Features
“Judenrein” posits what might happen if a right-wing conspiracy in the United States – and a cooperative president, came together
“Judenrein”
By “Harold Benjamin”
Self-published in 2020, but available on Amazon in either e-book or hard copy format.
Reviewed by BERNIE BELLAN
A while back I received an email from someone named “Harold Benjamin” (which, it turned out, was a pseudonym).
In that email Mr. Benjamin told me that he had written a book titled “Judenrein”.
The title immediately grabbed my attention as I knew it referred to the German term coined by the Nazis meaning “Jew free”. Here’s a brief description of the book’s plot, as given on Amazon:
“Zack Gurevitz has had a checkered past. A Yeshiva boy, turned Green Beret, turned junkie, excommunicated by his one-time faith and now the potential savior of people he doesn’t even like.
“As a white supremacist movement stealthily takes the reins of power in America, it is again the Jews who are made out as scapegoats. Stripped of wealth and citizenship, they are made to live in 21st century ghettos that hark back to a sinister and murky past that many had thought would never return.
“But things are about to get much worse. With the revealing of a planned terror attack that will place the blame firmly at Jewish feet and condemn millions to death, Zack is contacted by Jewish leaders in Detroit, begging for his help.
“Reluctantly he agrees and before long he is mired in a conspiracy that will have far reaching consequences for his country, the Jewish population and even his own sanity.
“As the clock ticks down, can Zack find a way to avert a looming disaster? Who is behind the conspiracy? And can he really trust anyone?”
Earlier this year a four-part television series based on a Phillip Roth novel titled “The Plot Against America” was aired on HBO (and can still be seen either on Shaw or MTS TV. That show speculates about what might have happened had the anti-Semite Charles Lindbergh become president of the United State in 1940.
We are living in turbulent times and, although it is hard to say definitively whether anti-Semitism is now as great a concern for Jews more than any other time since the Holocaust, there have been many indicators of late that it should be, although I’m going to add the proviso that I refuse to accept that’s the case in Winnipeg.
I have deliberately avoided stoking the fears of readers of this paper unnecessarily by printing a large number of the stories that we receive via email almost daily which, if we printed them all, would no doubt lead anyone to conclude that Jews are under fierce attack almost everywhere. Yes, in certain areas of North America, especially where Orthodox Jews live in large numbers in specific neighbourhoods, it is becoming increasingly dangerous for Jews, but I would argue that simply isn’t the case here in Winnipeg – much as certain individuals would love to scare us into thinking anti-Semitism is rampant in this city.
Notwithstanding my reluctance to succumb to the notion that Jews everywhere are under attack, when the author of “Judenrein” asked me whether I might like him to send me a copy of his self-published book, I thought to myself: “Why not? It might be worth taking a look.”
I admit I was somewhat hesitant, however, to plunge into the book – not because I was shying away from the subject matter, but simply because we’ve had quite a few self-published books sent our way and, quite frankly, almost all of them should have been edited by a professional editor.
Now, “Judenrein” certainly falls into the category of books that should have been more carefully edited, but when it comes to a riveting plot – well, I just couldn’t stop reading this book. I don’t know anything about Harold Benjamin beyond what he sent me when I asked him to write a brief autobiographical blurb. Here’s what he wrote:
“Here’s a little bio: Harold Benjamin is the pen name of a 50-something Jewish writer who lives in the American midwest (sic. “midwest” should be capitalized). Most of his professional work involves corporate copywriting. He grew up in the suburbs of New York city (sic. “city” should be capitalized.) and was educated on the east coast (sic. “east coast” should be capitalized.) He’s of Latvian, Polish and Lithuanian descent. All four of his grandparents were born outside of the US, three of them in the 19th century.”
As you can see by my use of the term “sic.”, just within the short blurb that Benjamin sent me, his writing could use some careful editing. If you’re a stickler for grammar, capitalization, also, to a certain extent -syntax as well, “Judenrein” can be a little annoying. (Why don’t self-publishing authors send their books to someone to correct those sorts of mistakes I always wonder after I’ve read a book that should have been thoroughly edited.)
Yet, don’t let my somewhat petty criticism on this point deter you in the least from considering buying this book. It’s a spellbinder of the first order.
I should also mention that last year I was introduced to the writing of Daniel Silva at one of the sessions of the book club this paper sponsors jointly with the Rady JCC. I should be somewhat embarrassed to admit that I hadn’t heard of Daniel Silva prior to that particular meeting of the book club but, wow – I’m hooked on his books now. By the way, in case you’re also wondering who Silva is, he’s probably the world’s foremost spy thriller writer right now – having written 19 novels, with an Israeli spy named Gabriel Allon as his recurrent hero.
To return to “Judenrein” – as explained in the blurb I quoted, the story revolves around a plot to put the Jewish population in America into ghettos – and eventually expel them.
It’s not too hard to imagine a right-wing conspiracy of that sort actually being planned these days, given the level of anti-Semitic discourse so prevalent on the internet. What “Judenrein” successfully posits moreover, is how a conspiracy of that insidious sort could be successfully translated into reality.
And that’s where Harold Benjamin has done some masterful research. Within the framework of his plot, there are several ingredients that come together that lead to the gradual erosion of the civil rights of Jews, and the one that is key is the election of a right-wing president who is all too willing to abandon any notion of civil liberties.
Does that sound familiar? Now, I’m not going to turn this into yet another denunciation of Donald Trump, but “Judenrein” comes along at a time when divisions in America have never been starker and where the president is actively promoting those divisions.
Have Jews been targeted by Trump in the same way that he has targeted Mexicans, for instance, and arguably, anyone else who isn’t white? The president in “Judenrein”, who only goes by the initials “P.K.”, has a more clearly delineated contempt for Jews, but it is in his willingness to serve as the dupe of more intelligent right-wingers – all of whom are in the military, by the way, that his interests and the interests of a small group of very determined military men are aligned.
In point of fact, however, of late, it’s been senior members of the military who have admonished Trump for his expressed desire to use the military to quell civilian disturbances. Yet, one wonders the extent to which lower ranking members of the military would actually be in agreement with what Trump wanted to do – a point which becomes important in “Judenrein” in explaining how, under the right circumstances, right wing members of the military might readily join forces with right wing militias in persecuting Jews and other minority groups.
What happens in “Judenrein” – as the blurb from Amazon notes, is that the hero of this book who, though seriously flawed, rises to superspy status in short order – something, I suppose is a prerequisite for most spy novels these days.
Zack Gurevitz starts off as a drug addicted mess trying to get himself off heroin at a methadone clinic. How someone in that particular state can eventually rise to the level of extraordinary superhero really requires a total suspension of belief but, just as Gabriel Allon in Daniel Silva’s spy novels can overcome any obstacle, Zack Gurevitz manages to escape every nasty predicament in which he finds himself – and, believe me, there are enough close encounters that this book could be turned into an ongoing serial the way the Batman TV show of the 60s would leave you hanging on at the end of every episode.
Is it plausible that a recovering drug addict can be beaten viciously in one chapter, then miraculously recover within a few hours only to escape his captors and turn the tables on them – over and over again?
Of course not – but Benjamin knows how to build suspense and adds enough plot twists to keep the reader’s attention riveted.
Along the way he slips in a female FBI agent by the name of Matthews who, although she doesn’t become Zack’s love interest (disappointingly, for me at least. Come on – what’s a good spy thriller worth if it doesn’t have some gratuitous sex in it?), is eventually persuaded that there is a massive conspiracy afoot and that the FBI has become complicit in enabling it to move forward.
Since the author of this book didn’t actually reveal to me what his true background is, you either have to credit him with having done stellar research about various locations in the U.S. northeast, including certain buildings that do actually exist, along with a detailed knowledge of weaponry or, he himself was involved in employment that would have let him be privy to those details, all of which lend an air of authenticity to the storyline.
One final word about “Judenrein”: Although it’s a self-published book and available only on Amazon, there are already a fair number of reviews about this book on Amazon. To be honest, the reviews might be from friends or family of the author because they’re unanimous in heaping praise on this book – yet some of them offer thoughtful observations about how timely this book is at this point in American history.
When I asked Harold Benjamin how one might be able to buy his book he sent me this link: https://www.amazon.com/Judenrein-Dystopian-Thriller-Harold-Benjamin-ebook/dp/B086BRZDPF/ref=sr_1_4?dchild=1&keywords=judenrein&qid=1588353541&sr=8-4
Features
I Speak “Jew”
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
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.
Features
Winnipeg author’s first novel gripping tale of romance, action and intrigue, set in 15th century Spain and Morocco
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.