Features
Two murders of two Jewish Winnipeggers – one in 1913 and one in 1928 Could they have been eerily connected?
By BERNIE BELLAN The story you’re about to read started off in one direction – then, following a phone call I received Tuesday evening, January 25, took a completely different – and frighteningly eerie direction.
My original story was going to be about a new book that is about to be launched titled “The End of Her”. The book’s author, Wayne Hoffman, is someone who first came to my attention, and subsequently the attention of our readers, in 2015 when he sent me a tantalizingly provocative email whose subject was the long-ago murder of his great-grandmother, Sarah Feinstein.
Mrs. Feinstein was only 26 years old at the time of her murder and, although as Wayne Hoffman notes in his book, there have been many theories advanced as to who could possibly have wanted to murder such a young, innocent woman, the case remains a total mystery.
(You can read my story about “The End of Her” elsehwhere on this website.)
Now, the story of how Wayne Hoffman came to write his book is in of itself quite a fascinating one, but that January 25 phone call really sent my head spinning.
The caller, as it turned out, was a woman with a relatively deep voice. She began by saying that it had just been brought to her attention that there is a Jewish newspaper in Winnipeg. Not only had she never heard of The Jewish Post & News, she said, she wondered what any Jewish newspaper would be all about? Would it be religious in content? she asked. When I assured her that this paper is mostly secular in content she seemed more interested in perhaps taking out a subscription.
We were enjoying a lengthy conversation when the caller sprung this one on me – totally out of the blue: Her grandfather, whose name was Robert Cohen, she told me, had been murdered in Winnipeg in 1928.
“Really?” I asked. “That’s an amazing coincidence,” I said. I explained that I was going to be publishing a story about a new book whose subject was also a long-ago murder of a Jewish Winnipegger.
“I actually have a copy of his obituary,” the caller continued. “But it’s in Yiddish – and I can’t read it.”
She wondered in which newspaper it might have appeared. I said that the main Yiddish language circulation newspaper in Winnipeg at that time was something called Der Yiddishe Vort. I told the caller that I was going to try and see whether there was anything I could find out about her grandfather’s murder and that I would get back to her.
The next day I contacted Stan Carbone, curator of the Jewish Heritage Centre, and asked him whether he or Andrew Morrison, the Centre’s archivist, could help me find the obituary of Robert Cohen from 1928.
Andrew was quick to respond, writing me that when he did a search he was able to come up with one reference to a Robert Cohen in a February 27, 1928 edition of the Israelite Press (which was called Der Yiddishe Vort in Yiddish.)
Andrew sent me the link to the story, which I was able to access on the Jewish Heritage Centre website. What I found was a pdf of the front page from that February 1928 issue which had a story about someone named “Ruven Cohen”, not Robert Cohen. (I can read Yiddish somewhat but my understanding is quite limited.)
But, it was a front page story in that pdf – not an obituary. I realized immediately that the story was about Cohen’s murder.
Next, I contacted Rochelle Zucker, host of the Jewish Radio Hour, and asked her whether she might be able to translate the story for me. Rochelle obliged me that same evening.
Here is the shocking translation of that story , as provided by Rochelle Zucker:
Feb. 17, 1928 Israelite Press
Young Jewish Man from Winnipeg Mysteriously Murdered
R. Cohen murdered in the area of Shell Lake Sask.
Shelbrook Sask, – From the coroner’s inquest of the mysterious death of Ruven Cohen, a cattle merchant from Winnipeg it was found that the $1190 that he had with him when he was leaving the area remained in his pocket. Therefore, the motive for the murder could not have been robbery. The tragic death of R. Cohen, a young man from Winnipeg, made a deep impression here in the city. His body is expected to arrive tomorrow.
According to the information that has been received to date, Mr. Cohen, on his buying trip, had found merchandise in the area and had telegraphed to Winnipeg for money. He got the money and according to reports from the town of Kenwood in that area, he deposited $2000 in the bank. Monday, he took out $1200 and took it with him to pay the farmers for the animals that he bought.
He borrowed a horse from Alfred Schwartz, a Jewish farmer from the area, and rode on horseback in the area. Tuesday, the horse came back home with Cohen’s dead body on it. His hands and feet were tied to the saddle.
Mr. Schwartz and Harry Adelman, a merchant from Shell Lake, traveled immediately to Shelbrook, 40 miles from there and notified the police who immediately started an investigation.
The deceased left behind a widow and 4 children.
Wow! I thought – Mr. Cohen was murdered, but apparently he was not robbed – even though he was carrying a huge amount of cash on his person! And he was in Saskatchewan buying cattle! Sarah Feinstein’s husband, David, was also a cattle buyer who was in Canora, Saskatchewan at the time of her death.
How similar though was Ruven Cohen’s murder to Sarah Feinstein’s I asked myself. Here were two Jewish Winnipeggers, both murdered in the early part of the 20th century, yet with no apparent motive for either one’s murder.
Yet, there was much more to the story, as I was to find out. The next day I contacted the woman who had called me Tuesday evening to tell her what I had found out, including that her “grandfather” was murdered in Saskatchewan, not Winnipeg. But then I was in for another surprise when the woman with whom I was talking told me that she was 19 years old.
“Nineteen?” I said. “But you sound so much older.” After I got over how young this woman was it dawned on me that something else didn’t make sense.
Robert or Ruven Cohen – as he was referred to in the Israelite Press, couldn’t have been her grandfather. She’s much too young to have had a grandfather who was murdered as long ago as 1928. “He had to be your great-grandfather,” I said to her.
“I guess,” she answered. “I hadn’t really thought about it much.” I told her that I was so caught up in this story now that I was determined to try and find out whether there was anything else that I could find out about Mr. Cohen’s murder.
Subsequently, I renewed my subscription to something called newspaperarchives.com, which is a fabulous source for investigative reporters. I had actually taken out a subscription to that service a year and a half ago when I was pursuing the mystery of why someone named Myer Geller had left $725,000 to the “Sharon Home” after he died – without offering any explanation.
It was after searching newspaperarchives.com that I came across a story that was every bit as tantalizing as that initial story from the Israelite Press.
Here is that story, from the February 15, 1928 issue of a newspaper called the Shelbrook Chronicle:
R. Cohen of Winnipeg tied hand and foot to saddle
Horse returns home with dead body
Grim tragedy stalked through the little hamlet of Shell Lake on Tuesday morning when the dead body of Robert Cohen, cattle buyer of Winnipeg, was found tied to the saddle of the horse he was riding. The horse, which Robert Cohen had borrowed from Perry Turrell on Sunday afternoon to go to Kenwood, returned early Tuesday morning to the farmstead of his owner dragging his dead body, and when Mr. Turrell found the body the hands were securely and apparently expertly tied together and then tied to the stirrup of the saddle. The feet were likewise securely tied and the body apparently thrown over the saddle and the feet and hands tied to the same stirrup by the same rope passed underneath the body of the horse. The conjecture is that when the horse was started off the saddle turned under the horse and the body was then thrown under the horse and dragged. The head was severely bruised and lacerated.
It is alleged that a sum of money was sent to Cohen through the bank at Kenwood by his Winnipeg partner and the purpose of his trip to Kenwood was to draw out some of the money for the purpose of buying cattle in the country about Shell Lake.
He is alleged to have withdrawn $1300, distributed about $100 in Kenwood and started for Shell Lake with about $1200. He borrowed the horse – a rather spirited one from Perry Turrell on Sunday afternoon and rather late in the afternoon left for Kenwood. Monday he spent in Kenwood. When interviewed by long distance the pioneer cattle buyers of Kenwood said that Robert Cohen was a stranger to them until his visit of this week.
On Tuesday morning Turrell rose early, noticed that the yard about his buildings was marked as if by an object dragged over it. On examination he found blood stains and then noticed the horse in the yard riderless.
On going over to investigate in the half light of the early morning the horse took fright and ran to the field dragging a dark object. Terrell approach the frightened animal again and this time found that the heavy object was the dead body of Robert Cohen who had on Sunday afternoon borrowed his horse. Thinking life might not be extinct he cut the cinch of the saddle and also the rope which bound the body to the saddle. He then discovered that the man was dead and left the body where it was and immediately sent alarm to several of his neighbours…
In the meantime Turrell and some of his neighbours followed the blood trail out of the yard east on the roadway and across some vacant land for a distance of a mile. An empty pocketbook was found on the snow in this vacant land, presumably that of the dead man, for when the Constable and coroner later examined Cohen there was no money on his person.
Cohen is a large man, apparently about 35 years of age. He has a wife and family in Winnipeg, the wife at present in hospital in that city. His wife has a sister and brother-in-law, residents of Shelbrook, the brother-in-law a blacksmith also named Cohen
There are a number of theories as to how the man may have met his death. The most commonly held is that his assailant, with the intent of robbery, knocked the man insensible, took his money and then tied him to the saddle.
Yet, there is one gaping hole in that Shelbrook Chronicle story. Why on earth would a robber have gone to the trouble of tying Mr. Cohen’s body to his horse after he murdered him? What possible motive could there have been for such a savage and what must have been fairly time consuming task if the motive were simply to rob the poor man? And, why were the two stories – the one in the Israelite Press and the other in the Shelbrook Chronicle so contradictory? Never mind that the name of the person who gave Mr. Cohen a horse was completely different in both stories, the question of whether he was robbed or not is also180 degrees different in both stories.
It was when I came across one final story about Mr. Cohen’s murder, however, in an April 7, 1930 issue of the Winnipeg Free Press that the robbery motive seems to have been thoroughly disproven. Here is an excerpt from that story:
Government offers $1000 reward for slayer of Cohen Winnipeg cattle buyer
Cohen was a likeable man who paid good prices for his cattle and was thought well of in the district where he met his death. Robbery apparently was not the motive for his killing for his money was found in his pockets. (Editor’s note: emphasis mine.) He had been killed before he was roped to the saddle of a horse. A blow at the base of his skull was the cause of death.
So, there we have it. Despite the Shelbrook Chronicle’s claiming that Mr. Cohen had been robbed of $1300, both the Israelite Press’s and the Free Press’s story say the exact opposite: that no money was taken from him. Whether or not he was robbed, the manner in which he was killed and tied to his horse certainly would suggest that the motive for his murder was far more insidious than simply robbing the poor man.
And, what does this have to do with the murder of Sarah Feinstein? Think about it: Two murders of Jews – who both have strong ties to the cattle buying business.
This is where another story written by Wayne Hoffman enters into the picture. In January 2019 we published a story by Wayne about his great-grandfather David, which was titled “My Great-Grandfather, the Jewish Cowboy”.
In that story Wayne goes into great detail about his great-grandfather’s time spent in Canora, Saskatchewan, where he and his brothers had a thriving business, including before and after Sarah Feinstein’s murder. The story is quite vivid in how it describes what an outstanding cowboy David Feinstein was, but when you read the following two paragraphs from that story, just stop to think how much more sense it now makes to think that Sarah Feinstein’s murder was a hit – exacted by some very tough competitors of David Feinstein:
“David’s stay in Canora coincided with Canadian, and later American, Prohibition. According to a few of my cousins, some of the Feinstein brothers–possibly including my great-grandfather–were probably involved in bootlegging. There was more than just horses in those barns, one suggested; perhaps the family’s connection to organized crime had something to do with the murder? It did explain one odd thing I’d found in my research: While the brothers were dealing cattle in Saskatchewan, according to a business directory, they were also officers of a short-lived company in Winnipeg called Manitoba Vinegar Manufacturing.
“The notion that the brothers might have been involved in unsavory endeavors was bolstered by other stories I learned, about how they were serious gamblers, and tax cheats; two of my great-grandfather’s brothers were later fined in what the Tribune called ‘Canada’s biggest tax evasion case.’”
Could both Sarah Feinstein’s and Ruven Cohen’s murders have been part of the same pattern of “sending a message”, which was all too common among gangsters of that era?
You be the judge.
Features
“The Desert Doesn’t Forget” – a short story
By H. C. Piloski
Foreword
This story is loosely based on a true event shared between father and son. The exact year has blurred with time — somewhere in the early to mid1960s — but the Las Vegas my father described was unmistakably the Las Vegas of that era: hot, bright, and dangerous in ways polite men didn’t discuss.
Many years after the incident, my father introduced me to one of the businessmen involved. As we approached him, my father leaned in and whispered that I was not to mention Las Vegas — not to ask, not to hint, not even to let the word cross my mind. The warning was quiet, but firm, and it told me more than any story could.
The details here have been fictionalized, but the core incident — a trip abruptly cut short after a threatening encounter — comes from those private recollections. Some memories fade, others distort, but certain moments remain sharp as desert glass. This is one of them.
Las Vegas, 1965
The desert air hit Harold Bernstein like a blast furnace the moment he stepped off the plane — not just heat, but a smell, too. A dry, mineral sting carrying dust, sun cooked metal, and the faint tang of jet fuel settling over the tarmac.
Winnipeg men weren’t built for this. They were built for honest cold, for wind that cut straight and didn’t pretend to be anything else.
Harold paused at the top of the stairs, blinking against the glare. Miriam had tucked a small prayer book into his suitcase “just in case.” He almost smiled. There was no “case” for this — not the kind Miriam meant, anyway.
He and his business partner, Leonard “Lenny” Krawitz, ran Bernstein & Krawitz Apparel Distributors — a respectable prairie outfit, steady as a metronome. They’d been raised in the North End — synagogue basements, rye bread, and quiet rules — but now lived in Tuxedo, where the houses were larger, the streets quieter, and success felt like something you had to defend.
Harold had known Solly Markowitz since they were boys in the North End — same streets, same synagogue basement — but Solly had always moved faster, talked faster, lived faster. Too fast.
Rumors drifted back over the years like smoke: Vegas. Casinos. “Connections.” And the darkest whisper of all — that Solly had been with Benjamin “Bugsy” Siegel the night Siegel was shot to death in his Los Angeles home in 1947.
Siegel, one of the architects of modern Las Vegas, had built his empire on danger. Siegel’s murder was never officially solved. Men tied to Siegel didn’t retire. They drifted into darker corners.
You don’t play around with the mob.
Still, Solly called every few years. Usually around the High Holidays. Usually to ask if anyone remembered his parents.
This time, he had a business proposition.
“A warehouse,” Solly said. “Distribution. Vegas is booming. You boys could expand. And listen — you’ll be dealing with our people. Markowitz runs things on this end. Good man. Efficient. You’ll be safe.”
Harold didn’t trust men who promised safety.
But Lenny was curious. And Harold had been partners with him long enough to know that curiosity was a tide you didn’t fight. So they booked two tickets, packed their best suits, and flew into the desert.
The Strip
The taxi was a 1965 Dodge Coronet, the kind every Vegas cab company seemed to buy in bulk — boxy, dependable, sun bleached around the edges. Its vinyl seats were hot enough to sting through Harold’s trousers, carrying the ingrained smell of desert dust, gasoline, and a hundred previous fares who’d sweated their way down the Strip.
The driver wore a shortsleeved white shirt and a narrow black tie, loosened past respectability. A pack of Luckies sat tucked above the visor. He didn’t talk. Vegas drivers rarely did. They’d seen too much, and they knew silence was sometimes the safest tip a man could give.
Neon signs flickered to life in the early evening glare — reds, blues, golds shimmering like they were trying to outshine the sun itself. Billboards shouted from every corner:
FRANK SINATRA — LIVE AT THE SANDS; SAMMY DAVIS JR. — TONIGHT ONLY; DEAN MARTIN — MIDNIGHT SHOW; DON RICKLES — ONE NIGHT ONLY — CAESAR’S PALACE
Harold watched the lights smear past the window. Vegas looked like a city built by men who didn’t believe in consequences — men who thought the world could be rewritten in neon and smoke.
At a stoplight, Harold noticed a man in a dark suit standing outside the Desert Inn. Ninety degrees even after sundown, yet the man didn’t sweat. He stared at their cab with the flat, patient look of someone waiting for a decision already made.
Harold looked away.
Their hotel was one of the older ones — brass fixtures dulled by fingerprints, red carpets worn thin, cigarette smoke curling under chandeliers. The casino floor hummed with slot machines, dice clattering, and the low murmur of gamblers who had already lost more than they could afford.
Harold felt the city watching him.
They checked in, rode the elevator up, and began unpacking. Lenny talked about expansion, about opportunity. Harold listened, nerves tight.
Then came the knock.
The Knock
A heavy, deliberate thud — the kind that didn’t wait for permission.
Lenny froze. Harold felt his pulse climb into his throat.
Lenny opened the door.
Two men stood there — tall, broad, wearing dark suits that didn’t belong in the Nevada heat. Their faces were blank, carved from something that didn’t melt. One shifted slightly, revealing the unmistakable outline of a holstered pistol.
“You’re Bernstein and Krawitz,” the first man said. His voice was calm, almost bored — the tone of someone who had delivered this message before.
Harold nodded before he realized he’d done it.
“Mr. Markowitz appreciates your interest,” the second man said. “But he doesn’t want you involved. Not now. Not ever.”
Lenny swallowed. “We just got here—”
The first man stepped forward, jacket pulling back just enough to show steel. “If you stay,” he said, “the desert will take you. And the desert doesn’t give anything back.”
They turned and walked away without waiting for a response.
Lenny closed the door slowly.
“Harold,” he whispered, “we’re leaving.”
Harold was already zipping his suitcase.
The Retreat
They moved through the casino like ghosts. The noise felt distant, muffled, as if the city itself were holding its breath. Harold avoided eye contact with everyone — dealers, tourists, men in suits who always seemed to be standing just far enough away to pretend they weren’t watching.
At the front desk, Harold slid their room keys across the counter. The clerk raised an eyebrow.
“Checking out already, sir? You just arrived.”
“Change of plans,” Harold said. His voice sounded like it belonged to someone else.
Outside, a row of gleaming Cadillacs and Lincolns lined the valet area, their long bodies catching the neon glow like blades. The desert air smelled different now — harsher, metallic, as if the heat itself were warning them. The Strip looked less like a playground, more like a trap.
At the Western Airlines counter, Harold’s hands shook so badly he dropped his wallet. They managed to get seats on a late flight to Los Angeles, with a connection north to Winnipeg. Luck, or something like it, was still on their side.
On the jet, Lenny stared straight ahead, silent. Harold didn’t speak either.
When the aircraft began its run, the engines didn’t just roar — they howled, a rising metallic fury that made the cabin tremble. Harold gripped the armrests as the desert dropped away beneath them, Las Vegas shrinking into a glittering lie the desert never bothers to hide.
Only when they were safely above the clouds did Lenny finally whisper, “What do you think that was about?”
Harold didn’t answer. He didn’t have to.
They both knew.
Home Again
Back in Winnipeg, winter arrived early. Harold welcomed it. Snow didn’t lie. Cold didn’t threaten. The prairie wind didn’t bury men in unmarked graves.
Their wives were waiting at the airport, bundled in coats, cheeks pink from the cold.
“You’re home early,” Miriam said, frowning.
“Business fell through,” Harold said. “Whole thing was a waste.”
Esther looked from her husband to Harold, suspicious. “Barely two days?”
“Solly wasn’t organized,” Lenny said quickly. “Nothing to see.”
Miriam touched Harold’s arm. “You look pale.”
“Heat,” Harold said. “Didn’t agree with me.”
It was the closest he had ever come to lying to her.
That night, Miriam asked again. “Something happened.”
Harold kissed her forehead. “Nothing we need to talk about.”
She didn’t press. Tuxedo wives knew when a door was meant to stay closed.
A week later, Solly called.
“Boys! You never showed! Markowitz said you headed home early. Shame — I had everything lined up. Next time, we’ll make sure things are clearer.”
Harold hung up without answering.
Lenny unplugged the phone.
They never spoke of the trip again.
Not to their wives. Not to their families. Not to the men at shul or the ones they played cards with on Thursday nights.
Some stories were too heavy to carry into daylight.
Years Later
Decades passed. Their children grew. Their hair thinned. Their business went to younger hands.
Sometimes, late at night, Harold would wake in the middle of the dark, heart pounding, hearing that knock again — heavy, deliberate, final.
And he would think of Solly. Of Vegas. Of the desert.
How it didn’t forget. How it didn’t forgive. How close he and Lenny had come to disappearing into it.
Features
Turkey’s Rising Power Worries Israel
By HENRY SREBRNIK It has long shared intelligence with Iran, and it remains the only NATO country to have refrained from sanctioning Russia after its 2022 invasion of Ukraine. It is, along with Qatar, the main international sponsor of the Muslim Brotherhood, including its Palestinian branch, Hamas. Its poor human rights record consistently stir unease among NATO allies.
This is President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s Turkey. He wants his country to become the preeminent power in the Middle East. If Iran emerges from the current war with Israel and the United States weakened, whether politically, economically, or militarily, Turkey’s relative influence in the broader region will increase. Ankara has already consolidated significant influence in Syria and Azerbaijan, and it continues to pursue strategic connectivity projects across the South Caucasus.
Since Erdogan and his Justice and Development Party (AKP) came to power in 2003, relations have steadily deteriorated. The Hamas victory in a legislative election in Gaza in 2005 felt in Ankara like a personal win for Erdogan, who had advised Hamas on its electoral strategy.
Three years later came the Mavi Marmara incident. A Turkish ship chartered by the Humanitarian Relief Foundation (IHH) attempted to break Egypt and Israel’s blockade of Gaza. The vessel was boarded by Israeli commandos, resulting in nine deaths. Erdogan accused Israel of “state terrorism” and appealed to the “international community” in a speech to the Turkish parliament. Things kept going downhill and are now worse than ever.
Turkish Foreign Minister Hakan Fidan recently remarked that “the Israeli authorities are a burden that humanity can no longer bear.” Fidan’s words came in a TV interview July 2 following Israel’s recognition of the 1915 Armenian genocide: “Israel is not just Turkey’s problem, nor is it just the issue of our president, he said. “But everyone knows it, feels it, whispers it in hidden corners, and occasionally speaks openly. This is what we must call it.” True, he stepped back from those remarks in a later interview, contending that Turkey and Israel aren’t destined for conflict. Was this second comment perhaps made at Donald Trump’s urging?
After Hamas’s October 7, 2023, attack on Israel, Erdogan emerged as one of Israel’s most outspoken international critics, accusing Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s government of committing grave violations during the Gaza conflict and intensifying Ankara’s diplomatic support for the Palestinian cause. Israeli officials have interpreted this rhetoric as evidence that Turkey increasingly views itself as a political counterweight to Israel across the region.
Already in December 2023, Erdogan had compared Netanyahu to Adolf Hitler, and Israel’s actions in the Gaza Strip to those of the Nazis. In March 2024, he referred to Netanyahu and his government as “modern-day Nazis” and called for bringing these “murderers” to justice under international law.
He subsequently accused Netanyahu of committing “genocide” in Gaza, claimed that his actions “would make Hitler jealous,” and even described the situation in Gaza as “worse than Nazi camps,” while portraying the West as standing aside and enabling the continuation of the “brutality.” In a speech posted on X on March 30 this year, Erdogan called on “Allah” to “damn Zionist Israel.”
The narrative accusing Israel has become a structural component of Turkey’s domestic political discourse. What is new is not the use of extreme imagery and Holocaust terminology, but the role they play. Unlike in the past, the rhetoric is no longer merely an expression of political anger or protest; it has become a component of Turkish policy, intended to lay a normative foundation through which Ankara seeks to deny Israel the moral legitimacy of its actions.
Turkey portrays Israel not as a state confronting a grave security threat from a murderous terrorist organization but as an entity that has crossed the bounds of humanity, committing crimes it equates with those perpetrated by the Nazis. This framing intentionally downplays the severity of Hamas’s actions and prepares the ground for collective action against Israel, including exceptional punitive measures against it. At the same time, it depicts any Western hesitation or lack of restraint regarding Israel as a moral abandonment of Gaza’s residents, expanding responsibility and blame to the international community beyond Israel itself.
On November 7, 2025, the Istanbul Chief Public Prosecutor’s Office announced the issuance of arrest warrants against 37 Israeli figures, including Netanyahu and other senior officials, on charges of genocide and crimes against humanity. Although these domestic warrants lack practical enforcement, their significance lies in the ongoing legal threat they create. They limit the movement of senior Israeli officials, discourage other countries and institutions from engaging with Israel, and enhance the criminal framing of Israel in the international arena.
Its identity as a Muslim state and a NATO member, but critical of the liberal-Western order, has allowed Turkey to position itself as a leading moral voice, strengthening its regional and international standing. In addition to the importance the Turkish government attributes to the Palestinian issue and the broad support for the Palestinian position among the Turkish public in general, and Erdogan’s electoral base in particular, this issue serves as a platform for positioning Turkey as a voice challenging the West and speaking on behalf of “the oppressed in the world.”
Erdogan’s tenure has seen a systematic shift toward Islamization within Turkey. His government has expanded religious education, restricted alcohol sales, and promoted conservative social policies. These measures, coupled with the suppression of secular institutions, align with his stated goal of raising a “pious generation.”
Erdogan, from his comments, seems to consider himself the rightful leader of the entire Muslim world. In the interim, he evidently sees himself as the Middle East’s next great power broker, claiming leadership while chaos reigns.
Already entrenched in Syria, steadily expanding an indigenous defence industry capable of producing sophisticated drones, naval vessels, and eventually advanced fighter aircraft, while seeking a foothold in Gaza, Ankara increasingly appears intent on filling the regional vacuum Iran leaves behind. Tehran sought to surround Israel with a Shi’ite ring of fire. Ankara appears willing to create a Sunni one.
Henry Srebrnik is a professor emeritus at the University of Prince Edward Island
Features
Can Deni Avdija lead Portland to the title next year?
It is too early to say if Deni Avdija is ready to lead the Portland Trail Blazers to the NBA Finals in 2027, but it’s not too much to hope for. But the trade to Washington in 2024 is arguably a signature move for Portland. All those who followed him on basketball results on SportyTrader have seen him grow from an all-purpose prospect into an All-Star creator and a testament to the Blazers’ rebuild.
It is not Avdija’s question as to whether he can be a one-man savior. Whether his scoring and playmaking, defense and competitive edge can support a roster that’s become ambitious.
The catalyst: Avdija’s arrival and Portland’s new hope
Deni Avdija was traded to Portland on July 6, 2024, with Washington receiving veteran guard Malcolm Brogdon, the draft rights to No. 14 pick Bub Carrington, a 2029 first-round pick, a 2028 second-round pick, and a 2030 second-round pick in return. The cost seemed to be very high, but the deal with Deni Avdija is becoming more and more justified.
In the 2025-26 campaign, Avdija averaged 24.2 points, 6.9 rebounds and 6.7 assists in 66 games played, and had a shooting percentage of 46.2 percent on the field and 80.2 percent at the free throw line. He has made his first All-Star call-up, his first call-up as an Israeli player. That was a turning point in his career and catapulted him into one of the most prominent Israeli athletes.
One thing that is still being questioned is his perimeter efficiency. He was 36.5 percent on 3-pointers in 2024-25, falling to 31.8 percent with an average of six attempted three-pointers per game. However, his versatility to attack closeouts, get to the ball, rebound, play several positions defensively, and start transition offense means that he is valuable.
What does ‘leading a team’ truly mean for Avdija?
Avdija is not quite in the Nikola Jokic or Giannis Antetokounmpo class; he doesn’t dominate each possession defensively, nor is he a Giannis Antetokounmpo who sets a championship system in motion. He’s becoming a more realistic high-level foundational leader, a part scorer, a part connector and a part tone-setter.
Standards are as necessary as statistics are in Portland. Avdija is aggressive with the ball, physically in it and plays with his heart. Those habits can become the culture on a young team that will ultimately foster contention.
He could still keep on climbing his ladder. The leap from 16.9 and 3.9 assists in 2024-25 to 24.2 and 6.7 indicates that the new found creation is more than just additional minutes. Whether he will grow into an All-Star every year comes down to avoiding turnovers, being able to break from defenders with pull-up shots and providing reliability in the playoffs.
Analyzing his fit with the current Blazers roster
Earlier discussions about what Portland is to look for at Deandre Ayton and Anfernee Simons are now outdated. Then, the 2026-27 bunch now contains Ja Morant, Damian Lillard, Jrue Holiday, Scoot Henderson, Shaedon Sharpe, and Toumani Camara, and Donovan Clingan should be added as well.
That’s opportunity and tension. The combination of Morant’s rim pressure will be a gamebreaker, and if Lillard is able to come back from the Achilles, he can pose defenses a threat with his shooting. Avdija can be used as a backup secondary initiator, attack mismatches and cover a tough defensive task. Camara and Clingan provide volume and bulk following him.
But, ball placement will be key. Morant, Lillard, Henderson and Avdija are all in need of touches. New coach Micah Nori will have to find a way to build an offense that takes advantage of Avdija’s abilities without it becoming a ‘spot-up’ forward.
The reality check: Portland’s long road to contention
There are no signs of a championship next season. Portland reached the playoffs for the first time since 2021, but were eliminated by the San Antonio Spurs in the first round of the Western Conference playoffs, with Victor Wembanyama’s return from a concussion in Game 4 proving decisive in San Antonio’s series win. That’s good, but not good enough to prove that they are champions.
Blazers still have work to do in the scoring, line-up balance, and postseason experience departments, plus clarity on who they’re going to rely on to be their starting closer. Morant is packed with star quality, and some risk. Lillard is 36 and coming back from a major injury. In the younger core, the prospects are good but not certain.
The rebuilds that generally work the way they’re supposed to go, go through a number of phases: asset building, playoff success, series success, then placing a claim on the title. Although Portland is past the beginning stages, one successful season isn’t going to close the gap between the team and the NBA elite.
The verdict: Can Avdija be a champion in Portland?
Avdija likely will not be the man for Portland to win the title next year. But he can also be the invaluable asset to a future contender. With his shot accuracy back at three-point, the turnovers will come down, his decision-making in the playoffs improves, another All-Star season is possible.
He’s a Portland Trail Blazers development litmus test now. Maybe not the only superstar that brings a trophy, but he can be the multi-faceted cornerstone that makes a real title structure possible.
