Features
Return to Ukraine: searching out the Rosner family past
Introduction: Not too long ago we were contacted by former CBC Manitoba managing editor Cecil Rosner, who asked us whether we’d be interested in publishing a story about a trip he took in 2012 to visit the area in Ukraine where both his parents were born. Although it’s been 10 years since Cecil visited Ukraine, given the current situation in that country we thought it timely to get a sense of what life was like in Ukraine prior to the Russian invasion.
By CECIL ROSNER ““Oi — look at the way the schlemiel drives.”
We are bouncing along the potholed roads of Western Ukraine, heading from Lviv to my mother’s hometown of Buczacz. Our driver and guide isn’t Jewish, but that doesn’t stop him from endlessly whistling Fiddler on the Roof tunes and inserting Yiddishisms into every second phrase.
“These guys are all ganefs (thieves),” he says of the policemen we pass, as he forms his thumb and forefinger into a pistol and slowly pulls the trigger. Alex doesn’t like the speed traps the highway patrols set up, and he appreciates oncoming drivers signalling him to beware of cops just beyond the next hill. It’s an important issue for our driver, who crisscrosses Ukraine’s roads all year-long, ferrying tourists to distant towns and villages in search of their Jewish ancestors.
For Alex, who holds a history degree and is an expert at tracing genealogical roots, it’s an occupation he never dreamed he would have. But in the chaos of the Soviet Union’s collapse, when jobs were evaporating and everyone was trying to reimagine their lives, it seemed like a useful niche to pursue – especially as foreigners were finally trying to discover exactly what had happened to their relatives during the Second World War.
That’s why I’m here too, along with my wife and a cousin. Both of my parents were born in the region, and both were here when the Nazis occupied the area in 1941. In different improbable and miraculous ways, they both survived the war and emigrated to Canada. But every single other family member was shot, gassed, beaten or starved to death by the Nazis and their collaborators. We came here to see what traces of their lives remained.
It seemed logical to make our first stop the local museum, right across from the old city hall. Buczacz is little more than a village, with about 13,000 people. In the early part of the 19th century, Jews made up two-thirds of the population. While that number ebbed and flowed over the years, Jews were still in the majority when the Nazi occupation began. But that would have been difficult to discern in the museum.
In all the display cases, and in the colourful photo album that the town produces, there is no specific mention of a Jewish population. There is scarcely any reference to the Second World War, except for a notation that the town “was released from German invaders and captured by the Soviet Union.” Wouldn’t a town’s museum want to address what became of the majority of the population? What happened to thousands of farmers, shop owners, tailors, tinsmiths, doctors, lawyers and politicians? Doesn’t the mass roundup and extermination of most people in town even rate a mention?
The only hint of any Jewish presence came in the form of artifacts from the life of Shmuel Agnon, a Jewish writer born in Buczacz who won the Nobel Prize for literature. But the entire fate of the people Agnon wrote about had been erased.
Alex had little luck getting the museum’s employee to throw any light on what the town was like in the immediate pre-war period. She genuinely seemed not to know. But there were a few things I already knew.
My mother, Mina, had been born here in 1913, and her family owned a wholesale distribution company. They carbonated water and stored it in big, forty-litre copper cylinders, shipping them along with ice to shops throughout the area. When she was 25, she married my father, Michael Rosner, who came from nearby Kolomaya. In 1939, they opened a small retail store on the main town square, probably within metres of the present-day museum.
When the war broke out in September 1939, there was a reprieve. The region came under the control of the Soviets, and Jews were under no immediate threat. All that changed when Hitler marched eastward in 1941. My father was conscripted by the retreating Soviets, and my mother was trapped behind Nazi lines for the remainder of the war.
For the next three years, every member of my mother’s family – her parents, five brothers and sisters, aunts and uncles and cousins – were dragged from their hiding places, bludgeoned or shot, or sent off to be executed. They were all dumped into unmarked graves. My parents’ first-born child – my brother – also fell victim, dying at the age of three in 1942.
My mother’s survival defied any normal odds. She fled from one hiding place to another, escaping just in time to avoid capture. She spent 11 months in the attic of a Polish family along with five other Jews. She took an assumed name and boldly convinced the Nazis she was Christian. Finally, after Buczacz was liberated, she re-united with my father and they came to Canada to start anew in 1948.
I had been to Buczacz once before, with my mother, in 1990. We came with a documentary crew to record her first visit back home since the war. It was an emotional trip and a difficult one for both of us. But we learned very little of the actual events that had transpired in the town, or the exact locations where they happened. That’s why, nearly 15 years after my mother’s death, I was returning for a second time.
I convinced Alex that our best strategy on this trip would be to find older people and ask them what they knew about the 30s and 40s. Alex seemed skeptical. For one thing, the war had begun more than 70 years ago, so it was unlikely there would be any useful first-hand witnesses at hand. And there was also the collective amnesia that pertained to inconvenient truths.
After all, a segment of the population had actively collaborated with Hitler. They were instrumental in helping identify and round up the Jews, the Communists, and all the other elements the Nazis wanted to destroy. Some might still be living in Buczacz and surrounding areas. Their children and grandchildren almost certainly are here.
The museum’s employee finally gives us a sliver of hope. There is someone in town we should visit – someone who knows the history and might be able to help us. His name is Mykola.
We drive for a few minutes and stop at Mykola’s house. I am expecting to find an elderly man who may have been a teenager during the war. Instead, we come upon a 40-something man in sweatpants and a Maple Leafs T-shirt. He is clutching a handful of papers and photographs. One of them shows a photo of Buczacz’s surviving Jews standing beside a memorial gravestone in 1944. Out of the original population of 10,000, no more than 100 survived. One of the people in the photo is my mother.
Mykola has taken an interest in wartime history, and now helps visiting tourists locate family remnants. He has a variety of interesting documents, including a map of pre-war street names, and a mid-19th century register of townsfolk. It turns out that he knows about some of the Jewish families that lived in Buczacz during the war – a handful of them have returned over the years, and he has helped them find their old homes and landmarks.
We ask Mykola if he could help solve a puzzle my mother and I couldn’t figure out on our previous trip. Her family had lived on a street called Zeblickevicie, which had changed names several times after the war. From her description, though, we knew it was beside a stream that ran into the Strypa River, a subsidiary of the Dniester.
We pile into the car along with Mykola and he directs us to the location. The stream had been covered over, except at the point where it emptied into the Strypa. Though the original home was no longer there, he shows us the exact location where my mother’s family had lived. I saw the idyllic surroundings, the lush vegetation around the quiet river, and for the first time I had an inkling of the peaceful life my mother experienced before the war changed everything.
While we were all walking along the old Zeblickevicie street, Mykola bumps into a friend and exchanges a few words with him. As we walk on, the friend stops my wife, Harriet, and our cousin Nina and says: “Mina Rosner – I am a Witness.” That is the name of my mother’s book. Alex is impatient. He had rich experience of locals trying to pester visitors, and he was eager to move us all along. But Harriet and Nina persist. It turns out the man on our chance encounter knows all about my mother’s story, and offers to take us on a tour of where she lived, where she went to school, where she hid during the war, and where her family members were killed.
Over the next 24 hours, Alex grudgingly admits he was wrong. Our serendipitous encounter has linked us up with Jura, a 60-year-old retired computer technician, astrologist and local historian. He knows my mother’s exact birthdate, and, it appears, everyone else’s in town. He has a photocopied version of my mother’s book, and he has pieced together her recollections with precise locations of many of the events she describes. If photographic memories actually exist, we figure he has one. He is a visiting tourist’s dream come true, and Alex has to take a back seat while Jura takes us on a remarkable tour of my mother’s life.
The first stop is just around the corner, on a street that used to be called Chechego Maya. I remember it from my mother’s stories, but we could never pinpoint it on our previous trip. Jura shows us the building where my mother’s sister and her husband ran a hardware shop. He knows the address because it’s listed in trade publications of the era. Though my mother’s original house and her parents’ store no longer existed, I finally had an authentic touchstone of some of her family’s life at the time.
Jura takes us to the pre-war building on Kolejowa Street that served as the cheder, the religious school, where Jewish kids studied. We visit the girls’ school and middle school where my mother was a student, and walk into Buczacz’s Sokol theatre, where she watched dramatic performances and movies as a teenager. A group of children is rehearsing a musical concert on stage, and I can imagine my mother sitting in the auditorium with her brothers and sisters and friends.
Just down the road, near an orchard, Jura shows us the garden of a long-ago demolished home where my mother hid during one of the Nazi aktions, or periodic killing sprees. A bunker had been constructed in the cellar, and this helped shield her and other Jews from capture. The Nazis conducted four major aktions during their occupation of Buczacz before declaring the town Judenrein, or completely free of Jews. But the declaration turned out to be false. My mother, along with dozens of others, managed to survive with the aid of courageous gentile families who risked their safety to shelter them.
In the middle of our travels, Jura pulls out a sheet of typewritten names – people who had served as policemen, gendarmes and SS officers during the war. I recognize some of the names. Some of the Nazi war criminals and their collaborators have been brought to justice, but the vast majority remain undetected and untried for their crimes.
We go to the Jewish cemetery, where many of the town’s Jews – including my mother’s parents – were taken to be executed. The place is untended and overgrown, a jumble of brush and junk, with headstones in various states of disrepair. We find my great-grandmother’s grave. It’s significant, because two plots over my mother buried her first-born child, Isaac, in an unmarked plot. I clear away the branches and debris from the group of headstones in the area to get a better view. I bend down and touch the ground where the brother I never met is buried. Exactly 70 years later, someone has come back to this place to remember.
Jura takes me down a path through brambles to a spot where survivors had erected a memorial to the war’s victims. The place is overgrown with trees and bushes now, but he says there was nothing here before the war. The marker no longer survives, and even if it did, it’s unlikely anyone would be able to find it without an expert guide.
Our next stop is Fedor Hill, another killing ground where thousands perished. It’s difficult to see traces of anything here, but Jura once again guides us to a marker commemorating the killing of 450 people during the early days of slaughter in 1941. It had been erected by a survivor’s family well after the war.
A far more prominent memorial on Fedor Hill is dedicated to the UPA, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army, the military wing of a movement that initially collaborated with the Nazis in hopes of winning an independent homeland. In fact, throughout our travels in Western Ukraine, there were numerous new memorials to Ukrainian nationalist fighters in places where it might have been logical to place markers noting the victims of the Nazi era. We saw this on the side of a synagogue in Ivano-Frankivsk, near the Jewish ghetto entrance in Lvov, and many other places. In my father’s hometown of Kolomyia, it was a similar story — no mention of Jews or Nazi victims in the local museum, no remnants of the huge Jewish population, and a patriotic memorial to Ukrainian nationalist figures on the site of a former synagogue. In the re-written history of today, the UPA and its related Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists are presented as groups that fought both Soviets and Nazis; no mention is made of the collaboration in 1941 that led to so much destruction during the war.
Throughout our trip to Ukraine, we were reminded of the upcoming election campaign and the ever-present imagery of Ukrainian nationalism, especially in the Western part of the country. In a land that was exercising its brand of democratic activity, we had to wonder how thoroughly the country had come to grips with its recent history. Many countries are wrestling with related questions, trying to reconcile horrendous events of the past with a way forward. But as in any process or truth and reconciliation, there needs to be an initial recognition of what took place. Erasing and denying the past is rarely the path to building a healthy future.
At the end of our tour in Buczacz, Jura wanted to know the exact date of my mother’s death. He also was interested in our birthdates and any other information he could glean from us. In a country that chooses to forget so much, he was something of an anomaly.
Features
Noah Wyle explains Robby’s controversial behaviour in season two of The Pitt
Noah Wyle believes audiences struggled to accept the changes in Dr. Michael “Robby” Robinavitch during the second season of The Pitt. In a recent interview with Vanity Fair, Wyle explained why viewers reacted strongly to the emergency physician’s increasingly difficult behaviour, arguing that audiences often expect their heroes to maintain an unrealistic standard of “purity”.
(Spoiler warning: for anyone who hasn’t yet watched The Pitt, this article contains minor spoilers.)
In season one of the HBO medical drama, Robby was a dedicated doctor whose composure and clinical instincts made him a reliable member of staff. Season two revealed a more troubled side of the character, with grief and deteriorating mental health affecting his relationships with colleagues.
“An interesting American hypocrisy”
Wyle, who also works as a writer, director and executive producer on the show, sees Robby’s behaviour as part of a character journey rather than a sudden departure from the person audiences admired.
He said that viewers often forgive villains who occasionally do something admirable but tend to judge traditionally heroic characters much more harshly when they make mistakes. Wyle described this as “an interesting American hypocrisy”.
Wyle credited executive producer John Wells for encouraging the team to tell Robby’s story honestly.
Gaming and the success of House
Wyle has suggested a potential five- or six-season trajectory for Robby, with the character currently moving from denial towards recognizing his problems and seeking a way forward. Season two was uncomfortable for viewers, as Robby struggled to acknowledge his condition.
The success of The Pitt, particularly if it lasts for that five- or six-season run, may interest game developers. House, another of the most popular TV medical dramas, inspired two games back in its heyday. In 2008, Exelweiss designed a cellphone game for the show, releasing Spanish and English versions. Two years later, Legacy Interactive released a video game based on the series; players acted as House’s diagnostic team to solve five unusual medical cases.
For now, iGaming companies like Casino Days Ontario are more focused on the immensely popular slots themes, such as ancient civilizations, as well as variations on table classics like poker and blackjack.
The Pitt has been credited with reviving the medical drama, after a successful era of shows that included House (a “prickly” take on the format, in the words of one critic) alongside ER, Grey’s Anatomy, and The Good Doctor. That same critic praised The Pitt for showing that TV medical dramas can be “satisfyingly elongated”, which could inspire developers who specialize in RPGs or other long form games.
Season three could change Robby’s relationships
Wyle offered a glimpse of how the next season might develop Robby’s complicated connection with Dr. Langdon.
Their relationship changed after Langdon disappointed his mentor in the first season. Robby was reluctant to welcome him back in season two, leaving the two characters more separated despite their history.
Robby will return to the hospital after spending a couple of months away, potentially confronting embarrassment about his previous conduct and uncertainty about his abilities.
Features
Beyond Likes and Stories: what communication will look like on the next generation of social networks
Today, genuine interaction with other people has become a real luxury. In the age of digitalisation and remote work, many of us simply do not have enough time for meaningful communication. Nevertheless, everyone needs it. The situation is further complicated by the fact that, as we grow older, we inevitably outgrow our usual social circle. And then a natural question arises: where and how can we meet new people? After all, social networks, which were once used precisely for this purpose, are no longer coping with this task. Anyone who remembers the internet of twenty years ago will agree that social networks are changing before our very eyes.
Why traditional social networks are gradually changing the format of communication
Once you start scrolling through the feed on the once hugely popular Instagram, it is very easy to notice the characteristic changes. In the past, the feed consisted of posts from real friends and acquaintances. Users opened the app to see what was new in the lives of the people they followed. And the social network really fulfilled its main purpose — helping people stay connected with one another. Today, however, the Instagram feed is made up of content selected for us by algorithms, and most of it comes from complete strangers. As a result, Instagram and other social networks are gradually ceasing to be simply platforms for communication and are turning into places for content consumption.
User behaviour has changed as well. A few years ago, many people happily shared photos and discussed controversial topics in the comments. Today, more and more users prefer to share personal things in private messages rather than posting them publicly. Overall, there has been a noticeable decline in activity in public discussions. Much more often, people simply send posts to a friend in direct messages instead of joining open discussions.
At the same time, the need to interact with other people has not disappeared. People are looking for platforms where they can not only consume content but also communicate, share experiences, ask questions, and receive meaningful answers. In recent years, Reddit has become particularly popular among users as a place to discuss a wide variety of topics. People are tired of endless recommendation feeds and viral content. If developers want to retain their audience, they must adapt to users’ changing needs.
Artificial intelligence and personalisation: what the new online communication experience will be like
In the past, AI was mainly used to recommend different types of content, such as music, films, and short videos. Today, however, its capabilities are expanding. More and more platforms are introducing smart assistants that will search for and recommend interesting chat partners to users. First and foremost, this is necessary to retain their audience. At the moment, finding like-minded people often feels like a lottery. It can take a great deal of time to find someone who genuinely shares your interests, values, and outlook on life. Artificial intelligence is capable of significantly shortening this process. While platforms previously focused on retaining users through content alone, more and more of them are now placing their emphasis on interaction between users.
Developers are also actively working to make social networks more comfortable and safer places to communicate without unnecessary “noise”. They are gradually introducing technologies capable of recognising toxic behaviour and spam. In the near future, social networks will also feature AI assistants that will improve the quality of communication. For example, they will suggest topics that interest both chat partners, offer advice on how to start a conversation, and recommend how to end it respectfully. All of this should make meeting new people much easier and more effective. It is expected that technology will take care of routine tasks, leaving users with more time for what truly matters.
Video chat and live communication — the next stage in the development of social platforms
Another noticeable transformation is the gradual move away from text messaging. Many of us have become accustomed to communicating through short messages and emojis. Recently, however, user behaviour has begun to change. People are increasingly choosing other forms of interaction, particularly communication in random chats. With each passing year, it becomes more obvious that text messaging, despite all its advantages, is poorly suited to building genuinely close relationships.
The main problem with text is that it conveys only part of the information. When exchanging messages, we cannot see the other person, leaving us to guess the emotional tone behind every message. This often leads to misunderstandings and even arguments over nothing. After all, even the most harmless message can be interpreted in completely different ways. A pause in communication can also become a reason for unnecessary worry. Or the opposite can happen — we begin to create an image of our chat partner in our minds, attributing qualities to them that they do not actually have. Ultimately, this leads to disappointment when it turns out that our chat partner is not at all the person we imagined.
Overall, text messaging often slows down the process of becoming closer. People can spend months exchanging messages without ever deciding to meet in person. As a result, interest gradually fades, and communication itself becomes formal. That is why videochats with strangers are becoming increasingly popular, allowing people to communicate in real time. This is perhaps the greatest advantage of such platforms, as you can immediately see and hear your chat partner. From the very beginning of the conversation, you can understand whether you feel comfortable with each other and whether it is worth continuing the communication.
Among users, the CooMeet video chat is especially popular. It is a service for communicating with strangers, with a particular focus on dating with the opposite sex. Thanks to its gender filter, men always communicate only with girls. As a result, the chances that a random chat with a stranger will lead to something more are very high. Another important advantage of the platform is the confidence that there is a real chat partner on the other side of the screen. While people on social networks can pretend to be anyone by using someone else’s photos or even videos, that is not possible on CooMeet.chat. All girls are required to verify their identity, which means there are no fake profiles or bots on the platform.
Metaverses, virtual spaces, and new forms of presence
The social networks of the future will go far beyond the familiar format. Developers are already actively working on creating fully fledged virtual spaces and metaverses that will transform the very concept of digital presence. In the coming years, we will be able to interact with one another in an incredibly realistic way, even when separated by great distances. Of course, the full implementation of such ambitious projects is still a long way off. However, it is already clear that the technologies of the future will bring people even closer together, rather than pushing them further apart, as is often happening today.
Features
Brain drain affecting Israel could lead to severe economic difficulties
By BERNIE BELLAN (Oct. 27, 2026) As of the time of writing, the future shape of Israel’s Knesset was clear as mud. I always remember one of the most important lessons I learned as a Political Studies student, which is the structure-function relationship of any country’s political system, in which the structure of a country’s system of government determined how stable that country’s government was likely to be.
Are we lucky to be living in a parliamentary democracy – with a first past the post system of government, where it is not that complicated to cobble together a majority government – even if it means sometimes aligning with rival parties to form that majority?
After watching the spiral into authoritarianism now taking place in the U.S. under their fragmented democratic system where an unscrupulous president can appropriate almost unlimited power – unchecked by the toadies on the Supreme Court or members of Congress, I would say we’re so much luckier to be living within a parliamentary system of government.
But, when it comes to total disarray – no one can beat Israel’s system of government, where it is near impossible to put together a stable government unless – following the pattern of so many other formerly democratic countries, an authoritarian leader manages to assert himself and neutralize so many of that country’s democratic institutions – which is what we have seen happening under Netanyahu’s leadership.
I ask all these questions after having read an article on the Times of Israel website back in August, but whose relevance has become only more prominent as a result of Israel’s continual slide into disarray.
We in the West can pretend that Israel, for all its problems, is still a democracy, and that no matter what may be happening there, its citizens still want to live there.
But, after reading the TOI article, which was titled “Emigration of doctors, engineers, other highly educated Israelis hits record high,” one might be forgiven for thinking that Israel’s best and brightest are hurrying to leave their country.
Here are some figures from that story: A “Tel Aviv University report released earlier this week showed a record-setting trend of emigration from Israel continued in 2025, with nearly 50,000 Israelis leaving the country for the third year in a row.”
The article also noted that “High-earning Israelis working in tech and healthcare are emigrating in sharply rising numbers, almost doubling over five years, a new study by the Israel Tax Authority has found.
“The research by the Israel Tax Authority’s Planning and Economics Division, which examined incomes of Israeli emigrants over the past decade, found the rate at which affluent Israelis left the country increased sharply in 2023 and 2024 to record highs, and was almost double what it was until 2019.”
Although I posited that Israel’s political instability is a major reason for the exodus so so many high-income earners, the authors of the study say that it is not altogether clear what is behind the departure of so many talented Israelis: “The authors of the study stated that it was difficult to determine whether this shift in the makeup of emigrants stemmed from major changes that occurred in society and the labor market following the COVID-19 pandemic, or whether it was a reaction to the political upheaval over the judicial overhaul and security events that started with the October 7 onslaught and war in Gaza that have been shaking Israel since 2023.”
One might well ask whether a significant number of other Israelis would also leave the country, were they in an economic position to do so? After all, for many years, here in Manitoba we saw a large influx of Israelis, almost entirely coming from the middle class, who were drawn to come here by a combination of factors, including the GrowWinnipeg initiative – which made it attractive for young Israeli families to look to Winnipeg as a potential landing point, also the Provincial Nominee Program, which offered immigrants opportunities to find employment in areas where Manitoba was short of particular types of workers.
But, what of those high income Israelis to which the TOI article refers? Anecdotally, we have read and heard accounts of highly educated Israelis moving here (and Myron Love has often profiled some of those individuals), but if 150,000 Israelis have left the country, one wonders where they have all gone?
Here are the favourite destinations for Israelis looking to move somewhere else (in order): the U.S. Canada, United Kingdom, Cyprus, Portugal, Spain, Greece, Malta, Germany, Australia, and New Zealand.
Many of those countries have tightened their immigration rules, however, as the backlash in Western countries against immigrants from poorer countries has also led to an overall decrease in the number of immigrants allowed in from other Western countries, including Israel.
Still, for individuals with particular talents – or with very high incomes, finding a country to which they can move does not present the same problems as it would for people of lesser means.
Let me end this with this cautionary note from the TOI article: “For a country where the top 20% of income earners are paying 92% of all income tax revenue, the change in the mix of Israelis leaving the country represents a significant strategic risk to state revenues and growth in the economy.”
And, with so many countries now seeing Israel as a pariah state, with all the attendant economic consequences that portends, it is hard to be optimistic about Israel’s future.
