Features
In the case of “The Ninth Terrorist”, how closely does art imitate life?
By BERNIE BELLAN A while back I was sent a link by reader Morley Bernstein to a very interesting story that happened to be on the CBC website. The story was about longtime hockey guru Sherry Bassin, who has spent a good part of his life managing hockey teams at various levels.
This particular story had to do with an episode in Bassin’s life that happened in 1983, when he was the assistant coach and general manager of Canada’s national junior team.
When I read the story my first thought was to try to obtain reprint rights from the CBC itself. But, to my chagrin, the CBC wanted way more than I was prepared to pay to reprint that story, so I decided not to do pursue that avenue.
Then, I began reading “The Ninth Terrorist”. If you read my accompanying review on the opposite page you’ll see that a good part of that book also has to do with a hockey tournament in Russia and, as was the case with Sherry Bassin, about a Canadian Jew wanting to help Russian Jews through subterfuge.
Here, in a nutshell, is what Sherry Bassin did back in 1983. What follows is based upon that original CBC story, written by someone by the name of Gary Waleik. My story also includes references to a phone conversation I had with Sherry, with whom I was able to get in touch from his Oshawa home.
What transpired in 1983 was Canada’s national junior team’s going to Leningrad to play in the World Junior Championship that year. About a month before the tournament was to begin, Sherry told me, he had the idea that he could do something useful for the Jewish community of Leningrad.
He decided to purchase a great many tallisim (prayer shawls) and sidurim (prayer books), all at his own expense, and smuggle them into Russia.
I asked Sherry what motivated him to do that – especially considering that he was taking a great risk that, if discovered, he could be arrested?
He said to me that his father had come to Canada from Ukraine. When his father was only seven, Sherry told me, he was sitting on a watertower with some friends in his hometown one day, when a pogrom broke out. To his father’s horror, he watched as Ukrainians and Jews fought a bloody battle, leaving many Jews dead. Seeing that left an indelible mark on Bassin senior – but it was also something that carried over into Sherry’s identity as a Jew.
Although hockey was his passion as a youth, Sherry realized that he would never make it to the pros, so he decided to seek an education instead. According to Gary Waleik’s story, “Bassin earned a Juris Doctorate, a Masters in hospital administration and a Ph.D in pharmacy. He spent decades as a college professor, pharmacist, junior hockey coach and team general manager. He also worked as a television color commentator and served as assistant general manager of the NHL’s Quebec Nordiques.”
Then, as already noted, in 1983, Bassin took upon himself the mitzvah of transporting sidurim and tallisim to what was then still the Soviet Union.
He hid the religious articles among the hockey bags of the players on the team – with their consent. But, as Waelik describes in his article, “In December 1982, with the beginning of the tournament just days away, the Canadian team boarded a train in Helsinki bound for Leningrad. When it reached the Russian border Bassin recalls, ‘The soldiers came on the train. One was a commissioned officer, and two of his assistants. And they’re holding rifles. One guy’s pointing it at me.’ ”
The soldiers confiscated the bags, much to Bassin’s chagrin. He knew he would have to get to them before any Soviet official did, so Bassin had to act quickly. According to Waelik’s article, Bassin was asked to produce a lineup of the Canadian team for one of the tournament organizers. Thinking quickly, Bassin said the lineup was in one of the bags that was confiscated.
However, during my phone conversation with Bassin, he had a slightly different version of what happened. He told me that he was able to get in touch with the deputy mayor of Leningrad and, at 2:30 in the morning, arrangements were made to get the hockey bags back to the team’s hotel. No one had opened them.
So, the next morning, Bassin, along with a box full of tallisim and sidurim, took a cab to the Leningrad synagogue. (There was only one synagogue, Bassin explained).
“The cab driver told me there was no way he was going to drive all the way to the synagogue (no doubt thinking the KGB had it under surveillance), so he dropped me off a block from the synagogue.”
He shlepped that heavy box to the front door of the synagogue and went inside. The 40 or so men who were there suspected he was a KGB agent, until he reassured them he wasn’t.
At that point the men began “rejoicing like you wouldn’t believe,” Bassin said. “They were dancing and singing, hugging me, and they wanted to give me an aliyah.”
The rest of Waelik’s story deals with the hockey tournament (in which Canada finished third, despite having such future stars of the NHL on the team as Mario Lemieux, Steve Yzerman, and Dave Andreychuk).
But, in my conversation with Bassin, he recalled one more colourful anecdote. The KGB kept a constant watch on Bassin and the rest of the team, he told me. One day he wanted to take a cab from the team’s hotel and, although there were loads of cabs outside, none of them would give him a ride.
The reason, he explained, was that there was a big car parked nearby, in which a KGB agent was sitting – and who was not trying to hide his presence. When the KGB agent saw that none of the cab drivers would pick Bassin up, he himself drove over to Bassin and asked him where he was going? Bassin told him.
“Hop in,” he said to Bassin. “I’ll give you a ride.”
During the course of the ride, Bassin asked the agent where he had learned to speak English.
“I went to university in Washington,” he answered. The agent went on to explain that different agents would get sent to different countries to further their educations and learn the languages of those countries.
While Bassin could certainly have taken pride in revealing what he had done to help Soviet Jews back in 1983, he kept what happened to himself for years afterward (although his wife had been aware of his plan, he told me, and had offered her full support. He also only told his father what he had done after he returned from Russia.)
“I didn’t want to get anyone in trouble,” he said to me – in case Russian authorities would have heard about his escapade and exacted some form of punishment upon the Jews of Leningrad who had met Bassin.
While “The Ninth Terrorist” tells a different story, the parallels between fiction and reality in that hockey tournaments in Russia provided perfect cover for subterfuge in both the book and, in Sherry Bassin’s case – in reality, that ended up helping Jews in that country, and which certainly makes for interesting reading.
Features
I know exactly why leftists aren’t celebrating this ceasefire
Relief that the fighting may be at an end is one thing. Joy — after all this suffering — is another
This story was originally published in the Forward. Click here to get the Forward’s free email newsletters delivered to your inbox.
“We can’t hear you, Zohran,” read one New York Post headline this week: “Pro-Hamas crowd goes quiet on Trump’s Gaza peace deal.”
“It seems awfully curious that the people who have made Gazans a central political cause do not seem at all relieved that there’s at least a temporary cessation of violence … Why aren’t there widespread celebrations across Western cities and college campuses today?” the article asked.
The Post wasn’t alone in voicing that question. A spokesperson for the Republican Jewish Coalition posted on X that “The silence from the ‘ceasefire now’ crowd is shameful and deafening.” Others went so far as to imply that the protesters had been lying and never actually wanted a ceasefire — because what they really wanted wasn’t freedom and security for Palestinians, but the ability to blame Israel. If pro-Palestinian voices had really wanted a ceasefire, the thinking went, they would be celebrating.
I read these various posts and articles and thought of Rania Abu Anza.
I have thought of her every day since I first read her story in early March 2024. Anza spent a decade trying to have a child through in vitro fertilization. When her twins, a boy and a girl, were five months old, an Israeli strike killed them. It also killed her husband and 11 other members of her family.
A year and a half later, a ceasefire cannot bring her children, her husband, or her 11 family members back. They were killed. They will stay dead. What is there to celebrate?
This does not mean that the ceasefire is not welcome, or that it is not a relief. On the contrary: It is both. Of course it’s a relief that the families of hostages don’t need to live one more day in torment and anguish. Of course it’s a relief that more bombs will not fall on Gaza.
But celebration implies, to me anyway, that this is a positive without caveats. And in this situation, there are so many caveats.
The families of the surviving hostages will still have spent years apart from their loved ones, in no small part because their own government did not treat the hostages’ return as the single highest priority. The families of those hostages who were killed in the war will never again sit down to dinner with their loved ones, who could have been saved. And it is difficult to fathom what’s been taken from the hostages themselves: time spent out exploring the world, or with family and friends, or at home doing nothing much at all but sitting safely in quiet contemplation.
And a ceasefire alone will not heal Israeli society, or return trust to the people in their government. It will not fix some of the deep societal problems this war uncovered. A Chatham House report this August found that: “Israeli television ignores the suffering of Palestinians in Gaza, while the rhetoric is often aggressive. Critical voices, from inside Israel or abroad, are attacked or silenced.” If the country is ever going to find its way back from Oct. 7 and this war, a ceasefire is a necessary precondition, but not a route in and of itself.
In Gaza, Palestinian health authorities have said that about 67,000 people — not distinguishing between combatants and civilians — have been killed by Israel’s campaign in response to Oct. 7. A full third of those killed were under the age of 18. The ceasefire cannot bring those children back to life.
It cannot turn back time and make it such that Israel admitted more than minimal aid to the embattled strip. It will not undo the damage that has been done to the people of Gaza who were denied enough to eat and drink and proper medical care. It will not give children back their parents, or parents back their children. It will not heal the disabled, or make it so that they were never wounded.
It will not change that all of this happened with the backing of the United States government. (This is to say nothing of the West Bank, which has seen a dramatic expansion of Israeli settlements and escalation of settler violence over the course of the war). And as American Jewish groups put out statements cheering the ceasefire, we should also remember that it does not reverse the reality that too many American Jews were cheerleaders for all this death.
Protesters calling for a ceasefire have regularly been denounced as hateful toward Jews or callous toward the plight of Israelis; American Jews who called for one were called somehow un-Jewish. (Yes, some pro-Palestinian protesters also shared hate toward Jews; the much greater majority did not.) The charge of antisemitism — toward those calling for a ceasefire, those calling for a free Palestine, and those who called attention to Israel’s abuses during this war — was used to silence criticism of Israel and of U.S. foreign policy. Some American Jews went so far as to call for the deportation of students protesting the war.
A ceasefire doesn’t change any of that. It can’t.
I have hopes for this ceasefire. At best, it will allow people — Israelis and Palestinians and, yes, diaspora Jews — to chart a new, better course going forward. But it almost certainly will not do that if we delude ourselves into thinking of this as a victory or a kind of tabula rasa, as though the lives lost and hate spewed are all behind us, forgotten, atoned for. The last two years will never not have happened. What happens next depends on all of us fully appreciating that.
This story was originally published on the Forward.
Features
New book about a man who helped to save the lives of 200,000 Hungarian Jews
Reviewed by BERNIE BELLAN I have to admit that, as much as I consider myself reasonably informed about the history of the Holocaust, I had never heard of Rudolf Vrba.
Further, when it comes to an understanding of what happened to Hungary’s Jewish population, it’s the story of Swedish diplomat Raoul Wallenberg that comes foremost to mind.
But now, after having read a new book by Canadian journalist Alan Twigg, titled “Holocaust Hero – The Life & Times of Rudolf Vrba,” I have a much better understanding of what happened to Hungarian Jewry.
There were approximately 800,000 Jews alive in Hungary at the beginning of World War II and, even though 63,000 Hungarian Jews had been murdered by their fellow Hungarians prior to Germany’s entry into Hungary in March 1944 (with the willing cooperation of Hungarian authorities), by the end of World War II only about 200,000 Hungarian Jews remained alive. Of the Jews who were murdered by the Nazis, 424,000 were sent to their deaths in Auschwitz-Birkenau – in a relatively short period of time: between April and July, 1944.
There would have been many more Hungarian Jews who would have been sent to Auschwitz-Birkenau, however, were it not for the heroism of two individuals who actually managed to escape from Auschwitz in April 1944: Rudolf Vrba and Alfred Wetzler.
While there have been many books written describing how those two brave men managed to escape Auschwitz (and there were only six individuals who managed to do that the entire time Auschwitz was in existence as the largest death camp in the history of the world), Rudolf Vrba’s story is one that should be of particular interest to Canadians because Vrba actually lived in Canada for 31 years of this life, when he was a very well respected professor of biochemistry at the University of British Columbia.
Now, with a recently released book by a well known Canadian historian and journalist by the name of Alan Twigg, a much more complete account of Vrba’s story, beginning with his childhood in Slovakia and ending with a long interview with Vrba’s second wife, Robin Vrba, is available.
Here are the first two paragraphs taken from Twigg’s introduction to the book, which describe in a nutshell why Vrba deserves to be celebrated: “This first volume of a two-volume biography asserts there was much more to Rudolf Vrba than his escape from Auschwitz and his subsequent report that saved 200,000 lives. An outstanding medical researcher, Vrba submitted testimony at the Eichmann trial, pursued war criminals, served globally as a riveting public speaker and combatted Holocaust denialists.
“Under his birth name Walter Rosenberg, he survived…24 near-death experiences over a three-year period as a teenager… At 20, he fought in ten life-threatening battles as a Partisan in the mountains of Slovakia and became a decorated war hero. Rudolf Vrba was a Jew who fought back.”
Twigg explains that this book deals mostly with Vrba’s life up to 1946 and that a second volume will explore his quite successful career as a biochemist.
What emerges though, from Twigg’s account of Vrba’s life is unbridled admiration for Vrba’s brilliance – as someone who could make instant assessments of life or death situations and, no matter how fraught with danger the wrong choice could entail, retained his composure and thought his way through to survival.
Born Walter Rosenberg, Vrba was eventually given the alias Rudolf Vrba by Jewish authorities in Slovakia, which is to where he escaped from Auschwitz with Wetzler in April 1944. Rather than reverting to Walter Rosenberg following the war he kept the name Rudolf Vrba.
Twigg provides a great deal of information about Vrba’s early life throughout the book, but what is sure to grab the reader’s attention and want to make even someone who might not be all that interested in reading something about a Holocaust survivor is the introduction in which Twigg lists the 24 different experiences that Vrba survived as a teenager, each of which – had they gone the wrong way, could very well have ended with his death.
The fact that Vrba was one of only six Jews to have escaped Auschwitz is amazing in itself, but it is what he – along with Wetzler, did after escaping that makes one wonder why he hasn’t received greater recognition in Canada – and which leads Twigg to want to correct that grave injustice.
Vrba and Wetzler wrote down what they had witnessed happening in Auschwitz-Birkenau in a 20-page report that was given to Slovakian Jewish authorities and which became known as the “Vrba-Wetzler Report.” It provided detailed information about the large scale extermination of what the report calculated were 1,765,000 Jews between April 1942 and April 1944, all of whom had been murdered in Auschwitz-Birkenau.
Vrba had an incredible memory for detail and it was the figures that he entered into the report that came to be accepted as quite accurate when they were later corroborated by the testimony of others, including the most notorious commandant of Auschwitz, Rudolf Hoss (or Hoess).
Although Vrba only arrived in Auschwitz in June 1942, he based his calculations on what he saw transpiring every day that he was there, when he witnessed the number of trains arriving daily, how many boxcars were part of each train (45 on average), and how many people were stuffed into each boxcar (60 on average).
While the report did receive dissemination among various Western European and American authorities, Twigg argues that it was deliberately suppressed by leaders of the Hungarian Jewish community – who had been well aware of the report around the same time mass deportations of Hungarian Jews began in April 1944. Germany had not entered into Hungary until March 1944 and the Hungarian Jewish community was the last Jewish community to be largely extinguished during the war.
A major part of Twigg’s book deals with Vrba’s contention that one man in particular, Rudolf Kastner, who was head of what was known as the Budapest Aid and Rescue Committee, and who was well aware of the Vrba-Wetzler Report, could have used his influence to warn Hungarian Jews about their impending fate at the hands of the Nazis but, for whatever reasons he may have had, chose not to do so. (Twigg does describe though, a deal Kastner made with Adolph Eichmann, who was in charge of Germany’s extermination program in Hungary, to save the lives of 1600 Hungarian Jews, many of whom were either friends or relatives of Kastner.) The contempt with which Vrba and, in turn, Twigg, held for Kastner and those who came to his defense – including one of Israel’s most respected historians, Yehuda Bauer, emerges clearly in the book.
Eventually, however, and in no small part, due to the failure of leaders of Hungary’s Jewish community to warn their fellow Jews what fate awaited them if they followed orders to board the trains, over 400,000 Hungarian Jews were sent to their slaughter. With the total cooperation of Hungarian authorities, Jews – as they were in every other jurisdiction where they were ordered on to trains, were misled into thinking that they were simply being deported, not headed for extermination.
It was only after the Vrba-Wetzler Report gained wide dissemination, a process which Twigg describes in some detail, that pressure began to mount on Miklos Horthy, the “Regent” of Hungary, to stop assisting the Germans in the deportation of Hungarian Jews. (After reading other information about Horthy, however, it is not clear the extent to which Horthy was aware Jews were being sent to their deaths prior to the publication of the Vrba-Wetzler Report. Twigg does not enter into that debate.)
While “Holocaust Hero – The Life & Times of Rudolf Vrba” does tell a fascinating story, at times it does lose momentum. Perhaps because Twigg makes quite clear from the outset that he is a journalist and a historian, not a novelist, he relies upon previously written accounts, including Vrba’s own autobiography, to cobble together a narrative from a variety of different sources. What results is a book that will probably be of great interest to students of history, but not as much to those who might prefer to read a story laden with graphic imagery.
There are many instances throughout the book where Twigg takes great pains to offer substantiation for what he says happened to Vrba during the Second World War – which was undoubtedly horrifying, but because the author is so dispassionate in his writing, what Vrba endured does not come across as chillingly as one might expect.
Reading about stacking bodies in advance of their being taken to a crematorium or of sorting through the possessions of the victims – all of which Vrba did, doesn’t quite deliver the gut punch that we’ve come to expect when we see actual visual representations of the same experiences – whether it be through documentary footage or dramatizations in such films as “Schindler’s List” or , to my mind, the most riveting film ever made about what life in Auschwitz was truly like – “Son of Saul,” a Hungarian film that won the Academy Award for best foreign film in 2015.
The book contains quite a bit more information than perhaps the average reader might need to know, including a very lengthy transcript of an interview Twigg had with Vrba’s widow, Robin Vrba. While it’s somewhat interesting to read about their life together, it’s hardly germane to the story how important a role Vrba ultimately played in saving the lives of 200,000 Hungarian Jews.
Still, as we approach the anniversary of Kristallnacht, which happened 87 years ago, and which was the harbinger of what was to come for European Jewry, reading a book that describes how one individual in particular, Rudolf Vrba, not only survived the Holocaust when almost anyone else in the same situations he repeatedly encountered would have succumbed to the easy way out and accepted death, it reminds us that stories of heroism on an unimaginable level can make us realize that whatever hardships we may face in our own lives pale in comparison to what someone like Vrba endured.
“Holocaust Hero – The Life & Times of Rudolf Vrba”
By Alan Twigg
153 pages
Published by Firefly Books, September 2025
Features
Bitcoin Price Volatility: WOA Crypto – Why Cloud Mining Becomes a Safe Haven for Investors
(Posted Oct. 10, 2025) Bitcoin once again attracted market attention today, with the price around $122,259, with an intraday high of $124,138 and a low of $121,141. Driven by capital flows, ETF inflows, and macroeconomic factors, Bitcoin recently hit a new high, but encountered retracement pressure today and fluctuated widely between $121,000 and $124,000 during the initial decline.
There have been no major structural changes in capital flows. For most investors, the best way to deal with volatility is not to try to precisely time peaks and troughs, but to let assets generate returns both in the ups and downs.
Cloud Mining: A New Approach Beyond “Observing the Charts”
In a constantly volatile market, checking charts, chasing peaks (and then cutting losses) is routine—actions that often lead to emotional exhaustion and poor decision-making. Cloud mining offers a solid, rules-based revenue model.
What is cloud mining?
Cloud mining allows you to mine Bitcoin and other altcoins without having to purchase, manage, or maintain any mining hardware. Simply invest your digital assets (e.g., BTC, ETH, XRP, USDT), and the platform will provide you with the computing power and handle all technical issues. Yes, the system will mine for you and pay you daily.
To summarize: you invest cash, the platform provides computing power, and your time pays off.
During periods of high prices and volatility, cloud mining (due to its daily payouts and weak correlation with price fluctuations) attracts more rational investors.
WOA Crypto Mining: Making Cloud Mining Practical
Among the many cloud mining services, WOA Crypto positions itself as a simple, secure, and transparent service—allowing investors to focus on more than just price monitoring.
Key highlights of WOA Crypto
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Green energy and global deployment: Using efficient computing centers powered by renewable energy to increase stability and reduce costs
How to start your WOA Crypto mining journey
Visit the official WOA Crypto website.
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Conclusion: Finding stability amidst volatility
While the price of Bitcoin has fluctuated between $121,000 and $124,000, the winners haven’t been those who perfectly timed the tops and bottoms, but rather those who consistently let the asset perform.
Cloud mining eliminates most of the emotional fluctuations in trading and provides a strategy that is easy to accumulate over the long term, which can continue to accumulate capital even in uncertain times. In times of market volatility, letting assets grow in value is undoubtedly the most resilient investment strategy.
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