed to go home (where mother lived) once a week, Berdina said. “He was given one egg a week, so he would take that egg with him, so my brother (Corey, who was born four years before Berdina) would be able to have at least a little bit of protein in his diet.”
All the while Theodore though, was part of the Dutch underground– meeting with other members of the underground surreptitiously while he was in forced labour for the Germans.
Berdina told this story about one harrowing brush with danger her father had while he was in the resistance: “A story he told was that he was going to a meeting (of the underground) with a friend. They were caught by a young German soldier and the soldier” pointed his rifle at them and “told them to put their hands up. Somehow my father was able to overtake this young soldier.
“His friend said ‘We have to run.’ My father said, ‘No, we can’t. If we run and they find him (the soldier), they’ll kill ten people on this street.“ (That was the retribution the Germans typically exacted, Berdina explained.)
“So my father was able to get a hold of some liquor, put it over the kid’s mouth, then took his guns and papers to the nearest police station, which was controlled by the Germans, and said: ‘One of your soldiers was drunk and we took his guns and papers before he hurt someone.’
“My father was given a pass to go anywhere he wanted that night.”
I asked Berdina if she knew when it was that her father fled the factory for good and ended up going totally “underground” with the Dutch Resistance, but she said she didn’t know exactly when that happened.
When the Canadian army reached Holland in September 1944, anyone who had been in the Dutch army was able to join the Canadian army, Berdina explained, so her father ended up joining the Canadian army.
“When the Dutch army reorganized, he went back to the Dutch army.”
Her father was uncomfortable talking about what he did during the war, Berdina noted, but according to her brother, Theo had once told him that he “had killed at least one German that he knew of (a sniper) and probably more, but he wasn’t sure.”
I asked Berdina whether there were any other memories from the war that she wanted to talk about.
She said there was a young girl – only 14, in her town, “who was the first girl (in Berdina’s home town) to get pregnant by a German soldier.”(That soldier died in a plane crash coming back from North Africa, Berdina added.) “She was also the first girl to get pregnant by a Canadian soldier.
“After the war the people in that community were going to get her and shave her head and send her packing.
“My mother said to my father: ‘That little girl is still only 15 years old. She’s still walking around in Bobby socks and skipping with a skipping rope. Theo (Berdina’s father), could you please do something to stop those people from hurting her?’
“My father went out on to the street and he saw about 50 people coming for the girl. He stopped them.”
In 1953, Berdina, along with her parents and three brothers (two of whom were born after the end of the Second World War), came to Canada.
“My father started to work as leather cutter in the Canada West shoe factory,” Berdina explained.
“Maitland Steinkopf hired him. Eventually my father started to work in St. Boniface Hospital; he’d had a year’s medical training in Edinborough after the war – so he started to work in the hospital, in the x-ray department.
“He worked four hours a night doing piece work for Maitland. He made more money doing that than he did in the hospital.”
I was curious to know more about Maitland Steinkopf and his connection to the shoe business. I knew that Steinkopf was a very successful businessman who also played a leading role in the development of the Centennial Concert Hall, as well as being a prominent Conservative politician and cabinet minister, but other than that I didn’t know much about him.
Berdina said to me that Steinkopf’s success in the shoe manufacturing business was a result of his decision to go to Minneapolis at one point and come back with the Canadian rights to a line of shoes called “Hush Puppies”. That reminded me of another famous decision made by a local Jewish businessman – Samuel Cohen, who decided to begin importing transistor radios made by a company called Sony.
Turning to Berdina’s decision to become Jewish, here is how she explained how that came about:
“My late husband, Ken Shorten (whom I incorrectly referred to as Frank in my previous article), came from an Irish family – that originally came to Canada in 1690, and they farmed in the McCreary area.
“He worked in Eatons – and I worked in Eatons as well. That’s where I met him and we got married.
“Well, he was Protestant and I had been raised in a Catholic environment. We decided that we weren’t going to let the difference in our faiths have a negative effect on us, so we just stuck to ourselves when it came to the religious part.
“But that didn’t work for me and it didn’t work for him and I always knew about my Jewish heritage, so I said to him one day: ‘You know, I’d like to learn more about Judaism; it’s part of my heritage.’ And he said: ‘Me, too.’
“He had some very good Jewish friends at the time (who were all in the NDP). One of them was Cy Gonick, another was Harry Shafransky. He got to know quite a few Jewish politicians. He liked their ethics, liked their values, and so we started to look into Judaism.
“We went to see Rabbi Nesis and (the late) Rabbi Berkal, and we studied with them for two years, and then made the conversion.”
Interestingly, Berdina said that she also spoke with (the late) Rabbi Weizman, who told her that “You can’t convert – you’re already Jewish”.
“But, I said to him, ‘It’s my decision. It’s my journey. I want to do the process.’
“We had two children that we had adopted before we decided to convert – and we brought them in with us.”
I asked when this all happened?
Berdina said the conversion process went from 1973-75.
“We were officially converted in May of ’75,” she said, “and then we were married in the rabbi’s office again.”
“I sang in the Shaarey Zedek choir for 36 years,” Berdina added, “and my son, Theodore, sang in the choir for 20 years…and both kids had their bar and bat mitzvah together.”
“It was the best decision I ever made in my life,” Berdina observed. “It completed me as a human being. I finally fit – because I used to question those nuns. I must have been a real pain in the tuch.”
I asked, “Do you have relatives remaining in Holland?”
Berdina answered: “Yes, I have many.”
I asked, “Are any of them Jewish?”
She answered, “I have one cousin who recognizes himself as Jewish – and that’s it.”
I said to Berdina that what she had told me about her Jewish ancestry and her family’s subsequent conversion to Christianity, it jives with what I had read about how commonplace it was for Jews to have become Christians. I said that I recalled hearing from the late Rabbi Rappaport that only about one-quarter of all Jews in Europe remained Jewish through the years. The rest either converted willingly or by force.
During the course of our conversation, Berdina told me many more stories about her wartime experiences in the Netherlands, all of which were fascinating. Since she was only two years old by war’s end, naturally the stories she tells are one that have been recounted to her by others, but they are all worth retelling.
One that stood out for me in particular was about a Jewish doctor who was kept hidden by his Dutch housekeeper, unbeknownst to anyone else in the town. According to Berdina, when German soldiers came to the house looking for the doctor in 1940, the housekeeper said to them: “I kicked him out long ago when I knew you would be coming. He was miserable to work for and he never paid me enough.”
All through the war that housekeeper was ostracized by her fellow townspeople, as the doctor was universally loved. As Berdina told it, when the town was liberated by Canadian soldiers in 1944, the doctor emerged from the basement – where he had been kept hidden the entire period of occupation by the housekeeper.
Berdina is a great storyteller and when I asked her whether she’d be willing to tell her story to other audiences – as I had heard her do several years ago at the Shaarey Zedek, she readily agreed. If a day comes when Berdina will be able to tell her story to a new audience, I’ll be sure to post something in this paper.
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.
—
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.
