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Is 2020 really the year for America’s first Jewish president?

Bernie Sanders/Michael Bloomberg

As Sanders and Bloomberg surge, here are their paths to victory.
WASHINGTON (JTA) — Bernie Sanders and Mike Bloomberg have much in common besides running for the Democratic nomination for president: They’re in their upper 70s, had hardscrabble upbringings and have had contentious relations with the party whose endorsement they now seek.
And both are seeking the chance to make history as the first-ever Jewish presidential nominee.

 

 

Sanders, the Vermont senator, made a strong bid for the Democratic nomination four years and has sustained his avid supporter base into this campaign. Bloomberg, a billionaire media magnate and former mayor of New York City, is mounting his first drive for national office.
Together they represent the best chance ever for a Jewish American to hold the nation’s highest office. At one point this week FiveThirtyEight, the leading forecaster of presidential politics, gave Sanders a 1 in 2 chance of winning the nomination and Bloomberg a slim chance of his own — meaning that a Jewish candidate was seen as more likely than not to be the ultimate nominee. (The chances have declined since, even though Sanders won the New Hampshire primary on Tuesday, February 11.)

The candidates also reflect a tension within the American Jewish community. While most Jewish Americans are Democrats, some are more progressive inheritors of the left-wing activism that characterized early 20th-century Jewish politics. Others, wary of protecting their assets in uncertain times or deeply attached to Israel and the right-wing politics that have prevailed there for a decade, take a more centrist approach. For them, a candidate like Bloomberg is potentially attractive.
The path between now and November is long and winding, and it’s totally possible that neither Sanders nor Bloomberg will ultimately appear on the ballot. But here’s how they could — and why that matters for U.S. Jews.

Sanders’ path to the nomination is clear, if uncertain
The Sanders equation is widely known: Leverage the campaign’s large, committed volunteer base to get out the vote in every primary. Because the elections are no longer winner-takes-all, Sanders can pick up delegates in every primary — and can chip away toward a plurality by the end of the primary season.
He has his eye on California, where voters tend to be progressive. The Golden State looms large because it has the largest delegate take — 416 of the 3,768 delegates who vote in the first round at the convention — and because this year it moved up its primary from June to Super Tuesday, the March 3 date when 16 nominating contests take place.
Walking away from California with a majority of the delegates would deliver momentum to the candidate.
Sanders has visited the state far more than any other candidate, acording to the Sacramento Bee. And at least until Bloomberg entered the Democratic race in November, he also was spending more money there than any other White House hopeful.
In past years, it was generally clear by early May who the candidate would be for both parties. In 2020, however, with a crowded Democratic field and the end of winner-take-all primaries, the same timeline might not hold true. That means Sanders and his supporters are under pressure to execute a high-level ground game in every state going forward.

Bloomberg’s path would be eased by Sanders’ success
Bloomberg, who is funding his own campaign, also is making a play for California. He has spent $13 million on advertising there and campaigned in the state while the other candidates focused on the early states once considered critical to securing the nomination: Iowa, New Hampshire, South Carolina and Nevada.
Bloomberg is likely pleased to see Sanders take the early lead — the Vermont senator and progressive flag-bearer essentially tied in Iowa with former South Bend, Indiana, Mayor Pete Buttigieg before eking out a victory in New Hampshire. A strong Sanders performance in the early nominating contests will help clear the deck of moderates heading into Super Tuesday, leaving the center lane open to Bloomberg.
The former mayor has campaigned in all the Super Tuesday states and built up his staff in them, as well as in the states that vote on the two subsequent Tuesdays, before investing in other states. That’s a clear indicator of how much he is investing in being a major force by mid-March.
The goal, according to people familiar with Bloomberg’s strategy, is to amass enough delegates throughout the primary season that he becomes the presumptive centrist. If that happens, and Sanders maintains his grip on the left, the Democratic Party will have to reckon with the identity issue that mirrors the divide within American Jewry: Do we swing left or carve out a middle lane? Bloomberg is banking on Americans making the second choice — and picking him to face off against incumbent Donald Trump in November.
“The results from New Hampshire show that Democrats must urgently consolidate around a candidate who can beat Donald Trump, and Mike Bloomberg is best positioned to build the broad coalition necessary to win in November,” a Bloomberg campaign spokesman told the Jewish Telegraphic Agency.

What about a contested convention?
According to FiveThirtyEight, there is currently a 1 in 4 chance that no one candidate will win enough delegates through the primary process to guarantee a choice at the Democratic National Convention in Milwaukee in July.
If it comes down to Bloomberg and Sanders, Bloomberg — or more precisely his money — may have the advantage. The 3,979 pledged delegates will be relieved of their pledges after the first round of voting, and they will be joined by 770 or so “superdelegates,” congressional lawmakers and party officials among them.
That’s a crowd that’s ripe for the enticements that Bloomberg has been known to deliver to constituencies that otherwise might be less than charmed by him. Bloomberg is known for his generosity to the campaigns and causes of potential supporters. He also had a record as mayor of using his own money to mute opposition.
As a presidential candidate, Bloomberg has racked up endorsements from African-American lawmakers and mayors — many of them past beneficiaries of his largesse — as a means of blunting his past embrace of discriminatory “stop and frisk” policing. It seems to have worked (and Bloomberg has also apologized for the practice): A Quinnipiac poll shows Bloomberg making headway among African-Americans.

If not now, then …
Let’s say that by June, Elizabeth Warren, the progressive, is duking it out with Pete Buttigieg, the centrist. Thus no Jewish nominee this year.
But the notion that a Jewish nominee was unelectable (one that Bloomberg once cited to explain why he chose not to run in 2008) has nonetheless been all but erased. Who’s waiting in the wings? Democrats adored Rep. Adam Schiff of California for his role leading the impeachment of Trump, and there was talk on social media of a possible Schiff run for the presidency.
And Trump’s campaign manager, Brad Parscale, has said that the Trumps are set to become a Kennedy-like dynasty.
Say what?
Parscale at California’s Republican Party convention last August.
“I think you see that from Don Jr. I think you see that from Ivanka. You see it from Jared. You see it from all,” he said.
That would be Trump’s Jewish daughter, Ivanka Trump, and her Jewish husband, Jared Kushner.

 

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Features

I Speak “Jew”

Morrocan Jewish fish dish

By MARK E. PAULL I grew up in Montreal. Born in 1956. Anglo by birth, sure. But that never quite fit. I don’t speak “Anglo” the way they mean it. My real language is Jew.
And I don’t mean Hebrew or Yiddish. I mean the language of reading the room before you enter it. The code-switching, shame-dodging, laugh-first-so-they-don’t-pounce dialect we pick up early. It’s a language built on side-eyes and timing and ten generations of tension.
I speak French—enough to make myself understood. Enough to charm a dinner table, crack a joke, get someone’s uncle to nod. I’m not fluent, but I’m fast. Doesn’t matter. In Quebec, language isn’t grammar—it’s inheritance. It’s who your grandfather cursed out in a hardware store.
To the Francophones, I’ll never be one of them. My accent betrays me before I say a word. I’m just an Anglo. And not even that, really. Because when the lens tightens, when they look closely, I’m just un Juif. Just a Jew.
And to the Anglos? Same thing. I can wear the suit, speak the Queen’s English, order the wine properly—still a Jew. Even in rooms where I “pass,” I don’t belong. I’m not invited in to be myself. I’m invited in to behave. To be safe. To not say the thing that makes the air stiff.
We’re the only people still called by our religion. No one says “Orthodox” for a Greek. No one says “Vatican” for an Italian. No one calls a Black man “Baptist” before they see his face. But “Jew”? That sticks. That’s the label. Before passport. Before language. Before hello.
I’ve mostly made peace with that. But there’s still this ache—knowing you can live your whole life in a place and never really be from there.
Let me tell you a story.
We had this block party once—the folding-table, paper-plate kind. Kids zipping by on scooters. Music low. Everyone asked to bring something from “your culture.”
The Greek guy brought lemon potatoes and lamb—felt like it came with a side of Byzantine history. The Italians brought two lasagnas—meat and veggie—with basil placed like confetti. The Vietnamese couple brought shrimp rolls that vanished before they hit the table. Even the German guy—built like a fridge—brought bratwurst and a six-pack with gothic lettering.
And then us.
My partner made Moroccan fish. Her grandmother’s recipe. Red with tomatoes, garlic, cumin. Studded with olives and preserved lemon. I brought a bottle of white wine. Dry. Crisp. From the Golan Heights. Not Manischewitz. Not even close.
We laid it out. Someone leaned over: “Moroccan? But I thought you were Jewish.”
We smiled. “We are.”
Then: “So… where’s the brisket? Isn’t Jewish wine supposed to be sweet?”
That’s when it hits you. No matter how long you’ve lived here, how many snowstorms you’ve shoveled through, you’re still explaining yourself. Still translating your presence.
Because they don’t know. They don’t know Jews came from everywhere. That “Jewish” isn’t one dish—it’s a whole map. That we had Jews in Morocco before there was even a France. That some of us grew up on kreplach, some on kefta. That some of our mothers sang in Yiddish, others in Arabic, and some in both—depending on who was knocking.
They don’t know. And worse—they don’t ask.
And that’s the part that gets you. Not the slurs. Not the graffiti. Not even the occasional muttered cliché. It’s the blankness. The shrug. The image they already have of you that’s built out of dreidels and sitcoms.
“Jewish” as nostalgic. As novelty. Something they saw once on a bagel.
Sometimes, when those questions come, I float. One version of me walks out. Another turns into a mouse. One turns into a Frisbee. Just gone. Not mad. Just tired.
Because being a Jew isn’t cute. It’s not nostalgic.
It’s ancient.
Before Montreal.
Before France.
Before Poland. Before Spain.
Before pogroms.
Before ghettos.
Before Hitler.
Before even the word Europe.
We were there.
Go back to the 5th century. 2nd century.
Go back to Jesus—our kid, by the way.
Go further—Babylon. Persia.
Keep going—Temple. Exile. Wandering.
And still, after all that, I’m at a table in Quebec explaining why our fish has cumin in it.
It’s almost funny. If it didn’t wear you down a little.
I’m not looking for pity. This isn’t a complaint.
I’m proud. I know what I carry. I walk into any room with five thousand years behind me. I come from people who kept the lights on through every kind of darkness—and laughed through it, too.
But sometimes, I just wish I didn’t have to explain so much.
All I want is to put down my dish…
…and hear someone say:
“That smells amazing. Tell me the story.”

That’s all.


Mark E. Paull, C.A.C. is a Certified ADHD Coach – IPHM, CMA, IIC&M, CPD Certified
Writer | Lived-Experience Advocate | Type 1 Diabetic since 1967

He has been published in:
The New York Times, The Globe and Mail, Folklife Magazine, Times of Israel, CHADD’s Attention Magazine, The Good Men Project

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Features

At 104, Besse Gurevich last original resident of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence

By MYRON LOVE At 104, Besse Gurevich is the last of the original residents of Shaftesbury Park Retirement Residence. She may also be the oldest member of our Jewish community.
Although her vision and her hearing have diminished considerably, her mind and memory are still intact.  A few weeks back, this writer sat down with her in her suite as she recalled a life filled with highs and lows and her many  contributions to her community, both in Winnipeg and Fort William before that.
The daughter of Jack and Rebecca Avit, her life’s journey began in 1921 in a home on Carlton Street near Ellice Avenue, near her father’s furniture store.  He later operated a cap factory.
When she was ten, the family – she had two brothers and a sister – moved to Manitoba Avenue in the old North End. “My father had put a deposit down on a house on Scotia,” she recalls.  “But my parents didn’t feel that the neighbourhood was Jewish enough.”
Her schooling included Peretz School and, like so many of her generation, St. John’s Tech (as it was known back then.)  “I was actually supposed to be going to Isaac Newton for high school,” she says.  We were living on the wrong side of the tracks for St. John’s.  After one day at Isaac Newton, I found a way to transfer to St. John’s.”
In 1940, 19-year-old Bessie Avit married Jack Gurevich, a young man from Fort William.  The wedding was marred though, by the sudden, untimely passing of her father.
Following the wedding, Besse moved with her new husband to Fort William where Jack Gurevich worked in retail clothing sales.  “We lived in Fort William for 20 years,” she says.  “Our three children (Judy, Richard and Howard) were born there.”
She recalls that there were about 200 Jewish families – including her sister and one of her brothers for some years – in town, during the time she lived there. “We were very well known in the community,” she recalls. “I was involved in everything.”
Her community activism continued after the family’s return to her home town. While Jack went to work as a salesman for Western Glove Works, Besse became an indefatigable community volunteer. At one time or another, she served as vice-president of ORT, Hadassah and National Council of Jewish Women in Winnipeg. She was also a long time B’nai Brith member.
In the business world, the highlight of her career was the building of Linden Woods.  “I became involved in real estate development for a time,” she recalls. “I was hired by Genstar to develop Linden Woods.  The company estimated that it would take about 20 years to complete.  I got it done in two.”
She also taught hair dressing for a while. “I worked with many young Jewish brides,” she says.
Recent years have not been kind to Besse Gurevich. Her beloved husband, Jack, died in 2016 – after almost 65 years of marriage.  Older son, Richard, passed away in Vancouver in 2018 and, most recently –six months ago – younger son, Howard, followed.  She notes that there were 200 mourners at Howard’s funeral.
(Howard Gurevich was in marketing for many years before turning his talents to the art world. In recent years, he was best known for Gurevich Fine Art in the Exchange District and his support of local artists.)
Besse Gurevich celebrated her 100th birthday – which took place at the height of the Covid shutdown – quietly. 
While she used to enjoy reading. she is unable to do so any more. She can still listen to television.
And while she has few family members to visit her any more, she does have a group of friends interesting enough from the local theatre scene.  For many years, she was a close friend of the late Doreen Brownstone, one of the leading figures in theatre in Winnipeg for more than half a century.  Besse became part of the group that would visit Doreen every week and, since Doreen passed on three years ago, the members of the group have continued to visit Besse on a weekly basis.  

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Features

Winnipeg author’s first novel gripping tale of romance, action and intrigue, set in 15th century Spain and Morocco

“The Chronos of Andalucia” author Merom Toledano

By MYRON LOVE “The Chronos of Andalucia”, a novel just released by first-time author Merom Toledano, is a historical romance set in late 15th century Spain and Morocco, filled with passion, action, intrigue, unexpected twists and turns – and, of course, with the requirement of any medieval story – a quest.
The easy-to-read, 190 page book follows the adventures of Catalina, a young woman living by her wits on the streets of Granada in the year 1487, (just after the Christian armies of Ferdinand and Isabella had recaptured all of Spain from the Moors) – while trying to evade the agents of the Inquisition, who had murdered her Jewish mother and Christian father 10 years earlier.  She was left with an insatiable desire to learn about astronomy, along with a mysterious map and an astrolabe (an instrument formerly used to make astronomical measurements) – the importance of which will only be unveiled if she can get to the city of Tangier in Morocco.
Early on, there is a reference to Abraham Zacuto, a prominent Spanish rabbi famed for his knowledge of astronomy and astrology.
The action begins when she has a casual interaction with a former Spanish soldier, Diego.  When the forces of the Inquisition approach, she flees with the soldier – who is also her love interest – and who helps her to escape.  They turn for help to a childhood friend of Catalina’s – Roberta, a nun, who helps them on their perilous  journey to Tangier – a journey that includes being captured by pirates, surviving a shipwreck, being separated for a long period of time and, of course, finding each other again and realizing the success of their joint quest.
In his writing, the author paints vivid word pictures of the different characters and beautifully invokes the colour, sights, sounds and scents of the time and the places. 
What I found truly remarkable about the writing of “The Chronos of Andalucia” is that English is not Merom  Toledano’s first language.  The Israeli-born author – he grew up near Haifa – came to Winnipeg with his young family just eight years ago.
“I have had this book in mind for several years now,” says the satellite engineer whose working career takes him to many different parts of the world. 
He notes that he has always felt a connection to Spain, Spanish music and literature – a reflection of his family’s modern origins in that country.  His great-grandparents, he relates, lived in Toledo – hence the family name, Toledano.  His parents lived in Meknes in Morocco while his father attended university in Tangier before making aliyah.
Toledano just published “The Chronos of Andalucia” in April on Amazon. He reports that the book – which is available here at McNally Robinson – has been selling well –close to 100 copies – with orders coming from a bookstore chain in England, a bookstore in Denmark, and one in Italy.
“I have had between 30 and 40 positive reviews so far,” he reports.
Toledano adds that he envisages “The Chronos of Andalucia” to be the first in a series – a la the writer Danielle Steele.  He is already working on a sequel – which is hinted at the end of “The Chronos” and, he reports, he is establishing his own independent publishing operation.        

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