Features
The Little Synagogue in Me: How one of the last surviving prairie synagogues found a home at Calgary’s Heritage Park

By IRENA KARSHENBAUM Looking back, I can’t believe it’s been 12 years since The Little Synagogue came to Calgary’s Heritage Park Historical Village, the largest living history museum in Canada. It feels like another life.
I remember lying in bed at night, dreaming about this project, how I was going to put a synagogue in Heritage Park. Everything seemed so far into the future.
Then all the things I was wanting to do, planning to do, needing to do, happened. All the nights, all the emails, all the meetings, all the phone calls, all the begging for money, all the running around are now a blur.
There is a false front, yellow, wooden synagogue with a white veranda at Heritage Park today, one of the last rural synagogues to survive on the prairies and have the distinction — and good fortune! — of being included in the permanent collection of any historic park in Canada. The first, and only one. To date.
The Montefiore Institute, as it was originally known, tells the story of early Canadian prairie settlement and that history includes Jews who fled the raging anti-Semitism of Russia and Romania, to the edge of the earth, to Alberta. They built their colony in 1910 in the Palliser Triangle, blanketing much of southeastern Alberta and southwestern Saskatchewan, where nothing was supposed to grow, and in the bitter cold and in the dry, scorching heat, they broke the land. The Jewish people were living on the Canadian prairies from the very beginning, beside the Danes, Italians, Ukrainians, Volga Germans and many others, the Montefiore Institute tells this story today.
The Montefiore Institute was built in 1916, abandoned by the mid 1920s, and moved to Hanna, about 130 kilometres west, around 1940. In time, it was plastered in green and white siding, the porch was covered to create a much-needed extra bedroom for the family’s numerous children, an addition was built in the back, and the cutout where the Magen David once looked out into the distant horizon disappeared under siding. Its transformation to an unassuming bungalow was complete. Its Jewish history was lost from memory. The family thought they were living in the most luxurious home they had ever lived in, a conversion from an old church.
Two generations later a motley crew of volunteers found the Montefiore Institute and, after discovering that thanks to the dryness of the climate, it was like new, and would be able to withstand a 230 kilometre trek on a truck from Hanna to Calgary.
Two years had passed since I emailed my proposal to Heritage Park, when we drove to Hanna early one June morning, in 2008, and watched a crew of young men remove the building from its foundation. They inserted giant, square wooden beams under the house and “rolled” them. The building ripped off the foundation and slowly slid on to the truck bed. Oh how those workmen’s bodies moved! None of them were big or stocky or bulky – what you’d think they’d have to be for such physically demanding labour. They moved like ballerinas. They were lean, the kind of lean that I have encountered in men who have lived difficult lives. How hard they worked! And when they were done, we gave them pies, bought at a Hanna bakery, as an expression of our gratitude. It felt shameful. They got paid, sure. But it still felt wrong. Like it wasn’t enough.
Hanna was left behind and for five long months there was that farm at Strathmore, 50 kilometres east of Calgary, where the synagogue underwent exterior restoration. The ugly siding was removed, and lovely, raw wood was revealed underneath, covered in nails as numerous as a child’s freckled face. The nails were yanked, the holes were filled and smoothed and the exterior was painted by the restoration crew that drove out to Strathmore and back to Calgary and back out there and back to Calgary, day after day.
Every time I would speak in public about the project, my voice would crack and a tear would betray me. What’s wrong with me? I’d ask. I’m not religious. This isn’t even my history, if you think it in simple terms. My family left Kharkov, the Soviet Union in 1978, travelled through Vienna and stayed in Rome before arriving in Calgary in 1979. Those homesteaders came from Russia and Romania in 1910. If you think of it as our collective Jewish history, then sure, this is my history. Maybe my soul knows something my head does not.
People thank me for loving history. It sounds simple. I’m not simple. This is more than loving history. I love ideas. Projects. A good story. Adventure. I love to create things. Work with people, that’s when you really get to know them. This is about that. It’s about creating beauty in the world, in one small place.
The Little Synagogue races along the highway one late November day in 2008. It has an escort of electrical crews. It slows down, the electrical crews raise the overhead wires and the building slowly passes underneath. Imagine a little yellow synagogue racing down the highway. Very cute. It comes to a stop on the corner of a farm on the outskirts of Calgary because it can’t travel through the city in the middle of the day. It will cause traffic jams. We go home and wait ‘till night. I’m scared that some kook might burn down our precious jewel. The time can’t pass quickly enough, but then it does and we move our kinder, don’t shlof we tell it, in the middle of the night. Television crews chase it. It’s quite the sight. It would make for a great musical. The name is easy, “Little Synagogue, The Musical!” With an exclamation point. Too bad I can’t write lyrics or music or act or carry a tune or tap dance. It might also make a nice Disney cartoon. Barbra Streisand can sing my parts.
The Little Synagogue arrives at Heritage Park at 4:00 o’clock in the morning. The Meshugenah Synagogue Chasers go to Denny’s for breakfast as there are no Heritage Park staff up that early to accept our gift. We warm up, fill our bellies with eggs and toast and return to the park where we are greeted by “Important People”. They graciously accept our gift. The Little Synagogue is driven into the park grounds and placed on its foundation.
Another long winter, the begging for money is endless, the interior is restored, the benches are made, the bimah is built, the mezuzahs are carved to look like they are worm-eaten. Very apropos for a rural synagogue. As all of this is happening, the grand opening celebration is being organized. There is no time to go grocery shopping, there is no time to trap the dust bunnies hopping all over my floors. There is hardly time to work to earn a living to pay my bills. There is no time for anything other than the grand opening, the synagogue, work, the grand opening, the synagogue, and what should I wear? And what shall I say in my speech at the opening?
We’ll get a thousand people at the opening, I tell my board and opening committee. They tell me I’m crazy. 600, 800 max. No, we’ll get 1,000, I argue with them.
The speech gets written and rewritten, over three months. The dress is bought. I’m lent a choker festoon necklace, a vintage looking handbag. I cave and buy a $400 hat. There are people all around working hard, doing this and that, and on the Thursday before the grand opening everything stops. I can hear the silence. I have nothing to do that weekend except show up at the grand opening celebration on Sunday, June 28, 2009. We eat burgers at a park the night before. The air has the sweet smell of flowers, the sun blushes its pretty face on us like from a scene out of Akira Kurosawa’s “Dreams.”
The day of the grand opening arrives. My mother dresses me as if I am a princess, lunch at Heritage Park, and the crowds start coming, and coming, 2,000 people appear, and more. Our most generous donors take turns carrying the Torah, regally crowned by a chuppah and the joyful people follow behind. They sing and clap and have tears in their eyes. Very Important People give speeches. My voice cracks, again, when I give my speech. My soul knows something my head does not.
The greatest joy in life, I think, comes from dreaming. Then doing.
Founding president of The Little Synagogue on the Prairie Project Society, Irena Karshenbaum will give a talk about this special project for the Jewish Heritage Centre of Western Canada on Sunday, May 30, 2021 at 2:00 pm CDT. Click here to register: https://www.jhcwc.org/programs/
Irena Karshenbaum writes in Calgary. She can be reached at irenakarshenbaum.com.
Features
Matthew Lazar doing his part to help keep Israelis safe in a time of war
By MYRON LOVE It is well known – or at least it should be – that while Israel puts a high value of protecting the lives of its citizens, the Jewish state’s Islamic enemies celebrate death. The single most glaring difference between the opposing sides can be seen in the differing approach to building bomb shelters to protect their populations.
Whereas Hamas and Hezbollah have invested untold billions of dollars over the past 20 years in building underground tunnels to protect their fighters while leaving their “civilian” populations exposed to Israeli bombs, not only has Israel built a highly sophisticated anti-missile system but also the leadership has invested heavily in making sure that most Israelis have access to bomb shelters – wherever they are – in war time.
While Israel’s bomb shelter program is comprehensive, there are still gaps – gaps which Dr. Matthew Lazar is doing his bit to help reduce.
The Winnipeg born-and raised pediatrician -who is most likely best known to readers as a former mohel – is the president of Project Life Initiatives – the Canadian branch of Israel-based Operation Lifeshield whose mission is to provide bomb shelters for threatened Israeli communities.
Lazar actually got in on the ground floor – so to speak. It was a cousin of his, Rabbi Shmuel Bowman, Operation Lifeshield’s executive director, who – in 2006 – founded the organization.
“Shmuel was one of a small group of American olim and Israelis who were visiting the Galilee during the second Lebanon war in 2006 and found themselves under rocket attack – along with thousands of others – with no place to go,” recounts Lazar, who has two daughters living in Israel. “They decided to take action. I was one of the people Shmuel approached to become an Operation Lifeshield volunteer.
Since the founding of Lifeshield, Lazar reports, over 1,000 shelters have been deployed in Israel. The number of new shelter orders since October 7, 2023 is 149.
He further notes that while the largest share of Operation Lifeshield’s funding comes from American donors, there has been good support for the organization across Canada as well.
One of the major donors in Winnipeg is the Christian Zionist organization, Christian Friends of Israel (FOI) Canada which, in September, as part of its second annual “Stand With Israel Support” evening – presented Lazar and Operation Lifeshield with a cheque for $30,000 toward construction of a bomb shelter for the Yasmin kindergarten in the Binyamina Regional Council in Northern Israel.
Lazar reports that to date the total number of shelters donated by Friends of Israel Gospel Ministry (globally) is over 100.
Lazar notes that the head office for Project Life Initiatives is – not surprisingly – in Toronto. “We communicate by telephone, text and Zoom,” he says.
He observes that – as he is still a full time pediatrician – he isn’t able to visit Israel nearly as often as he would like to. He manages to go every couple of years and always makes a point of visiting some of Operation Lifeshield’s projects.
(He adds that his wife, Nola, gets to Israel two or three times a year – not only to visit family, but also in her role as president of Mercaz Canada – the Canadian Conservative movement’s Zionist arm.)
“This is something I have been able to do to help safeguard Israelis,” Lazar says of his work for Operation Lifeshield. “This is a wonderful thing we are doing. I am glad to be of help. ”
Features
Patterns of Erasure: Genocide in Nazi Europe and Canada
By LIRON FYNE When we think of the word genocide, our minds often jump to the Holocaust, the mass-scale, systemic government-led murder of six million Jews by Nazi Germany during the Second World War, whose unprecedented scale and methods led to the very term ‘genocide’ being coined. On January 27th, 2026, we will bow our heads for International Holocaust Remembrance Day, the 80th year of remembrance.
Less frequently do we connect genocidal intent to the campaign against Indigenous peoples in Canada; the forced displacement, cultural destruction, and systematic killing that sought to erase Indigenous peoples. The genocide conducted by the Nazis and the genocidal intent of the Canadian government, though each unique in scale, motive, and implementation, share many conceptual similarities. Both were driven by ideologies of racial superiority, executed through governmental precision, and justified by the perpetrators as a moral mission.
At their core rests the concept of dehumanization. In Nazi Germany, Jews were viewed as subhuman, contaminated, and a threat to the ‘Aryan’ race. In Canada, Indigenous peoples were represented as obstacles to ‘progress’ and seen as hurdles to a Christian, Eurocentric nation. These ideas, this dehumanization, turned human beings into problems to be solved. Adolf Hitler called it the ‘Jewish question,’ leading to an official policy in 1942 called the ‘Final Solution to the Jewish Question,’ whereas Canadian officials called it the ‘Indian problem.’ The language is similar, a belief that one group’s existence endangers the destiny of another. The methods of extermination differed in practice and outcome, but the language of intent resembles one another.
The Holocaust’s concentration camps and carefully engineered gas chambers were designed for efficient, industrial-scale killing, resulting in mass murder. The well-organized plan of systematic degradation, deadly riots, brutal camp conditions, and designated killing centres were only a few of the ways the Nazis worked to eliminate the Jews. The Canadian government’s weapons were policy, assimilation and abandonment. Such as the Indian Act, reserves, and residential schools, which were all meant to ‘kill the Indian in the child,’ cutting generations off from their languages, families, and cultures. Thousands of Indigenous children died in residential schools, buried in unmarked graves near schools that called themselves places of learning. Both systems were backed by either religion or ideology; Nazi ideology brought together racist eugenic policies and virulent antisemitism, while Canada’s genocidal intent was supported by Christian Protestantism claiming to save Indigenous souls by erasing their heritage.
The Holocaust was a six-year campaign of complete industrialized extermination, mass murder with a mechanized intent, on a scale that remains historically unique. The Truth and Reconciliation Commission describes Canada’s indigenous genocide as a cultural one that unfolded over centuries through assimilation and the destruction of indigenous languages and identities. The Holocaust ended with the liberation of the camps and a global recognition of the atrocities committed. However, the generational trauma and dehumanization of antisemitism carry on. For Indigenous peoples in Canada, the effects of the genocidal intent continue to this day, visible in displacement, poverty, and intergenerational trauma. While these histories differ in form and timeline, both are rooted in dehumanization and the belief that some lives are worth less than others.
A disturbing similarity lies in the aftermath: silence and denial. The Holocaust forced the world to confront the atrocity with the vow of ‘Never Again,’ which has now been unearthed and reformed as ‘Never Again is Now,’ after the October 7th, 2023, massacre by Hamas. The largest massacre of Jewish people since the Holocaust, and the denial of the atrocities committed on October 7th, highlight the same Holocaust denial we see rising around the world. In Canada, for decades, the genocidal intent was hidden behind narratives of kindness and social progress. Only in recent years, through survivor testimony for the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, and the discovery of unmarked graves, has the truth gained recognition. But acknowledgment without justice risks repeating the same patterns of erasure.
Comparing these atrocities committed is not about comparing pain or scale; it is about understanding the shared systems that enabled them. Both demonstrate how racism, superiority, and dehumanization can be used to justify the destruction of human beings. Remembering is not enough in Canada. True remembrance demands accountability, land restitution, reparations, and education that confronts Canada’s ongoing colonial legacy. When we say ‘Never Again is Now’, we hold collective action to combat antisemitism in all forms. The same applies to Truth & Reconciliation; it must be more than a slogan; we must apply action to Truth & ReconciliACTION.
Liron Fyne is a 12th-grade student at Gray Academy of Jewish Education in Winnipeg. They are currently a Kenneth Leventhal High School Intern at StandWithUs Canada, a non-profit education organization that combats antisemitism.
Features
Will the Iranian Regime Collapse?
By HENRY SREBRNIK When U. S. President Donald Trump restored “maximum sanctions” pressure against Iran a year ago, he was clear about its goals: Deny Iran a nuclear weapon, dismantle its terror proxy network and stop its ballistic missile program.
The government in Tehran has fended off through violence and repression previous large-scale protests but now may limit or hold its fire. After all, Trump has been willing to go where no U.S. president has, including the authorization of a strike to destroy Iran’s nuclear enrichment capacity last year and the recent capture of Nicolas Maduro in Venezuela.
Trump has demonstrated that his government is willing to use military measures to overthrow an enemy regime, and Tehran was, perhaps surprisingly, one of the closest allies of Maduro. The two countries were united by their approach to international sanctions and their ability to survive in American enmity.
Over the past three decades, this combination of political sympathy and anti-American rhetoric developed into a complex web of cooperation involving oil, finance, industry and security.
Since Maduro’s predecessor, Hugo Chavez, came to power in 1999, relations between Tehran and Caracas tightened significantly. During his first visit to Iran in 2001, Chavez declared that he had arrived “to help pave the way for peace, justice, stability, and progress in the 21st century.”
Nearly 300 economic, infrastructure, gas, and oil agreements were signed, worth billions of dollars. At one point, Venezuela even considered selling F-16 fighter jets to Tehran, while Iran supplied Venezuela with advanced Mohajer-6 drones. All this now comes to an end.
Maduro’s removal constitutes a severe blow to the operational base of Tehran in South America. With Maduro gone, “Iran is now in the eye of the storm,” observed Fawaz Gerges, Middle East analyst and professor of international relations at London’s School of Economics and Political Science.
“The big lesson out of the fall of the Venezuelan regime is not Colombia, not Greenland,” he said. “The Iranians know that Iran is the next target. Not only of the Trump administration, but also of the Benjamin Netanyahu government” in Israel.
Israel, which has long perceived Iran as an existential threat, launched 12 days of what it described as pre-emptive strikes on military and nuclear sites in Iran last June, with U.S. war planes attacking three major nuclear facilities.
They now see Iran as being cornered, extremely vulnerable and weak at this moment. “I think they’re piling on the pressure. They’re hoping that they could really, basically bring about regime change in Iran,” Gerges added.
On Jan. 12, Iran’s President Masoud Pezeshkian shifted focus away from Iran’s stuttering economy and suppression of dissent and towards his country’s longstanding geopolitical adversaries, Israel and the United States. Speaking on state broadcaster IRIB, Pezeshkian claimed that “the same people that struck this country” during Israel’s 12-day war last June were now “trying to escalate these unrests with regard to the economic discussion.
“They have trained some people inside and outside the country; they have brought in some terrorists from outside,” he charged, alleging that those responsible had attacked a bazaar in the northern city of Rasht and set mosques on fire.
“My assumption is that the Mossad is active in Tehran behind the scenes,” contended Ahron Bregman, who teaches at King’s College London and has written extensively on Israeli intelligence operations. “Israeli officials are unusually quiet.” There are clear instructions not to talk and “not to be seen to be involved in any way.”
“I’d be very surprised if Israeli agents were not active within Iran right now,” defence analyst Hamze Attar maintained. “They’re going to be doing everything they can to make sure these protests continue and escalate.”
But anything that Israel is up to will of course be covert. This restraint is a calculated approach taken to avoid disrupting a process of regime change that may be driven internally. Intervening would only confirm the regime’s claims that the protesters are “Zionist agents,” a charge that could shift popular anger onto the demonstrators and douse the movement.
“Any visible involvement would give the Iranians an excuse to intensify repression,” explained Danny Citrinowicz, a senior researcher at the Institute for National Security Studies and former head of Iran research in an Israeli military intelligence branch
Reza Pahlavi, the eldest son of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, the last Shah of Iran, who maintains he wants peace with Israel and the United States, suggests Iran faces a historic moment. “In all these years, I’ve never seen an opportunity as we see today in Iran. Iranian people are more than ever committed to bringing an end to this regime,” he stated. “By God, it is about time that Iran gets its opportunity to free itself from a tyrannical regime.”
Iranians have seen the regime and its backers exposed and humiliated by an American administration and Israel, and they are taking advantage of it. But it won’t be easy. This is a religious nomenklatura that will use all means at its disposal to hold on to power. Never underestimate their cruelty and resolve
Henry Srebrnik is a professor of political science at the University of Prince Edward Island.
