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What would you do if you found out – at age 34 – that your mother was artificially inseminated, you’re half Ashkenazi Jewish, and you have at least six other siblings?
By BERNIE BELLAN Artificial insemination has been around for a very long time. “The first documented application of artificial insemination in humans was done in London in the 1770s by John Hunter,” says an article from The National Library of Medicine. Sperm banks were first developed in the 1950s.
In the 1970s the University of Manitoba Medical School began an artificial insemination program under the direction of Dr. Jeremy Kredentser.
According to an article in the November 3, 1985 Winnipeg Free Press, “about 100 to 120 couples a year” were being seen in that program, said Dr. Kredentser at the time.
The article went on to explain that “Donor sperm is collected from carefully screened donors such as doctors, medical students and others associated with the U of M.”
Under the rules of that program donors were allowed to submit a maximum of 25 sperm donations – which meant any children who were born as a result of artificial insemination from the program could have quite a few half brothers or sisters.
That program actually was the forerunner of what is now the Heartland Fertility Clinic, where Dr. Kredentser practised and was a director for many years.
But, just as is the case with many individuals who have found out later in life that they were adopted, many individuals who have been fathered by anonymous sperm donors want to know about their actual biological ancestry.
In the past few years, as a result of increasingly sophisticated DNA testing, many of those individuals have been able to discover, not only a great deal of information about their ancestry, but very specific information about relatives about whom they would likely never have known.
Such was the case with one young Winnipeg man, who will be referred to in this article simply as T, not because he insisted on anonymity, but because we wanted to take steps to protect the identities of his siblings and, more importantly, his biological father, whose identity was discovered by T through a process of sleuthing. To this point, T notes, despite his fairly recent attempt to reach out to his biological father, he has not received a response.
We had been made aware of T’s story by a mutual acquaintance. When I heard though that T had discovered he was “49% Ashkenazi Jewish” I thought that his story of discovery might make for a fascinating read – if he was willing to share it.
Not only was T extremely forthcoming in telling me his story, he was eager to have it written about. HIs hope is that his biological father might also become aware of this story and come to the realization that T’s motivation in attempting to make contact with him – as it often is with children who have discovered they have been adopted, is not at all malicious; it is a mixture of curiosity, also a desire to learn whether there are any genetic traits about which they should become aware.
A’s story begins in December 2021. What began largely as a lark turned into something quite unexpected. T explains that he and his wife wanted to take DNA tests – not for any particular reason, simply out of curiosity.
T and his wife decided to register on a site called “23andMe,” where all you have to do is send in a DNA sample (from your saliva) for testing. If someone else who has also registered on the site – and has allowed their identity to be known to individuals who turn out to be related, you will receive a notification that you have matches. (The other very popular site that offers a similar service is Ancestry.com.)
In most cases, as T noted, the results will turn up a slew of distant cousins – possibly some closer cousins, but not much more than that.
However, the story took a very unexpected twist – even before T and his wife got their results back. It was late 2021and T’s mother was over to T’s and his soon-to-be wife’s house. T says he told his mother about the DNA test that he and his wife had taken and explained to her – in a joking way he thought, that “we were gonna make sure we’re not related.”
But, his mother’s reaction took him by surprise, he says. She “showed that she was a little bit agitated.”
T says he wondered whether he was “like, oh God, adopted?”
He continues: “…and then she told me, she divulged that information, she said she was going to tell me sooner than later, but on account of this, you know, the advent of all these DNA kits and stuff, she realized that the writing was on the wall, but you know, when they did it, and …the origins of this, um, fertility company, which was in the mid 80s.” (By “fertility company,” T is referring to the program that had been run at the University of Manitoba Medical School.)
I said to T: “Because in anticipation of what you’re gonna find out, she’s gonna have to break the news after all these years (that she had been artificially inseminated) . Okay. so then how much longer did you have to wait for the results?”
I asked T why his mother had been artificially inseminated? It turns our that her husband – the man T had always believed was his biological father, had had a vasectomy prior to T’s mother marrying him – and T’s mother desperately wanted to have a child.
T explains that the results came back quite quickly – only a month later.
As T describes it, “I’m dying to find out. We’ve rolled the dice here. So we’re waiting to hear what’s going to happen. I don’t know. I had no idea about the Ashkenazi Jewish thing. Back then, I had no idea about any siblings.”
Something else should be explained at this point. T’s mother was married fairly late in life – to a man who had been previously married, and who had two sons from his previous marriage – who are 20 years older than T. As T says, “I was pretty excited because I’ve always wanted, you know, a brother or sister, but my own age.” And here was his chance to discover that he did have another sibling, maybe more than one – much closer to his own age.
The results of A’s DNA test came back from 23andMe with the revelation that T was 49% Ashkenazi Jewish. Further, as T says, “only one sibling is showing, and then like a million cousins. Like, second, second, third, distant cousins at that point.” (It should be explained that not only do 23andMe and Ancestry.com provide names of relatives whose genetic profiles match – at least somewhat, they provide pictures as well.)
But, as T says, the results showed “nobody who looks like me, no names I recognize. And a lot of the distant cousins are presumably on the paternal side. So it’s like a lot of Jewish names in New York.”
Yet, there was a sibling – a half sister (whose name will not be revealed), but who didn’t live in Winnipeg any more. Still, T reached out to her and the half sister revealed to T that she had known since she was 15 that she was the product of artificial insemination, but nothing more than that.
Another year rolls by – it’s now 2022 and suddenly T and his half sister are informed by 23andMe that they have another half brother – who lives in Winnipeg, and who’s a year younger than T.
T and his new half brother connect. As T says, “he’s like 10 minutes away from me…but the weirdest part about this is like, I can’t find any connection with him in Winnipeg, which is weird because we’re lifelong Winnipeggers and it takes, you know how it is, it takes no time at all to find a Winnipeg connection, right?”
But A’s new half brother also tells T and the half sister that he had only recently tried 23andMe because he had been on Ancestry.com – but it hadn’t yielded any close matches. However, in 2023, after the new half brother is introduced to T and the other half sister, the new half brother receives a notification from Ancestry.com that they’ve reviewed his DNA results again – and this time they’ve found three new half sisters – all of whom live in Winnipeg!
It turns out that each of those half sisters had been aware they were the products of artificial insemination. There turns out to be one more half brother – who doesn’t live in Winnipeg – bringing the total of known siblings to seven. As T notes, however, there could be as many as 18 more siblings!
Okay, so now we know T has six siblings, and they’re all 49% Ashkenazi Jewish. How does that lead to T’s discovering who the sperm donor was?
At this point I have to be very careful not to get too specific, out of concern that identities that should remain anonymous are not divulged.
It turns out though that someone else had been on Ancestry.com – but later it emerges that the reason this person would have been on Ancestry.com was that she was a Holocaust survivor, likely looking for long lost relatives who had been separated by World War II.
This woman had reached out to one of T’s half sisters and asks her whether she is a cousin. The half sister responds: “No, I’m your granddaughter.”
Apparently, according to T, finding that out likely “spooked” the Holocaust survivor, and she “ghosted” T’s half sister. T says her “profile disappeared and has not been heard from since.”
(By way of explanation, when Ancestry.com reports a match, it indicates the level of closeness between two individuals. e.g., a parent or a child will be identified as a parent or child; a grandparent, grandchild or sibling will be identified as “immediate family. T’s half sister discovered that she had a paternal grandmother. She didn’t know that this woman was a Holocaust survivor immediately.)
T’s half brother – who had been on both Ancestry.com and 23andMe, did inform T of their paternal grandmother’s name – in 2023. It turns out that the other three half sisters, along with A’s half brother – all of whom had been on Ancestry.com, and who had found each other on Ancestry.com, had also done some digging on their own.
One of the half sisters was told about a book titled “Stories of Winnipeg Holocaust Survivors,” which was compiled by Belle Jarniewski, currently Executive Director of the Jewish Heritage Centre of Western Canada. (At the time Belle was known as Belle Milo, which is the name given on the cover of the book.)
There is a chapter in the book devoted to the story of the Holocaust survivor who had reached out to the half sister. In that chapter the names of the woman’s children are given. It didn’t take too long for that half sister to deduce which of the women’s children would have been the sperm donor. She shared that information with her two other half sisters in Winnipeg – but none of them made any attempt to contact their biological father.
(By the way, once T revealed his paternal grandmother’s name to me I did find some references to her in the Jewish Post archives that are accessible on jewishpostandnews.ca. One of those references included the names of her children. It turns out that I knew one of those children from chlldhood.)
Once T was informed by his half brother in Winnipeg of their paternal grandmother’s name, but without having learned that the three Winnipeg half sisters actually knew who their biological father was, he began his own search online for information about the Holocaust survivor who was their paternal grandmother.
He didn’t turn anything up until he, too, discovered the same book, “Stories of Winnipeg Holocaust Survivors, ” that had been key to one of his half sisters discovering who their biological father was.
As T says, “I found the book online, read it, and I found the (children’s) names. And then I looked up her (son’s name). And after a half an hour I found, like, the timeline for (son’s name).” and the timeline for this particular individual and what he would have been doing in 1985, which is when T’s mother was artificially inseminated, fit perfectly.
T says that once “I figured out who the guy was, I found a picture, and I’m like, okay, this man looks like me, this is the guy, and then once I started connecting with the other sisters, they all confirmed that, in fact, was the guy.”
But, before attempting to reach out to their biological father, T wanted to make sure that each of the other siblings was on board with what he was attempting to do. As he says, “At this point, before I reached out to the donor, I wanted to make sure that I had consent from everybody else.”
A received everyone’s permission and T proceeded to write a hand-written letter to their biological father, which he sent in March 2024. As A says, “I get the guy’s address. And I decide that I, like, I really want to reach out I’m just dying of curiosity. Nobody else has (reached out) yet. I don’t understand why. And I’m like, okay. So I write him a handwritten letter that basically just introduced like who I am and that we understand that we might have a connection to him We’re grateful for him.
“And if he has any interest in contacting us, here’s how we can be contacted But otherwise, we’re not going to bug you. The ball’s in your court. We have no interest in ransacking your life because at the end of the day, we’re all grateful for, you know, what you’ve done for us, and we all have great lives, and thank you, that kind of thing.” To this point T says he has not received any response.
Something I wondered about – and what I’m sure you’re also wondering about, is the revelation that the genetic make-up that T and each of his siblings is carrying is 49% Ashkenazi Jewish. I wondered whether finding that out has made any difference in the lives of T and his siblings?
In fact, the answer – if T and his siblings are truthful, is that it hasn’t made any difference at all. T says he “grew up in the United Church,” but doesn’t consider himself religious. Perhaps somewhat ironically, T says that “half of my friends are Ashkenazi Jewish guys.” In fact, he’s very familiar with Jewish culture and has been to the Shaarey Zedek Synagogue many times. (I should note that the person who put me on to this story is Jewish and has known T for years.)
There are many other twists to T’s story – about how closely connected he is to so many aspects of Jewish life, but again – for the sake of confidentiality I won’t reveal them here. Suffice to say that T could very easily immerse himself into the Jewish community here without missing a beat – if that’s what he chose to do.
As for his siblings – well, that’s a different story. T says that finding out they had Jewish genes seemed more like a matter of curiosity to them than anything particularly important to their sense of identity. One should bear in mind that many of the individuals who go on to sites like Ancestry.com or 23andMe find out very surprising things about their ancestry, but it hardly changes their own concept of who they are.
T, though, looks upon the revelation that he’s half Jewish with a certain sense of bemusement, but also an explanation for some aspects of his own identity. As he says, “I think it makes me more interesting, and honestly, when I look in the mirror, and what I’m seeing is like, my physiology is turning into a frumpy old Jewish man. My dad (or at least the man T thought was his dad and who raised him) is, like, 6’2. My brothers are 6’1; they’re tall.”
T says though that he has “freckles and a skinny Adam’s apple. And I’m, like: ‘Why do I look like any of these (Jewish) guys (who are his friends)? So, anyway, it just, it clicks, it makes a lot more sense for me. It really helps, it helps me kind of make a little… a piece of the whole situation.”
But there are other aspects to T’s past that are more troublesome. He’s had some issues that might have been inherited – as does one of his brothers. T says that “I’d love to just talk to this guy for an hour. See what he’s like, you know, see if he’s musical,” for instance.
I say to T: “I’m not interested in outing him. You know, if he wants to remain anonymous, let him remain anonymous, but maybe he’ll have second thoughts about it. If someone happens to contact him and says, ‘Hey, uh, we read this story or we heard about a story – and it might be you they’re talking about in the story’.” After all, there must have a fair number of men who donated their sperm in that University of Manitoba Medical School program back in the 1970s and 80s. Wouldn’t some of them be curious to learn what the results were from their donations?
Of course, there have been stories about children of women who were artificially inseminated who have gone after the sperm donors. As T concedes, “I kind of assume his reticence kind of lies in that very kind of thing. There’s a whole bunch of Netflix specials that have come out, and there’s some movies over the last ten years, and I’ve watched all of them.”
Still, despite the assurances that men like T’s biological father who donated their sperm may have received that their identities would remain anonymous, advances in genetic testing have shown that those assurances have been made moot. If it were up to me I’d want to own up to my having provided the sperm that ended up helping to produce a child. Otherwise, now that T’s father has received the information that his identity is known to at least seven of the children that he was responsible for fathering, he’s going to have to live with the possibility that one of those children may show up on his doorstep one day.
One final note about this story: T tells me that he and his six known siblings are all on good terms and communicate with one another. In fact, they all had a get-together this past summer where many of them met each other for the first time. I’d have liked to refer to is a reunion – but that would be a misnomer. How about calling it a “kum zeets,” which is the Israeli term for a get together?
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MyIQ: Supporting Lifelong Learning Through Accessible Online IQ Testing
Strong communities are built on education, curiosity, and meaningful conversation. Whether through schools, cultural institutions, or family discussions at the dinner table, intellectual growth has always played a central role in local life. Today, digital tools are expanding the ways individuals explore personal development — including the ability to assess cognitive skills online.
One such platform is MyIQ, an online service that allows users to take a structured IQ test and receive detailed results. As more people seek accessible educational resources, platforms like MyIQ are becoming part of broader conversations about learning, intelligence, and personal growth.
Why Cognitive Self-Assessment Matters in Local Communities
Education as a Community Value
Across many communities, education is viewed not simply as academic achievement, but as a lifelong commitment to learning. Parents encourage curiosity in their children. Students strive for academic excellence. Adults pursue professional growth or personal enrichment.
Cognitive assessment tools offer a structured way to reflect on skills such as:
- Logical reasoning
- Numerical understanding
- Pattern recognition
- Verbal analysis
These are foundational abilities that influence academic performance and everyday problem-solving.
Encouraging Constructive Dialogue
Online discussions about intelligence often spark meaningful reflection. When handled responsibly, IQ testing can serve as a starting point for conversations about:
- Study habits
- Educational opportunities
- Strengths and challenges
- The balance between genetics and environment
MyIQ fits into this dialogue by providing structured results and transparent explanations.
What Is MyIQ?
MyIQ is an online IQ testing platform designed to measure reasoning abilities across multiple cognitive domains. Unlike casual internet quizzes, MyIQ presents an organized testing experience followed by contextualized reporting.
A public Reddit discussion that references the platform can be viewed here: MyIQ
In this thread, users openly discuss their results and reflect on possible influences such as family background and personal development. The transparency of this conversation highlights organic engagement and reinforces the platform’s credibility.
How the MyIQ Test Is Structured
Multi-Domain Assessment
MyIQ evaluates intelligence across several structured areas:
Logical Reasoning
Assesses the ability to analyze information and draw conclusions.
Mathematical Reasoning
Measures comfort with numbers, sequences, and quantitative logic.
Pattern Recognition
Evaluates the ability to detect visual or numerical relationships.
Verbal Comprehension
Tests interpretation and understanding of written material.
This approach ensures that results are not based on a single narrow skill set but on a broader cognitive profile.
Clear and Contextualized Results
After completing the assessment, users receive:
- An overall IQ score
- Percentile ranking
- Explanation of score range
- Identification of stronger and weaker domains
For individuals unfamiliar with IQ metrics, percentile ranking offers helpful context. Instead of viewing a number in isolation, users can understand how their results compare statistically.
Such clarity supports responsible interpretation and reduces misunderstanding.
Comparing MyIQ to Informal IQ Quizzes
| Feature | MyIQ | Informal Online Quiz |
| Structured Categories | Yes | Often Random |
| Percentile Explanation | Included | Rare |
| Balanced Reporting | Yes | Minimal |
| Community Discussion | Active | Limited |
| Professional Presentation | Yes | Varies |
For readers interested in credible digital services, this structured approach stands out.
Responsible Use of IQ Testing
It is important to emphasize that IQ scores represent specific cognitive abilities measured under standardized conditions. They do not define:
- Character
- Work ethic
- Creativity
- Compassion
- Community involvement
Many successful individuals contribute meaningfully to their communities regardless of standardized test scores. MyIQ presents results as informational tools rather than labels, encouraging thoughtful reflection.
The Role of Community Feedback
Trust in digital services increasingly depends on transparent user experiences. The Reddit thread linked above demonstrates:
- Voluntary sharing of results
- Open questions about interpretation
- Constructive discussion about intelligence and background
- Honest reflection on expectations
Such dialogue aligns with community values that prioritize conversation and shared understanding.
When users openly analyze their experiences, it adds authenticity beyond promotional claims.
Who Might Benefit from MyIQ?
Students
Students preparing for academic milestones may find value in understanding their reasoning strengths.
Parents
Parents curious about cognitive development may use structured assessments as conversation starters about learning habits.
Professionals
Adults seeking self-improvement can use IQ testing as one of many personal development tools.
Lifelong Learners
Individuals who enjoy intellectual exploration may simply appreciate structured insight into how they process information.
Digital Tools and Modern Learning
Community life increasingly intersects with technology. From online education platforms to digital libraries, accessible learning resources are expanding opportunities.
MyIQ fits into this landscape by offering:
- Online accessibility
- Clear and structured format
- Immediate feedback
- Transparent reporting
This accessibility allows individuals to explore cognitive assessment privately and thoughtfully.
Intelligence: Genetics and Environment
The Reddit discussion highlights a common question: how much of intelligence is influenced by genetics versus environment?
While scientific research suggests both play roles, IQ testing should not be viewed as deterministic. Education quality, nutrition, mental stimulation, and life experiences all contribute to cognitive development.
MyIQ does not claim to define destiny. Instead, it offers a snapshot — a moment of measurement within a broader life journey.
Final Thoughts: MyIQ as a Tool for Reflection
Communities thrive when curiosity is encouraged and learning is valued. In this spirit, structured self-assessment tools can serve as part of a healthy intellectual culture.
MyIQ provides an organized, transparent, and discussion-supported approach to online IQ testing. With contextualized results and visible community dialogue, the platform demonstrates credibility and accessibility.
For readers interested in exploring their reasoning abilities — whether for academic, professional, or personal reasons — MyIQ offers a modern digital option aligned with the principles of education, reflection, and lifelong growth.
Used thoughtfully, it becomes not a label, but a conversation starter — one that supports curiosity, awareness, and continued learning within any engaged community.
Features
A Thousand Miracles: From Surviving the Holocaust to Judging Genocide
By MARTIN ZEILIG Theodor Meron’s A Thousand Miracles (Hurst & Company, London, 221 pg., $34.00 USD) is an uncommon memoir—one that links the terror of the Holocaust with the painstaking creation of the legal institutions meant to prevent future atrocities.
It is both intimate and historically expansive, tracing Meron’s path from a child in hiding to one of the most influential jurists in modern international law.
The early chapters recount Meron’s survival in Nazi occupied Poland through a series of improbable escapes and acts of kindness—the “miracles” of the title. Rendered with restraint rather than dramatization, these memories form the ethical foundation of his later work.
That moral clarity is evident decades later when, on the seventy-fifth anniversary of the liberation of Auschwitz, he addressed the UN General Assembly and reminded the world that “the German killing machine did not target Jews only but also the Roma, Poles, Russians and others,” while honoring “the Just—who risked their lives to save Jews.” It is a moment that encapsulates his lifelong insistence on historical accuracy and universal human dignity.
What sets this memoir apart is its second half, which follows Meron’s transformation into a central architect of international humanitarian law. Before entering academia full time, he served in Israel’s diplomatic corps, including a formative posting as ambassador to Canada in the early 1970s. Ottawa under Pierre Trudeau was, as he recalls, “an exciting, vibrant place,” and Meron’s responsibilities extended far beyond traditional diplomacy: representing Israel to the Canadian Jewish community, travelling frequently to Toronto, Montreal, and Vancouver, and even helping to promote sales of Israeli government bonds. His affection for Canada’s cultural life—Montreal’s theatre, Vancouver’s “stunning vistas”—is matched by his candor about the political pressures of the job.
One episode proved decisive.
He was instructed to urge Canadian Jewish leaders to pressure their government to move the embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem—a request he found ethically questionable. His refusal provoked an attempt to recall him, a move that reached the Israeli cabinet. Only the intervention of Finance Minister Pinhas Sapir, who valued Meron’s work, prevented his dismissal. The incident, he writes, left “a fairly bitter taste” and intensified his desire for an academic life—an early sign of the independence that would define his legal career.
That independence is nowhere more evident than in one of the most contentious issues he faced as legal adviser to the Israeli Foreign Ministry: the legal status of Israeli settlements in the occupied West Bank. Meron recounts being asked to provide an opinion on the legality of establishing civilian settlements in territory captured in 1967.
His conclusion was unequivocal: such settlements violated the Fourth Geneva Convention as well as the private property rights of the Arab inhabitants. The government chose a different path, and a wave of settlements followed, complicating prospects for a political solution. Years later, traveling through the West Bank, he was deeply troubled by the sight of Jewish settlers obstructing Palestinian farmers, making it difficult—and at times dangerous—for them to reach their olive groves, even uprooting trees that take decades to grow.
“How could they impose on Arab inhabitants a myriad of restrictions that did not apply to the Jewish settlers?” he asks. “How could Jews, who had suffered extreme persecution through the centuries, show so little compassion for the Arab inhabitants?”
Although he knew his opinion was not the one the government wanted, he believed firmly that legal advisers must “call the law as they see it.” To the government’s credit, he notes, there were no repercussions for his unpopular stance. The opinion, grounded in human rights and humanitarian law, has since become one of his most cited and influential.
Meron’s academic trajectory, detailed in the memoir, is remarkable in its breadth.
His year at the Max Planck Institute in Heidelberg (1984–85) produced Human Rights Law–Making in the United Nations, which won the American Society of International Law’s annual best book prize. He held visiting positions at Harvard Law School, Berkeley, and twice at All Souls College, Oxford.
He was elected to the Council on Foreign Relations in 1992 and, in 1997, to the prestigious Institute of International Law in Strasbourg. In 2003 he delivered the general course at the Hague Academy of International Law, and the following year received the International Bar Association’s Rule of Law Award. These milestones are presented not as selfpromotion but as steps in a lifelong effort to strengthen the legal protections he once lacked as a child.
His reflections on building the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia (ICTY)—balancing legal rigor with political constraints, and confronting crimes that echoed his own childhood trauma—are among the book’s most compelling passages. He writes with unusual candor about the emotional weight of judging atrocities that, in many ways, mirrored the violence he narrowly escaped as a boy.
Meron’s influence, however, extends far beyond the Balkans.
The memoir revisits his confidential 1967 legal opinion for the U.S. State Department, in which he concluded that Israeli settlements in the territories occupied after the Six Day War violated international humanitarian law—a view consistent with the opinion he delivered to the Israeli government itself. His distress at witnessing settlers obstruct Palestinian farmers and uproot olive trees underscores a recurring theme: the obligation of legal advisers to uphold the law even when politically inconvenient.
The book also highlights his role in shaping the International Criminal Court (ICC). Meron recalls being “happy and excited to be able to help in the construction of the first ever permanent international criminal court” at the 1998 Rome Conference.
His discussion of the ICC’s current work is characteristically balanced: while “most crimes appear to have been committed by the Russians” in Ukraine, he notes that “some crimes may have been committed by the Ukrainians as well,” underscoring the prosecutor’s obligation to investigate all sides.
He also points to the ICC’s arrest warrants for President Putin, for Hamas leaders for crimes committed on October 7, 2023, and for two Israeli cabinet members for crimes in Gaza—examples of the Court’s mandate to pursue accountability impartially, even when doing so is politically fraught.
Throughout, Meron acknowledges the limitations of international justice—the slow pace, the uneven enforcement, the geopolitical pressures—but insists on its necessity. For him, law is not a cureall but a fragile bulwark against the collapse of humanity he witnessed as a child. His reflections remind the reader that international law, however imperfect, remains one of the few tools available to restrain the powerful and protect the vulnerable.
The memoir is also a quiet love story.
Meron’s devotion to his late wife, Monique Jonquet Meron, adds warmth and grounding to a life spent confronting humanity’s darkest chapters. Their partnership provides a counterpoint to the grim subject matter of his professional work and reveals the personal resilience that sustained him.
Written with precision and modesty, A Thousand Miracles avoids selfaggrandizement even as it recounts a career that helped shape the modern architecture of international justice.
The result is a powerful testament to resilience and moral purpose—a reminder that survivors of atrocity can become builders of a more just world.
Martin Zeilig’s Interview with Judge Theodore Meron: Memory, Justice, and the Life He Never Expected
In an email interview with jewishpostandnews.ca , the 95 year-old jurist reflects on survival, legacy, and the moral demands of international law.
Few figures in modern international law have lived a life as improbable—or as influential—as Judge Theodore Meron. Holocaust survivor, scholar, adviser to governments, president of multiple UN war crimes tribunals, Oxford professor, and now a published poet at 95, Meron has spent decades shaping the global pursuit of justice. His new memoir, A Thousand Miracles, captures that extraordinary journey.
He discussed the emotional challenges of writing the book, the principles that guided his career, and the woman whose influence shaped his life.
Meron says the memoir began as an act of love and remembrance, a way to honor the person who anchored his life.
“The critical drive to write A Thousand Miracles was my desire to create a legacy for my wife, Monique, who played such a great role in my life.”
Her presence, he explains, was not only personal but moral—“a compass for living an honorable life… having law and justice as my lodestar, and never cutting corners.”
Reflecting on the past meant confronting memories he had long held at a distance. Writing forced him back into the emotional terrain of childhood loss and wartime survival.
“I found it difficult to write and to think of the loss of my Mother and Brother… my loss of childhood and school… my narrow escapes.”
He describes the “healing power of daydreaming in existential situations,” a coping mechanism that helped him endure the unimaginable. Even so, he approached the writing with restraint, striving “to be cool and unemotional,” despite the weight of the memories.
As he recounts his life, Meron’s story becomes one of continual reinvention—each chapter more improbable than the last.
“A person who did not go to school between the age of 9 and 15… who started an academic career at 48… became a UN war crimes judge at 71… and became a published poet at the age of 95. Are these not miracles?”
The title of his memoir feels almost understated.
His professional life has been driven by a single, urgent mission: preventing future atrocities and protecting the vulnerable.
“I tried to choose to work so that Holocausts and Genocides will not be repeated… that children would not lose their childhoods and education and autonomy.”
Yet he is cleareyed about the limits of the institutions he served. Courts, he says, can only do so much.
“The promise of never again is mainly a duty of States and the international community, not just courts.”
Much of Meron’s legacy lies in shaping the legal frameworks that define modern international criminal law. He helped transform the skeletal principles left by Nuremberg into robust doctrines capable of prosecuting genocide, crimes against humanity, and wartime sexual violence.
“Fleshing out principles… especially on genocide, crimes against humanity and especially rape.”
His work helped ensure that atrocities once dismissed as collateral damage are now recognized as prosecutable crimes.
Even with these advances, Meron remains realistic about the limits of legal institutions.
“Courts tried to do their best, but this is largely the duty of States and their leaders.”
Justice, he suggests, is not only a legal project but a political and moral one—requiring courage from governments, not just judges.
Despite witnessing humanity at its worst, Meron refuses to surrender to despair. His outlook is grounded in history, tempered by experience, and sustained by a stubborn belief in progress.
“Reforms in the law and in human rights have often followed atrocities.”
He acknowledges that progress is uneven—“not linear,” as he puts it—but insists that hope is essential.
“We have ups and downs and a better day will come. We should work for it. Despair will not help.”
Judge Theodore Meron’s life is a testament to resilience, intellect, and moral clarity.
A Thousand Miracles is not simply a memoir of survival—it is a record of a life spent shaping the world’s understanding of justice, guided always by memory, principle, and the belief that even in humanity’s darkest hours, a better future remains possible.
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Gamification in Online Casinos: What Do Casino Online DudeSpin Experts Say
Gamification is one of the trends in modern game development. The technology allows players to interact with in-game elements and complete various tasks to earn additional rewards. Sites like casino online DudeSpin are eager to explore new technologies. Canadian players are particularly drawn to gamification for the opportunity to test their skills and have fun. Various development approaches allow for the implementation of much of this functionality already at this stage of development.
Core Elements of Gamification
Gamification is a technology that implements various elements to increase player attention. This mechanic not only attracts new users but also increases the time spent playing. This method rewards the most active players and also uses interactive elements that evoke certain associations and habitual actions.
Gamification elements include:
Achievement systems. Players earn special points and rewards for achieving certain goals. For example, unlocking a new level awards points and free spins on slot machines.
Leaderboards. Competitive rankings increase player attention and encourage active betting. Furthermore, healthy competition between participants improves their overall performance.
Progressive mechanics. Players consistently achieve higher results, which unlock additional privileges. Constant progression creates the effect of maximum engagement and attention to the user’s personality.
Challenges. Special quests and daily missions help players feel needed, and a structured goal system encourages active betting.
Sites like casino online DudeSpin utilize all these components to make players feel part of a unified, evolving system.
Psychological Appeal of Gamification
The key to gamification’s success is that every player wants to feel special and appreciated. A reward system stimulates dopamine, which creates additional rewarding gameplay experiences. This is how sites like casino online DudeSpin retain a loyal audience and build a strong community.
Stable player progress serves as a motivation to continue betting and unlocking new achievements. Furthermore, a certain level on the leaderboard provides an opportunity to showcase your skills and connect with others at your level. Personalized offers enhance the effect of this uniqueness, encouraging more active betting in games. Structured goals and achievements help players manage their time spent active, focusing only on activities that truly benefit them.
Canadian Perspective on Gamified Casino Experiences
Canadian casinos are using gamification techniques for a reason. They’re developing a legal and modern market that appeals to local audiences. Furthermore, operators like casino online DudeSpin operate in compliance with local laws, which fosters trust.
Another reason for gamification’s popularity is the localization of content. All games, prizes, and tournaments are tailored to the local market. A loyal community communicates in a clear language and interacts according to audience preferences.
Many casinos also integrate responsible options to help players manage their deposits and avoid overspending. This structure makes gamification attractive.
Finally, gamification is already a traditional element of gameplay in Canadian casinos, attracting new audiences and increasing loyalty among existing ones.
Technology evolves alongside new opportunities, and operators strive to offer the best benefits to their most active players. This interaction makes gamification a viable solution for gamblers. Leaderboards, achievements, and adaptive features are particularly popular with Canadian users due to their personalization.