Features
How Norman Stein, a long-time teacher in Winnipeg Jewish schools transitioned into an enventful career in the music business
By BERNIE BELLAN
In May 2021 I began what was supposed to have been a two-part story about the life of a man, Norman Stein, who left an indelible impression on so many Jewish students during his teaching career in the Jewish school system, which began in the 1950s and ended in 1967.
But – I’ve long been a procrastinator; it’s taken me over two years to return to Stein’s story.
Now 91, Stein left Winnipeg many years ago, but he still recalls his years teaching here – at the Talmud Torah, Joseph Wolinsky Collegiate, and the Rosh Pina Hebrew School, with great fondness.
When I published that initial story about Stein’s teaching career, which I began by delving into his childhood growing up first on Pritchard Avenue, later on Redwood, and finally on St. Anthony, I attempted to transcribe a line in Yiddish that I had recorded Stein as saying, but I mangled that line.
Here again is the anecdote Stein related about one time when he had wandered off on a Friday evening into the Ukrainian Labour Temple on the corner of Burrows and McGregor:
“Anyway, one Erev Shabbes – I was three or four, I snuck into the theatre and the manager asked me who I was looking for?
“I told him I was looking for my mommy. He said, ‘You just sit here’, and the next thing I know I’m watching the Priscilla Lane sisters playing tennis in their white shorts. I remembered that.
“The manager called me out and said, ‘Your mother’s here now.’ And I wondered, how could that be? because my mother doesn’t even know I’m here. I go out and there’s my mother and Mrs. Rubinfield, who ran a grocery store a few doors down, and had a pay phone – which they avoided using on Shabbes – but they called the police and the police asked, ‘Is there a favourite place he likes to go?’ and my mother said I like to go to the movies, so the police said: Maybe he went to the Labour Temple.’”
As Stein explained what happened next, when he was confronted outside the Labour Temple by his mother, Mrs. Rubinfield, and a “Bobby” who was with them, in addition to being scolded for wandering into the movie theatre, the Bobby added: “And you didn’t even pay”, to which, Stein said he answered (and remember, this is a four-year-old) – and this is the line I got completely wrong: “M’tur nisht trugen kein gelt oif Shabbes” – “You mustn’t carry any money on Shabbes.”
It may have taken me 26 months for me to correct that adulteration of the Yiddish language, but when I contacted Stein again recently to ask him whether he’d be willing to continue with the story of his Winnipeg years, the first thing he told me is how miserably I had failed in trying to transcribe that line.
Despite that very grave error, however, Stein did tell me that he quite enjoyed the May 2021 interview piece. I told him that piece also evoked a very strong and warm response from many of his former students and that many of them had told me they were very much looking forward to the sequel.
I ended the first part of my story about Stein by noting that, in 1966, he was involved in a very serious car accident when his car was rear ended by a truck. He said, “That’s a period I don’t remember well… I was in a coma for some time. I was a nervous wreck. My doctor suggested I go to some place relaxing, so I went to Hollywood.”
Thus began the next chapter of Norman Stein’s life, which we now take up here:
Stein was working for RCA Records in the A&R (artists & repertoire) department. One day a young, barefoot Black girl came in with a demo tape. She said her name was Natalie Cole (daughter of Nat King Cole).
Stein asked her why she didn’t take her demo tape to Capitol Records, since that’s where Nat King Cole had a recording contract? “She said she didn’t want to be attached to his apron strings,” Stein explained.
Apparently though, Natalie Cole was upset with Stein “and she stormed out of there.” I asked Stein whether there were any other memorable moments from his time in California, and he mentioned that he was still in the United States during the time of the Six-Day War in June 1967.
“The Israeli Philharmonic was touring in the States at the time and I did some PR for them. There was a celebratory concert at the Hollywood Bowl and the guest artist was Jack Benny.”
While he was still in California, Rabbi Witty, who was the then-principal of the Talmud Torah and Joseph Wolinsky Collegiate had phoned Stein and had asked him whether he would be prepared to resume teaching the humanities courses that he had taught to students in Grades 7-12 at JWC for years, including courses in the history of music and the history of art, philosophy, and library science.
I remember taking Stein’s course on the history of art. Part of the course was devoted to a study of architecture. Stein recalled how enthusiastic so many of the students in my particular class were when he gave us an assignment to “take photographs of sites in Winnipeg that would be comparable to some in Ancient Greece by the way they photographed.”
Stein did resume teaching those courses in the fall of 1967, but when he asked to take a leave of absence to attend various music conventions, Tamara Wiseman, who was the vice-principal of the Talmud Torah at the time thought that “it wasn’t fair to the students that I had to leave town to go to conventions to pursue a career in music,” and without even being given a chance to say good bye to his students, Stein was told that he should just “leave.”
I said to Stein that I had heard from someone by the name of John Einarson, who is arguably Manitoba’s foremost music historian – and who gave a brilliant presentation during a recent Jewish Heritage Centre event titled “The Soundtracks of our Lives” about Jewish musicians in Winnipeg through the years, that Einarson had worked for Stein at a time when Stein was selling records out of the back of Strain’s Camera Store on Portage Avenue.
I asked Stein whether he began doing that around the time his teaching career ended (in 1967)?
“We couldn’t get into Polo Park (because Polo Park wouldn’t allow a record store at that time) so we opened in the back of Strain’s (which was owned by the late Manny Wiseman. One of Manny Wiseman’s sons, Bob, went on to become one of the founding members of Blue Rodeo.)
“People were only going up to the camera department and we rarely got anyone coming into our section,” Stein observed.
In 1969, Stein made the move that was eventually to lead to a 10-year period when he achieved his greatest recognition in Winnipeg – with the opening of the famed Opus 69 record store.
“There was space above Clifford’s Ladies Wear “(at 412 Portage Avenue, the corner of Kennedy and Portage), Stein continued. (Cliffords was owned by Johnny Pollock. One of Pollocks’ sons, Harold, went on to become a renowned classical guitarist.)
Thus began Opus 69. Around the same time Stein became host of a nightly program on CKY FM called “Now Flower.” Randy Moffat was the owner of CKY at the time and he was so impressed with the program – and the number of different recordings that Stein was able to play that CKY “even put a console in Opus 69 with live broadcasting by a DJ between noon and 6 pm.”
I remarked that I remember well that second floor location for Opus 69 and how popular it was.
Stein suggested “that small location became the most popular record store in Winnipeg.”
In a 2016 article for the Free Press, John Einarson wrote about the huge impression Opus 69 made on music fans in Winnipeg when it first opened: “Once Opus 69 opened in the spring of 1969 on Kennedy Street just south of Portage, above an optometrist’s shop, it became my destination for music. Opus 69 specialized almost exclusively in rock music and had the most extensive selection in the city, including imported recordings, as well as listening stations to sample before you purchased.
“I remember the first time my friend and I did that, never having used headphones before,” recalls Grant Edwards.“We were busy yelling to each other until one of the workers asked us to please stop yelling as no one else in the store was listening to headphones.”
Unfortunately, while owner Norman Stein had great taste in records, his business acumen was wanting, and when Opus 69 moved to the more spacious ground-floor store on Kennedy north of Portage in the early ’70s it was under new ownership. However, it continued to boast a wide selection and knowledgeable staff.”
Around the same time that Stein was running Opus 69 he also had a company called “Campus Records Distributors,” which sold records to university bookstores across Canada. Campus Records was eventually bought by Deutsche Grammaphone.
As John Einarson noted, “Opus 69 moved to a new location on Kennedy Street (across from what used to be the Town and Country), but by the early 1970s Norman Stein was no longer the owner.” (He told me, during our interview, that he didn’t want to get into what happened with the business. Suffice to say that, by 1979, Opus was in receivership. Stein had long been out of the picture when that happened.)
Stein said that he remained in Winnipeg with his ailing mother until she passed, in 1980. Shortly thereafter, he moved to Vancouver. He did talk about his career in Vancouver, but I said to him that I preferred to keep the focus on Winnipeg.
Before our conversation ended though, Stein said he wanted to tell me one more story from his childhood – when he was about four. The story had to do with the quaint Jewish custom of “shlogn kapores,” during which on Erev Yom Kippur a chicken (or a rooster) is waved over one’s head and one’s sins are transferred to said chicken or rooster.
Here’s how Stein described how the ritual was practiced in his home – and what happened one year: “You have a tablecloth over a table, you take the live rooster and swing it around your head and say certain prayers from a Siddur (prayer book). When you do that you put the live rooster under the table, then you take it to the shochet for Yom Tov.
“Well, this rooster kept pecking at my wrists and hurting me but I was holding on tight, so I threw the rooster under the table. When I pulled it out, it had a limp neck. It was dead. I bawled my head off because it meant the rooster could not have absorbed all my sins. My mother was upset because she didn’t have a tarnigol (Hebrew for rooster) for Yom Tov.”
I asked: “Because it wasn’t slaughtered properly?”
Stein replied: “How could it be slaughtered? I choked it to death. It had an overdose of sins!”
I said to him that so many of his former students offered reminiscences, both in our newspaper and in the Facebook group “1950s and 60s Winnipeg Jewish Students”, about his having been their teacher, that I wondered whether he would be amenable to hearing from former students.
I mentioned to him that one of the contributors to that Facebook group was David Steinberg. I asked Stein whether he had ever had Steinberg as a student? That led him to tell this story:
“When I was teaching in the Rosh Pina Hebrew School the synagogue youth group had socials and David performed his jokes on stage. As I was teaching him, he knew, as an opportunist, that I had some connections with Chicago. He wanted to go to Second City – the famous comedy thing. He could not get in, but he could if he was a yeshiva student. So I wrote a letter to the yeshiva on his behalf and he got accepted into the Hebrew Theological College (from where Stein had also graduated) and, after that the Rosh Yeshiva said to me: ’So where is your David Steinberg?’ He disappeared after a while and Second City had rented in the Jewish community centre across the street from the yeshiva. I never saw him again until one year – it was around 1970, I went to Greenwich Village and saw a poster for a folk music group. At the bottom it said ‘opening act: David Steinberg.’
“A door opened and who comes out but David Steinberg? I said ‘Dudi?’ and he said, ‘Uh, your face is a little familiar…Oh yes, Norman, here’s my business card and we’ll have coffee in my private apartment ….and I never went to his apartment.”
I asked Stein whethe he would be amenable to my putting his phone number into this article so that former students could get in touch with him.
Although each time I’ve phoned Stein, we’ve had very pleasant conversations, I’m not sure whether he would have the stamina to engage in phone convesations on a regular basis with former students. Still, if he’s tired or preoccupied doing something else, I’m sure he would let anyone know. And, even though he says he has trouble remembering things, I certainly didn’t find that to be the case. Stein did say that he wouldn’t have any objection to my putting his phone number into this article, so here it is: 1-604-269-0961. Remember, he’s in Vancouver, so bear in mind the time zone that he’s in if you do plan on calling him.
Features
60 years plus one – since the first Ramah Hebrew School graduating class… and counting
(August 2025) Submitted by Martin A. Koyle (Denver, Colorado), Judy L. (Shenkarow) Pollock (San Diego, California), and Lorne Billinkoff (Winnipeg, Manitoba)
It is now a year since the three of us had a unique opportunity to reconvene with 11 other septuagenarians to share memories of an event that occurred 60 years ago. In August 2024, 14 graduates of the inaugural class of 16 students at Shaarey Zedek Hebrew Day School, which ultimately became Ramah Hebrew School and later, part of Gray Academy, met to celebrate our graduation in 1964.
Many of our families had migrated to the River Heights area (when there were no Mathers or Taylor Avenues) from the North End, where the Talmud Torah and Joseph Wolinsky Collegiate were foundations in that established community. None of us have any idea how the first “South End” Jewish school was conceived or funded, but we credited our parents, who had the “sechel” and belief that we, as Grade 2 students, would essentially be guinea pigs in the founding of a parochial, half-day English, half-day Hebrew school in that growing area of Winnipeg.
All of us had been in the Winnipeg Public School system prior to that radical shift, but we had also attended evening school at Shaarey Zedek Synagogue on Wellington Crescent and Academy Road where, like other students, we enjoyed chocolate milk, shortbread cookies and Wagon Wheels, along with friendship with the caretakers, Steve and Metro.
Top Row (L-R): Harold Steiman, Brian Sharfstein, Ken Wolch, Marty Koyle, Peter Mendelsohn, David Goldstein, Ted Rosenstock, Howie Wiseman
Bottom Row: Lorne Billinkoff, Stephen Plotkin, Sam Miller, Maureen Shafer, Judy Shenkarow, Ruth Lehmann
Of the 14 former students of that first Shaarey Zedek Day School class who attended last year’s reunion, there were representatives from California, Colorado, Florida, Toronto, and Vancouver, along with those who had remained in Winnipeg.
The first night we convened at the Tuxedo home of Ashley Leibl (who had joined our class in Grade 3). Of course, Winnipeg style delicatessen was served in abundance. The next evening, along with significant others, friends and their spouses, we shared a dinner at Alena Rustic Italian Restaurant in Charleswood, after being given a tour of what was then the renovating Shaarey Zedek Synagogue.
Judy Shenkarow hosted a post-Winnipeg get together in her family cottage on Prospect in Winnipeg Beach (which has belonged to generations of her family), and which she continues to enjoy despite the long drive each year from San Diego – and in a Tesla no less!
Throughout our all too brief time with one another, we reminisced about stories of our English teachers: Mrs. Smith, Mrs. Beckett, Mrs. Tallboom, and Mr. Lightbody; also our Israeli Hebrew teachers: Mrs. Lachter, and husband and wife couples: the Wernicks, Kamils, and Dafnais.
We were fortunate to also have had Myer Silverman as our principal throughout our five years as students. The esteemed (and beloved by us) educator Morag Harpley, previously the Supervisor of Primary Grades in the Winnipeg School Division, joined the administration in 1963 as Supervisor and Chief Consultant.
The brand-new Shaarey Zedek School, as it was first known, was constructed on land at the corner of Lanark and Grant and was quite a distance from the synagogue. I doubt that any adult today would let their kids play anywhere close to the swamps that were part of the school grounds at that time. We, however, took twigs and branches and old building materials left over from the school construction, to build forts and dams and to play games of war, while wearing high rubber boots and water proof pants, frequently returning after recesses soaking wet.
As new classes were enrolled, we were always the most senior class. Given this seniority, we were given the responsibility of being appointed the first safety patrols, posts which we held for the entire five years we were there. During those five years, we lost a few initial students, but gained others. As we entered Grade 5, Shaarey Zedek merged with Herzlia Academy Day School and the name was changed to Ramah Hebrew School. By the time our class reached Grade 6, the enrollment in our grade had become large enough to mandate splitting us into two classrooms.
Our education had added value on the occasional weekends when some of the fathers would host learning weekend events where we went to offices or homes, learned how to take X-rays, listen to a heart or, in a chemistry lab – make copper sulfate crystals.
Some of us were driven or car-pooled by our parents while others took public transit, or had arrangements made to take taxis back and forth. In those days, you could buy five public bus tickets for 30 cents. Ted Rosenstock’s mother, Lottie, actually petitioned Winnipeg Transit and the City of Winnipeg to expand the Grant bus service beyond the railway tracks, which at that time only extended to Borebank. Lottie pointed out the potential dangers of young children having to cross the tracks and walk all the way to Lanark!
Some of us who lived not far from Grant became more industrious as we got older and would walk back and forth, rather than take the bus. This allowed us to save those bus fare pennies and stop at Irving Klasser’s Niagara Drugs to buy chocolate bars, which were only 10 cents back then.
Since distances and transportation made lunchtime impossible for most of us to return home, most of us had packed lunches, which we often shared. Myer’s Delicatessen was the only eatery close by, and it was a treat to have Chicago Kosher (RIP) products for lunch at the small counter there as an occasional treat.
Perhaps a unique requirement to the English and Hebrew education we received was that we were required to attend synagogue services as a religious component of our studies. The Shacharit services at the Shaarey Zedek were led by us every Saturday as the Junior Choir, directed by Jack Garland from Grade 2 and all the way through our B’nai Mitzvot dates in 1964/1965. By those years we had all matriculated back into the Winnipeg Public School System.
Despite our somewhat cloistered environment for the five years at Ramah, we assimilated without difficulty into the public school systems, principally at Grant Park and River Heights.
Despite the challenges of having to participate in Saturday services for those five years, we gained many benefits from working closely with Shaarey Zedek Cantor Rabbi Louis Berkal, along with then-Rabbi Milton Aron. Given the plethora of baby boomers from our generation and not enough Shabbats in 1964-1965 to allow us to celebrate our Bar or Bat Mitzvot individually, we coordinated these events as pairs, usually with our fellow Ramah classmates.
In 2015, in Toronto, Kenny Wolch and Marty Koyle re-recited their 1965 Haftorahs at Narayver Synagogue, with the same tropes that Jack Garland had taught them. No less than 28 Winnipegers attended the simcha.
Importantly, through our five years together, we became a community of lifelong friends. We had met previously in Winnipeg in 2004 to celebrate the 40th anniversary of our graduation at a time where some surviving parents were still able to join us.
The warmth and sense of “mischpochah” thrives now into its seventh decade. We still marvel at how our parents and the Shaarey Zedek had the vision and faith that led to these foundations. Classmate Harold Steinman (Vancouver), whom most of us had not seen since high school, summed up our reunion appropriately, stating that it “filled a void in my heart!”
Features
More Than the Price: What Discount Culture and Screen Printed T-Shirts Tell Us About Identity and Community
Amidst the era where we’re inclined to speak in hashtags and memes, there remains something quietly powerful in the humble T-shirt—specifically the screen-printed t-shirt. Whether a frayed band tee from a 1998 concert or a crisp cotton shirt promoting some issue of the day, the T-shirt is a storyteller. And when these discounted T-shirts become more accessible, they are democratized, stories made more widely available, somehow ironically more valuable to the people wearing them.
In Jewish life, value has never been two-dimensional. Value is ethical. Value is social. And value, every now and then, is found in the rim of a bargain bin, where meaning isn’t lost, but amplified.
The Discount: A Jewish Perspective on Value
Discounts are typically considered in strictly economic terms: “Was it a good deal?” “How much did you save?” But in most Jewish cultures, there is an additional component: mindful spending. Whether through the bal tashchit principle (not wasting resources) or the practice of tzedakah (charity), Jewish religious doctrine will tend to encourage mindful consumption. A discount isn’t always getting more for less—sometimes it’s about transferring value, leaving cash on the neighborhood high street, or making room in your budget for what counts.
If a tiny Jewish-owned T-shirt store sells screen printed shirt specials for a discounted price during a synagogue fundraiser or youth pilgrimage to Israel, that discounted price sticker doesn’t cheapen the product—it maximizes its purpose. It’s not just a cheap wearable memory; it’s meaningful.
Screen Printed T-Shirts: Textile Torah on the Streets
Screen printed T-shirts are not merchandise—they’re message on wheels. Think of them as contemporary mezuzot, but not on the door, on the person. They announce affiliations, values, and sense of humor. They say: “This is who I am.” And in some Jewish communities, they’ve proved a powerful vehicle for unity and visibility.
From “Camp Shalom 2024” tees to “Shabbat Vibes Only” tees, screen printed shirts have become shorthand. For moments of communal joy—or despair—they’ve become uniform and uniforming. To collect money for Jewish causes, mark a bar mitzvah, or spread word about antisemitism, these T-shirts transcend fashion. They become statements.
And when these tees do become available on sale—after the game or through community programs—it’s not an end. It’s a start. The shirt that originally cost $30 and now costs $10 may end up in someone’s hands who couldn’t have bought it otherwise but wears it with the same, or even more, pride.
Discounted Doesn’t Mean Disconnected
There’s a sweet humility in something that’s undervalued—not because it’s less desirable, but because it’s got a second life to live.
Within Jewish mysticism is the principle of tikkun olam—repairing the world. In a small way, each discounted T-shirt that finds its second home brings us one step closer to this reality. A surplus of camp tops reformatted as pajamas at a homeless shelter. Unused Hanukkah tees donated to local teens. Or just, a well-constructed shirt brought into reach for a young person seeking to express himself.
Discount culture, in this case, is not consumer culture—it’s access. It’s about opening up symbols of identity, solidarity, and protest to greater populations. For communities like Winnipeg’s Jewish community—tight-knit, heritage-grounded, and always pushing forward—this involves ensuring that belonging to culture is never out of reach because of a price.
Printing the Future: T-Shirts as Tools for Cultural Continuity
When younger generations discover themselves, especially in diasporic societies, the tools with which they take hold of themselves change. While one may have sported a siddur on the sleeve, another will sport a message on their chest. That does not make it any less sacred—it merely makes it different.
And while a $5 shirt on sale might not feel like a sacred object, if it sparks a conversation about Israel, inspires curiosity about Yiddish, or gives someone the courage to say, “Yes, I’m Jewish,” then it has value far beyond retail.
Screen printed tees are becoming historical documents. They inform us about what people care about, what they are fighting for, what they are laughing at, and what they are daydreaming about. And because of commerce, more people can be a part of that visual conversation.
The Takeaway: Don’t Underestimate the Cotton
The next time you spot a rack of reduced-rate screen-printed T-shirts—whether at a Jewish community center, synagogue gift shop, or Internet site—see past the discount. Consider who produced the shirt, who first wore it, and who will next wear it. Reflect on the message emblazoned across the chest, and the community that wears it.
Because in an age of throwaway messages and fast fashion, all too often it is the simple cotton shirt—worn from use, screen-printed with purpose, and sold cheaply through sale—that does the lion’s share of cultural preservation.
Features
Don’t Ignore antisemitism on the Right
By HENRY SREBRNIK Most of us know that currently most antisemitism, usually masked as “anti-Zionism,” can be found on the left of the political spectrum in Canada and the United States, thanks to the hatred of Israel. The Jewish state is being isolated internationally, and its Jewish supporters harassed and attacked domestically. And since the political left controls much, if not most, of academia, the media, the “human rights” organizations, and other essential components of society, its negative effects are profound.
On the right, we find far more support of Israel. But this doesn’t mean we should ignore an atavistic, somewhat “old-fashioned,” form of antisemitism on the far right, particularly in the U.S. These people support isolationism in foreign policy. The most explosive issue involves Jews. They see neoconservatives – mainly Jews — as imperialists and themselves as defenders of the republic, including even against President Donald Trump himself.
They are obsessed with the idea of Israel as a uniquely evil force in world history and American Jews as a malignant fifth column. Was the recent striking of Iran’s nuclear program by Trump in America’s national interest, or a needless sacrifice for the Israel lobby, they asked?
Most prominent in this group is the talk show commentator Tucker Carlson. In the paranoid version of world events concocted by Carlson and his guests, it is the “neocons” who drive America to war in the Middle East, motivated by Israeli prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s insatiably expansionist ambitions.
The day after Israel commenced Operation Rising Lion against Iran, Carlson suggested the U.S. military was being controlled by Netanyahu. “Earlier this week, unnamed Washington sources expressed concern over Israel’s ability to fend off Iran’s retaliation, which would inevitably lead to Benjamin Netanyahu ordering the American military to step in and fight on his country’s behalf,” Carlson wrote in a newsletter. “We’re not going to imperil American national security, the American economy, or America itself on your behalf,” he continued.
At the conservative Turning Point USA (TPUSA) conference in July, Carlson also claimed that deceased convicted child sex trafficker Jeffrey Epstein was working for Israel’s Mossad. He said it is “extremely obvious” that Epstein “had direct connections to a foreign government.” Carlson went on: “Now, no one’s allowed to say that that foreign government is Israel, because we have been somehow cowed into thinking that that’s naughty.”
At a debate at TPUSA between comedian Dave Smith and conservative intellectual Josh Hammer about U.S. support for Israel, Smith asserted that “The level of Israeli control over our politics is frankly pretty undeniable.” He called Trump “a war criminal who should spend his life in prison.”
Congresswoman Marjorie Taylor Greene of Georgia, elected in 2020, initially made headlines for an antisemitic conspiracy theory she shared in 2018 suggesting that deadly California wildfires were caused by alleged Jewish space lasers controlled by the Rothschild family. She has gone on to further infamy. This past June she appeared to suggest in a post on X that former President John F. Kennedy was assassinated in 1963 over his opposition to Israel’s nuclear program.
“There was once a great President that the American people loved. He opposed Israel’s nuclear program. And then he was assassinated,” Greene posted as she also defended her dissatisfaction with Trump’s strike on Iran.
She and Carlson shocked viewers after praising New York mayoral candidate and socialist Zohran Mamadani for how he ran his campaign after he won the New York mayoralty Democratic Party primary. “That guy was the only person in the New York City mayor’s debate to say he wanted to focus on New York City,” Carlson said on the June 27 episode of “The Tucker Carlson Show,” with Greene as his guest.
While Greene and Carlson strongly disagreed with Mamdani’s vision for the city, they praised him for running a New York City-centered campaign, noting his answer during a Democratic debate where candidates were asked what foreign country they would visit.
“I think most said Israel,” Carlson stated. “And he said, ‘I wouldn’t go anywhere. I’d stay in New York and like, if I want to meet Jewish constituents, I go to their synagogues, their homes or whatever, but I’d be here in New York because that’s what I’m doing. I’m running New York. That’s my job.’” Responded Greene: “Well, he gave the right answer.”
Another prominent antisemite who has condemned Trump’s support of Israel in the “Twelve-Day War” with Iran is Candace Owens. “This was not Trump’s decision; it was Bibi Netanyahu’s decision,” Owens told TV host Piers Morgan. “And that is the reason that he did it. We’re very aware that Israel is dictating our foreign policy, and we’d now like that to stop.” Like Greene, Owens has suggested that AIPAC, the pro-Israel lobbying group, was responsible for President Kennedy’s assassination.
Owens worked for a time at the right-wing youth conservative movement Turning Point USA, where she began to gain a following, including Ye, formerly known as Kanye West, who later appeared in public with her before he went on a string of antisemitic rants. She has made and endorsed numerous comments with roots in antisemitic stereotypes, including the blood libel, and her views have been praised by avowed white supremacist and Holocaust denier Nick Fuentes.
Given that the Democratic Party has basically begun to abandon Israel, should the antisemitic right gain control of the Republican Party MAGA movement, Jews in America, and Israel internationally, would be left in a perilous position similar to the 1939-1941 period. That was when the America First isolationists, many of them fascists, and the Communist Party fellow travellers joined hands in refusing to oppose Hitler, following the notorious Molotov-Ribbentrop nonaggression pact (also known as the Hitler-Stalin Pact) between Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, signed that August 23, 1939. As we know, it led to the Second World War and the Holocaust.
Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.