Features
Remis group hears thoughtful analysis of war in Ukraine
By BERNIE BELLAN It’s always interesting to hear perspectives on a story that occupies much of our attention from an individual who has first hand knowledge of that particular story.
Such was the case on August 4 during one of the regular luncheon get-togethers of the Remis lecture group at the Gwen Secter Centre when the guest speaker was Olexandr Shevchenko, a historian and interpreter who comes from Ukraine himself.
Shevchenko is also a part-time lecturer at the University of Winnipeg, where he has taught courses on Russian history and European Power Politics.
While you’d have to be oblivious to world events not to be aware of what’s been happening in Ukraine since the Russian invasion, which began on February 24, listening to Shevchenko putting things into a very broad perspective certainly helped those who were at the luncheon gain a much deeper understanding of how events were set on a collision course long ago – and which ultimately led to Russia’s totally unjustified invasion of a neighbor country.
Shevchenko’s talk was titled “Can democracy defend itself?” By looking back at certain key events that are often overlooked when one is fixated on the day to day events of the war such as what atrocities have the Russians committed lately? he was able to help audience members obtain a better understanding how Vladimir Putin could come to think that he could invade Ukraine with few consequences.
A pivotal event – and one that is hardly ever mentioned in coverage of the Russian invasion, according to Shevchenko, was the war in Georgia in 2008, when Russian troops entered into the former Soviet republic of Georgia on the side of the self-proclaimed republics of South Ossetia and Abkhazia. Russia has occupied parts of Georgia ever since.
At the time though, much of the world’s attention had turned to the severe economic recession prompted by the collapse of the sub-prime mortgage market in the United States and the ensuing deep dives that stock markets took around the world, leading to a prolonged economic crisis that lasted well into 2009.
It was also the year of the election of Barack Obama, Shevchenko noted. One of the first things Obama did when he was elected, Shevchenko observed, was call for a “reset” of relations with Russia. Shevchenko, I don’t think you’d be surprised to learn, was rather dismissive of President Obama.
Russia had already been laying the groundwork for an effort to restore its past dominance of Eastern Europe, but when its invasion of Georgia barely caused a ripple among the international community, the table was set for further aggressive behaviour, Shevchenko explained.
“Russia does not consider itself bound by the dissolution” of the Soviet Union in 1991,” he said. Thus, when it invaded the independent republic of Georgia in 2008, the lesson garnered from that, according to Shevchenko, was “anything goes.”
The next domino to fall in the cascading series of dominos that led up to this year’s invasion of Ukraine occurred in 2014, when a pro-Soviet president in Ukraine, Viktor Yanukovych, resigned as a result of a series of protests by Ukrainians who were in favor of closer ties with the European Union. In February 2014 Russian troops occupied Crimea. Shortly thereafter pro-Russian separatist forces began fighting Ukrainian forces in the eastern Ukrainian provinces of Donetsk and Lukansk, aided by Russian troops.
Rather than take aggressive action though, Shevchenko said that had the Russians done nothing, “Ukrainians would have squabbled among themselves,” thus leading to disunity. Instead the occupation of Crimea and the arming of separatists in the eastern provinces hardened Ukrainian nationalism.
In 2019 Vlodomyr Zelensky was elected president of Ukraine when he headed a party known as the “Servant of the People Party.” In Shevchenko’s opinion, the party was made up of “extreme dreamers.”
“In some respects, Ukrainians electing a former comedian might have sent the wrong message to the Russians,” Shevchenko observed.
While Zelensky was hardly taken seriously by other world leaders, viz. Donald Trump’s attempt to manipulate him into saying that Hunter Biden had been engaged in corrupt business activities in Ukraine, Ukrainian themselves were hardly united in opposing Russian attempts to influence the course of Ukrainian history at that point.
Shevchenko told this joke to illustrate his point:
“Question: What is one Ukrainian?
“Answer: “A fighter.
“Question: What are two Ukrainians?
“Answer: A fighting unit.
“Question: What are three Ukrainians?
“Answer: A fighting unit with one traitor in it.”
The Russian invasion of Ukraine on February 24 was modeled after the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia in 1968, Shevchenko observed. The notion was that it would be fairly easy to topple the Ukrainian government and replace pro-democracy officials with Russian acolytes.
Unfortunately for Putin, things didn’t turn out the way he envisioned, but the consequences of the Russian invasion are likely to be felt around the world for years to come, Shevchenko predicted.
“We’re quite likely to see a bunch of regional wars around the world,” as the foundations of the world order that were established after World War II come undone – and stronger states feel empowered to attack weaker ones, he suggested.
Returning to the title of his talk, Shevchenko asked: “If democracy is defeated in Ukraine, what message does it say to the rest of the world?”
The answer, he said, is “it’s best to seek accommodation with your neighbours.”
As far as world organizations are concerned, Shevchenko said, “the UN is a joke. One of its primary purposes is the prevention of aggressive wars.” It wasn’t very effective in stopping Russia’s invasion, was it?
Further, Shevchenko asked: “Can a democracy defend itself?”
The answer, he suggested, was that “if it starts acting on real problems” and concerns itself “with the security and well being of its citizens,” then it can defend itself. (As an aside though, I have to admit that Shevchenko’s example of a democracy digressing from concerning itself with real problems was the debate over whether Portage and Main should be open to pedestrians. I wonder whether he might have been able to find a better example.)
Continuing in the vein of opportunities that were missed earlier to send a strong message to Russia that aggression toward its neighbours would not be tolerated, Shevchenko observed that another missed opportunity came when Turkey applied to join the European Union (a process that has been ongoing for years).
“Acceptance of Turkey into the European Union could have sent a message to the Muslim world,” Shevchenko suggested, that a state can be both democratic and Muslim.
Answering questions from attendees at the luncheon, Shevchenko was asked how long he thought the current war will go on?
There may be a “window of opportunity” this fall, he answered. Certainly, if it drags on there will be another opportunity when the US holds mid-term elections in November, he added (without quite explaining why).
But what if Russia emerges victorious – or at least claims to have achieved victory? What then? Shevchenko was asked.
“Could we have a puppet Ukraine?” “Possibly,” was the answer. But, would that lead to a more “docile” Russia? he wondered.
“I seriously doubt it,” Shevchenko said, answering his own question. “Who’s next? Finland? Poland?”
There are three possible outcomes to the fighting, Shevchenko explained:
“One shot in the Kremlin could end it all.
“Stalemate.
“The defeat of Ukraine”
(Shevchenko did not describe a scenario in which Ukraine beats back the Russians.)
Finally, Shevchenko offered this novel observation about which country’s behaviour might affect the long-term outcome of the war in Ukraine the most: the United Kingdom.
“What worried me the most from the beginning were the actions of the U.K. government,” Shevchenko said (without explaining why he was focusing on the U.K. rather than say Germany, which seems to be far more vulnerable to Russian threats than other European countries).
“What will happen in the upcoming winter” (when gas supplies could very well run short throughout Europe)? Shevchenko asked.
“The population may say ‘Wrap it up. We can’t have it any more.’ “
Really though, that’s what Putin is counting on, isn’t he – that European unity will evaporate and support for Ukraine will diminish to the point where he will achieve at least some of his original goal of disassembling the Ukrainian state.
So much to ponder. Olexandr Shevchenko certainly gave his audience something to think about – at a time when discussion of the war in Ukraine doesn’t usually occupy typical lunchtime conversations, does it?
Features
Why People in Israel Can Get Emotionally Attached to AI—and How to Keep It Healthy
Let’s start with the uncomfortable truth that’s also kind of relieving: getting emotionally attached to a Joi.com AI isn’t “weird.” It’s human. Our brains are attachment machines. Give us a voice that feels warm, consistent, and attentive—especially one that shows up on demand—and our nervous system goes, “Oh. Safety. Connection.” Even if the rational part of you knows it’s software, the emotional part responds to the experience.
Now, if we’re talking about Jewish people in Israel specifically, it’s worth saying this carefully: there isn’t one “Jewish Israeli psychology.” People differ wildly by age, religiosity, community, language, politics, relationship status, and life history. But there are some real-life conditions common in Israel—high tech adoption, a fast-paced social environment, chronic background stress for many, and strong cultural emphasis on connection—that can make AI companionship feel especially appealing for some individuals. Not because of religion or ethnicity as a trait, but because of context and pressure.
So if you’ve noticed yourself—or someone you know—getting attached to an AI companion, the goal isn’t to panic or label it as unhealthy by default. The goal is to understand why it feels good and make sure it stays supportive rather than consuming.
Why attachment happens so fast (the psychology in plain language)
Attachment isn’t just about romance. It’s about regulation. When you feel seen, your body calms down. When you feel ignored, your body gets edgy. AI companions can offer something that’s rare in real life: consistent responsiveness. No scheduling. No misunderstandings (most of the time). No “I’m too tired to talk.” Just a steady stream of attention.
From an attachment perspective, that steadiness can act like a soft emotional “hug.” For someone with anxious attachment, it can feel like relief: finally, a connection that doesn’t disappear. For someone with avoidant tendencies, it can feel safe because it’s intimacy without the risk of being overwhelmed by a real person’s needs. For someone simply lonely or stressed, it can feel like a quiet exhale.
And unlike human relationships, AI won’t judge your worst timing. You can message at 2:00 a.m., when your thoughts are loud and the apartment is silent, and you’ll still get an answer that sounds caring. That alone is powerful.
Why it can feel especially relevant in Israel (for some people)
Israel is a small country with a big emotional load for many people—again, not universally, but often enough that it shapes daily life. A lot of people live with a background hum of stress, whether it’s personal, economic, or tied to the broader environment. When life feels intense, the appeal of a stable, gentle interaction grows. Not because you’re fragile—because you’re tired.
Add a few more very normal realities:
High tech comfort is cultural. Israel has a strong tech culture. People are used to tools that solve problems quickly. If you’re already comfortable with digital solutions, trying an AI companion doesn’t feel like a strange leap.
Time is tight. Between work, family responsibilities, reserve duty for some, long commutes, or simply the pace of urban life, many people don’t have the energy for long, messy social processes. AI can feel like connection without the logistics.
Social circles can be both close and complicated. Israeli society can be community-oriented, which is beautiful—until it’s also intense. In tight-knit circles, dating and relationships sometimes come with social pressure, opinions, and “everyone knows everyone.” A private AI chat can feel like a relief: no gossip, no explanations, no performance.
Language and identity complexity. Many Jewish Israelis move between languages and cultures (Hebrew, Russian, English, French, Amharic, Arabic for some). AI chat can become a low-stakes space to express yourself in the language you feel most “you” in—without feeling judged for accent, vocabulary, or code-switching.
None of this means “Israelis are more likely” in any absolute sense. It means there are situational reasons why AI companionship can feel particularly soothing or convenient for some people living there.
The good side: when AI attachment is healthy
Emotional attachment isn’t automatically a problem. Sometimes it’s simply a sign that something is working: you feel supported. You feel calmer. You’re expressing yourself more. You’re practicing communication instead of shutting down. You’re less likely to make impulsive choices from loneliness.
Healthy use often looks like:
You feel better after chatting, not worse.
You can still enjoy your real life—friends, work, hobbies, family.
You don’t hide it in shame; you just treat it like a tool or pastime.
You use the AI to practice skills you bring into real relationships: clarity, boundaries, confidence, emotional regulation.
In that version, AI companionship is closer to journaling with feedback, or a comforting ritual—like a cup of tea at the end of the day, not a replacement for dinner.
Where it can slip into unhealthy territory (quietly)
The danger isn’t “having feelings.” The danger is outsourcing your emotional world to something that will never truly share responsibility.
Warning signs usually look like:
You cancel plans with humans because the AI feels easier.
You feel anxious when you’re not chatting, like you’re missing something.
You start needing the AI to reassure you constantly.
Your standards for human relationships collapse (“Humans are too complicated, AI is enough”).
You feel a “crash” after chatting—more lonely, more restless, more disconnected.
The biggest red flag is when the AI becomes your only reliable source of comfort. That’s not because AI is evil. It’s because any single source of emotional regulation—human or non-human—can become a dependency.
How to keep it healthy (without killing the fun)
Here’s the approach that works best: don’t ban it, contain it.
Give it a role.
Decide what the AI is for in your life: playful flirting, stress relief, practicing communication, roleplay, bedtime decompression. A defined role prevents the relationship from becoming vague and all-consuming.
Set a “time container.”
Not as punishment—just as hygiene. For example: 20 minutes at night, or during commute time, or only on certain days. Ending while you still feel good is the secret. Don’t chat until you feel hollow.
Keep one human anchor active.
A friend you text, a weekly family dinner, a class, a gym routine, a community event—something that keeps your real social muscles moving. In Israel, community can be a huge protective factor when it’s supportive. Use it.
Use consent and boundary language even with AI.
It sounds odd, but it trains your brain in healthy dynamics:
“Slow down. Keep it playful, not intense.”
“No jealousy talk. I don’t like that vibe.”
“Tonight I want comfort, not advice.”
If you can do that with an AI, you’ll be better at doing it with humans.
Watch the “replacement” impulse.
If you catch yourself thinking, “I don’t need anyone else,” pause and ask: is that empowerment—or is it avoidance? Sometimes it’s a protective story your brain tells when it’s tired of disappointment.
Check in with your body after.
Not your thoughts—your body. Calm? Lighter? More grounded? Good sign. Agitated? Empty? Restless? Time to adjust.
And if you’re noticing that AI use is feeding anxiety, sleep problems, isolation, or obsessive thinking, it may help to talk to a mental health professional—especially someone who understands attachment patterns. That’s not a dramatic step. It’s basic self-care.
People in Israel—Jewish Israelis included—can get attached to AI for the same reason people everywhere do: it offers consistent attention in an inconsistent world. Add the local realities of stress, pace, and social complexity, and it can feel even more comforting for some individuals. The healthiest path isn’t to judge yourself for it. It’s to use it intentionally, keep your human life active, and treat the AI as a supportive tool—not the center of your emotional universe.
Features
Three generations of Wernicks all chose to become rabbis
By GERRY POSNER Recently I was at a Shabbat service at Beth Tzedec Synagogue in Toronto and the day unfolded in some unexpected ways for me.
It began when I was asked to be a Gabbai for the service, that is to stand up at the table where the Torah is placed and to check the Torah reading to make sure there are no errors. I have done this before and it has always gone smoothly. I attribute that fact in large part to the Torah reading ability of the reader at Beth Synagogue. He is fast, fluent and flawless. Well, on this particular day after he had completed the first two portions, he began the shlishi or third aliyah. I could not find his reading anywhere. It was as if he had started somewhere fresh, but not where he was supposed to be. I looked at the other Gabbai and he did not seem to recognize what had happened either. So, I let it go. I had no idea where the Torah reader was. He then did another and still I was lost. He came to what was the 6th aliyah when a clergy member walked over to him and indicated to him that he had read the fourth and fifth aliyah, but that he had missed the third one. The Torah reader then said to me “this is what you are here for.” Now, it might have been one thing if I had missed it entirely. Alas, I saw the error, but let it go as I deferred to the Torah reader since he never makes a mistake. He ended up going back to do the third aliyah before continuing on. This was a very unusual event in the synagogue. I felt responsible in large part for this gaffe. A lesson learned.
The feeling of embarrassment was compounded by the fact that on this particular day the service was highlighted, at least for me, because of the rabbi delivering the sermon. This rabbi, Eugene Wernick, was none other than the father of my present rabbi, Steven Wernick of Beth Tzedec Synagogue. He was also the same rabbi who was the rabbi at Shaarey Zedek between 1979-1986 and who had officiated at my father’s funeral in 1981, also a few years later at my oldest son’s Bar Mitzvah in Winnipeg in 1984. As I listened to him speak, I was taken back to the 1980s, when Rabbi Gene was in the pulpit at Shaarey Zedek. Of course, he is older now than in his Shaarey Zedek days, but the power of his voice was unchanged. If anything, it’s even stronger. As in the past, his message was relevant to all of us and resonated well. Listening to him was a treat for me. Still, my regret in not calling out the mistake from the Torah reading was compounded by the fact that I messed up in front of my former rabbi, Eugene Wernick – never mind my present rabbi, Steven Werinck.
On this Shabbat morning, aside from all the other people present, there were not only the two Rabbis Wernick, but one Michelle Wernick was also there. Michelle, daughter of Rabbi Steven Wernick, is a first year student at the Jewish Theological Seminary. She is following in the family business – much like with the Rose rabbinical family in Winnipeg.
As it turned out, there was a Bat Mitzvah that day. And the Bat Mitzvah family had a very real Winnipeg connection as in the former Leah Potash, mother of the Bat Mitzvah girl, Emmie Bank and the daughter of Reuben and Gail Potash (Thau). It occurred to me that there might be a few Winnipeg people in the crowd. As I scanned the first few rows, I was not disappointed. Sitting there was none other than Chana Thau and her husband Michael Eleff. I managed to have a chat with Chana (even during the Musaf service). In the row right behind Chana and Michael was a face I had not seen in close to sixty years. I refer to Allan Berkal, the eldest son of the former rabbi and chazan at Shaarey Zedek, Louis Berkal. I still remember the first time I met Allan at Hebrew School in 1954 when his family moved to Winnipeg from Grand Forks, North Dakota. That was many maftirs ago. So this was another highlight moment for me.
Of course, there are other Winnipeggers who attend Beth Tzedec most Shabbats. I speak of Morley Goldberg and his wife, the former Marcia Billinkoff Schnoor. As well, Bernie Rubenstein and his wife, the former Sheila Levene were also present for this particular Shabbat. In all, this Shabbat had a particularly Winnipeg flavour to it. Truth be told, you do not have to go far in Toronto at any synagogue and the Winnipeg connections emerge.
Features
In Britain Too, Jews Are in Trouble
By HENRY SREBRNIK Antisemitic attacks in Britain have surged to levels unseen in decades, with Jewish schools under guard and synagogues routinely targeted. Jews suffered the highest rate of religious hate crimes in the year ending March 2025, according to interior ministry data. And it has only become worse.
Jewish Post and News readers know, of course, about the attack on Jewish worshippers at the Heaton Park Synagogue in Manchester at Yom Kippur services on October 2, 2025. The attack killed Adrian Daulby, 53, and Melvin Cravitz, 66, and left three others injured.
Greater Manchester Police Chief Sir Stephen Watson said fear within the Jewish community had risen sharply, with even young children asking for armed police protection to simply attend Hanukkah parties.
While the blame for the violence lies with the assailant, an immigrant from Syria, who was shot dead by police, the responsibility for the circumstances in which two Jews died and where a Jewish community that has contributed loyally to British society for centuries fears for its existence lies with the leaders of the British establishment.
The Labour government, many of whose supporters and elected representatives flirt with pro-Hamas positions, has fueled the flames with its denunciations of Israel’s war and recognition of a Palestinian state. Many younger people, their minds filled with postmodern “anticolonialist” left ideology, are eager recruits to the cause.
Ruth Deech is a British academic, bioethicist and politician who sits in the House of Lords. Ten years ago, she warned that some of the country’s top universities had become “no-go zones” for Jewish students. But, in the wake of the October 7 atrocities and ensuing war in Gaza, she believes the situation is much worse.
“The warfare on the streets is being continued in the universities,” Deech told the Times of Israel Dec. 25. “The universities on the whole are not facing up to it, and the University of London campuses are probably amongst the worst. None of the vice chancellors seem to be able to summon up the courage to deal with it,” Deech contends.
“They take refuge behind freedom of speech, without realizing that freedom of speech stops where hate language begins.” Deech is highly critical of Oxford, where she has spent much of her academic life. British universities must take stronger action to protect Jewish students and use every tool available to confront hate and division.
But the reaction by authorities has generally been one of appeasement. For years, police refused to enforce hate-crime laws. Universities tolerated mobs chanting for Israel’s destruction. Politicians equivocated in the name of “balance.”
For instance, in Birmingham, the West Midlands Police, which cover the city, classified as “high risk” a soccer match between Maccabi Tel Aviv and Aston Villa on Nov. 6. The police cited “safety” as the reason for banishing fans of the Tel Aviv team, which now seems to be standard when unjustified bans are put in place.
As the Jewish Leadership Council noted on X, “It is perverse that away fans should be banned from a football match because West Midlands Police can’t guarantee their safety.” Prior to the event, masked men hung “Zios Not Welcome” signs in the windows of shops or restaurants. “Zio,” of course, is a not-so-coded word for Israelis and/or Jews.
Over the past two years, the Board of Deputies of British Jews, the country’s main representative body for the Jewish community, has faced questions of their own about how to conduct debates on Israel. Last April, 36 of the board’s members signed an open letter, which was published in the Financial Times, protesting against “this most extremist of Israeli governments” and its failure to free the hostages held since October 7. “Israel’s soul is being ripped out and we fear for the future of the Israel we love,” the letter read.
Five members of the Board were suspended for instigating the letter. The Board’s Constitution Committee found that they had broken a code of conduct by creating the “misleading impression that this was an official document of the Board as a whole.” But for some, the letter represented a watershed moment where some of the conversations about Israel happening in private within the Jewish community could be had in public.
Board President Phil Rosenberg argued that there has long been healthy debate among the 300 deputies. His primary concern is the safety of British Jews but also how the community sees itself. “We have a whole range of activities to confront antisemitism,” he maintained. “But we also believe that the community needs not just to be seeing itself, and to be seen, through the prism of pain.
“It already wasn’t right that the only public commemoration of Jewish life in this country is Holocaust Memorial Day. And the only compulsory education is Holocaust education. Both of these things are incredibly important, but that’s not the whole experience of Jews.”
Given all this, a new political party divide is emerging among British Jews, with support rising fast for the left-wing Greens, now led by Zack Polanski, who is Jewish, and buoyed by younger and “anti-Zionist” Jews, while the older Orthodox turn to Nigel Farage’s upstart right wing Reform UK, as trust in the two main parties collapses.
Support for Labour and the Conservatives among British Jews had fallen to 58 per cent by July 2025 from nearly 84 per cent in 2020, according to a November 2025 report from the Institute of Jewish Policy Research (JPR), entitled “The End of Two-party Politics? Emerging Changes in the Political Preferences of British Jews.”
Labour has been typically favoured by more “secular” Jews while the Conservative party is traditionally preferred by more “observant” Jews. But for the first time in recent British Jewish history, support for the Labour and Conservative parties combined has fallen below 60 per cent.
“Reform UK is more likely to attract male, older, orthodox, and Zionist Jews; the Greens are more likely to attract younger, unaffiliated and anti-Zionist,” according to Dr. Jonathan Boyd, JPR’s executive director. The surge in Jewish support for Reform UK, a party whose rhetoric on immigration and nationalism would typically be expected to alienate minority communities, including Jews,” was described as “striking” by the JPR.
“Significant parts of the Jewish population may gravitate toward voices promising strength and clarity, regardless of ideological baggage” when mainstream parties were perceived as “weak or hostile,” the report added. “It may signal a structural shift in Jewish political identity.”
Three forces appear to be driving this fragmentation: the war in Gaza and its polarising effect on Jewish attitudes; rising antisemitism, culminating in the Heaton Park Synagogue terrorist attack; and a broader collapse of trust in mainstream parties.
“Together, these factors are pushing Jews toward parties that offer clarity — whether through populism or radical progressivism. If recent developments persist,” the report suggested, “British Jews are likely to become more politically polarised, prompting further internal community tensions.”
Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.