Features
The Issue with Anti-Zionism
One narrative that has grown more dominant in the past few months is that which seeks to target, discredit, and harm “Zionists.”
I worry that many Canadians do not actually know what “Zionism” means, nor do they understand its origins, or how its sudden weaponization is concerning to Jews everywhere, and should be concerning to you, too. I write this piece with the hope that it may provide some clarity to those looking to delve more deeply into discussions they are seeing emerge online and in our public discourse on this topic.
This week, I made a post on social media that took exception to a group trying to garner support for the boycotting of “Zionist Restaurants” in Montreal. In my response, I said the following: “Don’t be fooled by what this means: it means don’t buy from Jews. Don’t associate with Jews. Don’t be near Jews. This is antisemitism. This is hate. Call it out for what it is.”
“Remember to ask yourself this”, I said: “Why should my Jewish friends, colleagues, neighbours and fellow Canadians be the subject of targeted attacks because of how some feel about Israel?”
Why do I believe the demand to boycott or target “Zionists”, whether that be businesses or individuals, is problematic? I’ll explain.
Those who suggest anti-Zionism is not antisemitism will point out that Judaism and Zionism are different. They are correct in that one is a religion, and I would argue, a people (or culture for some), and the other is simply a belief that Israel, as a Jewish homeland, should exist. By critiquing Zionism, they say, they are taking issue with the Israeli Government, and not Jews.
Here is the problem with that: the vast majority of Jews identify as Zionists. Again, this just means that they believe in a Jewish State or homeland. Some hold this belief because they see Israel as the ancestral homeland of Jews. For others, it is because they feel as though the treatment of Jews, as destructive as it has been over history, merits a safe place for them to live as a collective.
Whatever the reason one calls themselves a Zionist, the important thing to know is that the view pertains to the existence of the State as a homeland itself, not the way the state conducts its affairs.
Zionism has absolutely nothing to do with a predetermined set of views about what the Israeli Government of the day decides to do on any issue, whether that be about Gaza, or policies related to education, or the environment.
Zionism does not presuppose a singular position on the actions of the government of Israel or of the Jewish people. When the Zionist movement began in fact, there was no Government of Israel.
Some Zionists will support elements of Israeli Government policy, and others, such as the over 500,000 protesting in the streets of Israel itself, will have a different view. At any given moment, Zionists, just like anybody else, will hold a range of views on various topics to do with both Israel and beyond.
So, when one says “boycott Zionists”, presumably on the basis of some objection that they have to Israeli’s military campaign in Gaza, they make an assumption that all Zionists are supportive of those actions being undertaken by the Israeli government. As such, they say, the “Zionists” should be punished through boycotts and public shaming.
The main point here is that one can be a Zionist while at the same time disagree with the way Israel responds to conflict. So why treat all “Zionists” the same?
Therein lies the problem. If one wants to call out people who support the actions of the Israeli government in Gaza, so be it – there is plenty to object to in my view – but don’t use the label of Zionism as the pretext that serves as the foundation of those criticisms. When one does that, they are crossing the line into antisemitism.
If one doesn’t believe Israel has a right to exist, they should say that instead. Do not universally categorize a group of people as being responsible for the actions of individuals or governments; that is what we call “prejudice.” Do not be prejudiced towards Jews by assuming they are all the same, that’s called antisemitism.
To call for the universal boycott and targeting of “Zionists” is really just a call to boycott those that believe Israel has a right to exist, and that, as it were, just so happens to include the overwhelming majority of Jews, too.
Ben Carr is the MP for Winnipeg South Centre
Features
100-year-old Lil Duboff still taking life one day at a time
By MYRON LOVE Last march, Lil Duboff celebrated her 100th birthday in a low key manner.
“I have always been a laid back kind of person,” says the Shaftesbury retirement home resident. “I just celebrated with my family.”
Lil Duboff’s life journey began in Russia in 1925. “I was six months old when we came to Winnipeg,” she says. “Most of my extended family had come before. We were supposed to leave Russia at the same time, but my mother was pregnant with me and my parents waited until after I was born.”
The former Lil Portnoy, the daughter of Hy and Pessie, grew up the youngest of five siblings in a large and loving family in the old north end Jewish community. Upon his arrival in Winnipeg, her father, Hy, joined his father, Jack, and his brothers, Nathan and Percy, in the family business, Perth’s Cleaners, which was established in 1914.
Following the education path of most Jewish Winnipeggers in the period between the wars and into the 1950s, Duboff started her schooling at Peretz School – although she attended William Whyte School for most of her elementary schooling, supplemented by evening classes at Peretz School – followed by Aberdeen School and St. John’s Tech for high school.
The family, she recalls, belonged to the Beth Jacob Synagogue on Selkirk Avenue.
After completing high school, Duboff took a business course and joined the workforce. She first worked at Perth’s, then Stall’s, and lastly, Silpit Industries – which was owned by Harry Silverberg. (Harry Silverberg was one of the wealthier individuals in our community and a community leader who contributed generously to our communal institutions.)
It was while working at Silpit Industries that Lil Portnoy met Nathan Duboff. “Nathan worked in the shipping department,” she recalls. “We dated for three or four years before getting married.”
They wed in 1953 at the Hebrew Sick Hall on Selkirk Avenue. The bride was pregnant soon after and quit work to look after her family. The couple had three children: Chuck, Neil and Cynthia.
The family lived in the Garden City area. While Nathan continued to work for Harry Silverberg for a time – at his Brown and Rutherford lumber business, he later moved to Portage Lumber as sales manager, and then Dominion Lumber, finally retiring as sales manager for McDermot Lumber in 1995.
During those years Lil did what many married Jewish women did and put her time in as a volunteer with different Jewish organizations. She served as president of the Chevra Mishnayes Congregation sisterhood and the ORT chapter to which she belonged. She also volunteered with B’nai B’rith Women and Jewish Child and Family Service.
Her leisure activities included playing mahjong with friends and enjoying – with Nathan – the ballet and the symphony. There were also all the holiday gatherings with the extended family and summers spent at the family cottage in Gimli.
In the mid-1980s, Lil and Nathan sold their Garden City home and moved to a condo on Cambridge in the south end. After Nathan’s sudden passing in 2003, Lil continued living at Cambridge Towers until three years ago when her declining physical health required her to move into assisted living at the Shaftesbury.
While Lil Duboff suffers from many of the complaints of old age, such as limited eyesight and hearing, and other health issues, she retains a clear and positive frame of mind. She appreciates that her children all still live in Winnipeg and visit frequently. She happily reports that she also has five grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.
“It’s different living here (at the Shaftesbury),” she observes. “I don’t see as many people as I used to. But I am accepting my limitations and take life one day at a time. You never know what tomorrow might bring.”
Features
The First Time: A Memoir
By DAVID R. TOPPER Nearly every life has a series of “first times,” no matter how long or short one lives. The first day of school, or the first bicycle – these quickly come to mind. Probably because of the deep and wide reading I’ve been doing for a story I wrote, I recalled another “first” in my life. It came to me with the same chill up my spine as on the day it happened. And that was long ago.
I’m now into my early 80s and this event is from the late 1960s when I was finishing my PhD, which required that I pass a second language test. It was the last essential test, since I was finishing up my dissertation. In the early 1960s, as an undergraduate, I had taken German for the language requirement and naturally I opted for German for the graduate requirement too. Relevant here is the fact that of all the undergraduate courses I took, the only subject for which I had poor grades was – you guessed it? – German, where I got less than As and Bs.
On the day appointed, I walked across campus to the German department and took the test. The task was to translate a page of text. I can’t recall the content or anything about it. But the result was sent to me and – I suppose not surprisingly – I didn’t pass. I was informed that I could make an appointment with a member of the department to go over the test and to get some tutoring to help me prepare for another try.
But where is the “first in my life” that this memoir is all about? As said above, I only recently recalled this “first.” The trigger was a newscast that Yale University professor Timothy Snyder was moving to the University of Toronto because of the recent presidential elections in the USA. This caught my attention because his monumental book, Black Earth, on the Holocaust in the shtetls of Eastern Europe during World War II, was so crucial to that story I wrote. Thus, my subconscious kicked in and that newscast led me back to when I met the tutor.
Frankly, I don’t remember much about that day. Not the time of year, or the weather. Except that I again walked across campus, this time to meet my German tutor. Even so, I only remember three things about the tutor – beyond the fact that it was woman. She was much older than me and she spoke with a thick accent.
We sat at a table, she to my left, and in front of us on the table was my translation sheet covered with corrections in red; the original German text was beside it, to the right. Slowly she went over my translation, pointing out my mistakes. I sat, focusing on what I did wrong and listening to her suggestions for what I should have done – when, for a brief moment, she reached across my sheet to point to a German word in the original text. With her left hand and her bare arm right in front of me – I saw something on the underside of that arm.
At the time, I knew about this. I had read about it. But back in the late 1960s I had never seen it for real – in the flesh. Really. Yes, “in the flesh” isn’t a metaphor. Indeed, I’m getting the same chill now just thinking about it, as I did when I saw it – for the first time.
On the inside of that arm, she had a tattoo – a very simple tattoo – just a five-digit number. Nothing else.
I was so rattled by this that I couldn’t focus on what she was saying anymore. The tattoo blurred out much of everything else for the rest of the day.
Fortunately, this happened near the end of our meeting, and I apparently absorbed enough of her help so that when I did take the test the second time – I passed. And here I am: a retired professor after many years of teaching.
Even today, that first tattoo is still seared in my mind. Oh, and that’s the third thing I’ll always remember about the tutor who helped me pass that key test on the road to my PhD.
Features
Japanese Straightening/Hair Rebonding at SETS on Corydon
Japanese Straightening is a hair straightening process invented in Japan that has swept America.
