Surviving, Protecting, Thriving

Reflecting on antisemitism in Canada

The following is a speech that I delivered after services on December 14 at the Chabad of Markham Synagogue.

---

A Jewish woman in a hospital says to the doctor that she wants to be transferred. The doctor says, “What is it, the food?” She says, “The food is fine. I can’t complain.” “Is it the room?” he says. “No,” she says, “the room is beautiful. I can’t complain.” “What about the staff? Is there a problem with the staff?” She says, “No. They’re beautiful people. I can’t complain.” “So why do you want to be transferred?” he asks. “I can’t complain!” she says.

This isn’t going to be about kvetching, but it is going to lament some of the circumstances in which we find ourselves today, as Canadian Jews. Unlike in my joke where the woman wants to kvetch (complain) for the sake of it, I think this is somewhat warranted. Many of you have read this week the article by Terry Glavin in The Free Press, called “The Explosion of Jew Hate in Trudeau’s Canada.” I highly recommend reading it.

The Explosion of Jew-Hate in Trudeau’s Canada

Some of what follows came to mind while reading Glavin’s article. The figures and quotes I provide below also come from his piece.

Statistics

First, let me start with some figures:

• The Jewish community constitutes less than 1% of the population of Canada, with about 300,000 Jews, and an overall population of about 40 million;

• In the last 18 months, 70% of religiously motivated hate-crimes in Canada have been directed at Jews;

• There were 4 times as many antisemitic hate crimes as the second-most targeted religious minority (Muslims);

• Half of all hate crime calls in Toronto are about antisemitism. This includes allegations of unprovoked assault against Jews, uttering threats, and mischief to property;

• From October 2023 to July 2024, there were 1,556 calls to police in Toronto related to antisemitism. That is about five calls per day in a short period of time; and

• There has been a 670% increase in antisemitic attacks in Canada since Oct 7, 2023.

Glavin quotes Irwin Cotler recently saying, “I have never seen in all my life such a thing, such expressions from people of all ages, such expressions of apprehension, of isolation, insecurity, foreboding, expressed in different ways…I see it when I meet students; I see it when I meet with elderly people. I hear “This is not the Canada I know” or “This is not the Canada I came to” or “This is not the Canada I have ever experienced. This is something else.” And they are afraid to publicly express it.”

Glavin also quotes Shimon Fogel, the former CEO of CIJA, who said, “People really fail to understand the nature and the scope of the challenges we’re facing and what we’ve experienced over the past number of years. It’s really about the way the fundamental values of Western society are under assault in a way that they never have been. Many of us are sleepwalking through this challenge. I fear that we’re going to wake up in the not-too-distant future and say: ‘What the hell? How did this happen?”

How did this happen?

I read this, and felt exactly the same way. How did this happen? In our Canada?

And it’s disappointing. It’s scary. Recently, I’ve had thoughts about the future that I’ve never had before. Is Canada safe for Jews? Will it remain safe for us and our kids? And if we need to suddenly pick up and leave, what’s the exit plan?

I’ll be perfectly honest with you all: I have not personally experienced any antisemitism in Canada in recent years. I haven’t had anyone say anything disparaging to me about Jews or Israel, I haven’t been threatened, and I just haven’t experienced this to my face. But, I know it’s out there. Of course it is. Look at the statistics and look at the world around us. I am not naive enough to think that it could never happen to me, and I am certainly not someone who hides my Jewish identity either in person or online. I am loud and proud of who I am, I never leave the house these days without wearing a Magen David around my neck, or a dog tag or yellow ribbon to remember the hostages. Though I am sometimes lucky to be able to hide behind my not-overtly-Jewish-somewhat-German-last-name, I’m not trying to do so.

In fact, over the last few years, I’ve experienced far more pro-Semitism than anti-Semitism, personally. I’m a civil litigator and immigration lawyer. Since I started practicing 12 years ago, I’ve had countless times when people have called me up, and just before they decide to hire me, they say, “I just want to check something: you’re Jewish right?” And at the start I’d say, apprehensively, “Yes…why?” And they’d say, “Oh great, I just wanted to confirm. I hear you’re the best lawyers. Let’s do it.” As if we’re one giant Jewish law firm: Cohen, Levi & Israel LLP.

And I know you may say, well this is not exactly pro-Semitism Adam. Their believing that all Jewish lawyers are smart is a prejudice of some form as well. To that I say maybe, and that antisemitism is a complex and nuanced phenomenon, but in some respects, we have to find our friends where we can get them. If I as their Jewish lawyer can show them that I’m also a good person - and not just a good lawyer - then that goes a long way to fighting for, and standing up with/for our people too.

World turned upside down

But aside from these personal experiences, I know that we live in a world that is turned utterly upside down. It was like October 7 was a turning point not only for Jews and Israelis, but for all of Western civilization. Suddenly, it’s fine to brazenly be OK with terrorists, as long as the victims are Jews? Suddenly barbarism, rape, kidnapping, and murder, are not absolute wrongs? It depends who the victims are? Who they pray to? What their government says/does?

The lunacy of some of these positions, and the things that people are willing to rationalize was highlighted even further this past week - and no, I’m not talking about when Ireland tried to re-define the term genocide to try to fit it more in line with what they think Israel is doing to the Palestinians, or when people started to say that Israel was now perpetrating a genocide in Syria for destroying weapons stockpiles there - no I’m talking about when the CEO of United Healthcare, Brian Thompson, was assassinated at point blank range outside a hotel in Manhattan, New York, by Luigi Mangione. Thompson was a husband, and father of two. He was shot dead, in cold blood, by someone who was clearly deranged in some way, and yet people are saying that he deserved it? That the killer is a modern day Robin Hood? People are donating to the legal defense fund? You can buy a shirt with his picture on it, in New York, for $35. He killed someone!

As the Governor of Pennsylvania Josh Shapiro said this week:

Some attention in this case, especially online, has been deeply disturbing, as some have looked to celebrate instead of condemning this killer.

In America, we do not kill people in cold blood to resolve policy differences or express a viewpoint. I understand people have real frustration with our healthcare system, and I have worked to address that throughout my career.

But I have no tolerance, nor should anyone, for one man using an illegal ghost gun to murder someone because he thinks his opinion matters most. In a civil society, we are all less safe when ideologues engage in vigilante justice.

In some dark corners of the internet, this killer is being hailed as a hero. Hear me on this: he is no hero.

So what is going on?

Hen Mazzig, a popular online Jewish influencer, recently noted that:

These are deranged sociopaths, who have lost the way according to their moral compass.

So it just seems like the value system in the world has changed, not only towards Jews, but as so many of us know, it often starts with the Jews. As Glavin notes, it’s a scary sociopathology, where people are celebrating the murder of Jews, or sometimes others, on the streets, and it is all the more shocking because it is not coming just from people with extreme political views on the far left or far right of the spectrum. Glavin wrote that the RCMP counter-terrorism investigator John Mecher recently noted that, the current phenomenon of pro-Palestinian activism presents a far greater risk of recruitment to terrorism than was presented by the radical activist milieu following 9/11. Why? “Back then, you simply did not see people running through the streets saying, ‘I’m an al-Qaeda supporter, I love bin Laden.”

But they’re saying that today. They’re cosplaying as Yahya Sinwar. They are waving Hamas and Hezbollah flags on the streets. And the police are having a hard time dealing with this not only because of the volume of the assault, but because of the apparent lack of political will to do something significant about it.

Again, this is nothing short of nuts.

Antisemitism is here

Now I’m not here to scare you. Maybe what I’m trying to do is enlighten you, and make sure that on this Shabbat, December 14, you are just aware of what is going on in your country, and community. That though you may not have personally experienced antisemitism yourself, that it’s sadly lurking out there. That you need to be vigilant, and careful. And that we have to have our guard up a little higher than we used to. It’s been a rough year for Canada’s Jewish community, with drive-by shootings occurring in several cities, a coordinated bomb threat earlier this year, synagogues and Jewish businesses vandalized, and neighbourhoods under attack. This is not even mentioning everything our students are going through on campus. Montreal is now being described as “North America’s most dangerous city for Jews,” and Canada has entered, what Casey Babb, a national security expert, is describing as, “a dark and terrible period of systemic normalized, and institutionalized Jew hatred.”

Let me tell you another joke:

The old Jewish sage in the community is reaching his end. The family is all together waiting expectantly.

Gasping with his last breath he says to his wife “Get me a priest!”. Shocked to say the least, she sends for the local parish priest who gives the dying man last rites in the Church.

The relatives and the wife are appalled

“How could you do this in your last moments on earth?” his wife cries.

“Well, better one of them dies than one of us!”

There’s a darker version to this joke as well, and it goes like this:

In a small village in Poland, a terrifying rumor was spreading: A Christian girl had been found murdered. Fearing retaliation, the Jewish community gathered in the shul to plan whatever defensive actions were possible under the circumstances. Just as the emergency meeting was being called to order, in ran the president of the synagogue, out of breath and all excited. “Brothers,” he cried out, “I have wonderful news! The murdered girl is Jewish!”

This is an old joke. And it is a tale as old as time given that antisemitism is the world’s oldest form of hatred. It means we have just been dealing and coping with this forever, and we even have jokes about it too! That last one implies that we prefer that one of our own are killed rather than have us blamed for the death of someone outside of our community, which will likely result in more hatred and bloodshed against us. Again, that’s nuts!

But one of the reasons why antisemitism is the longest lasting hatred in the world - the world’s oldest conspiracy theory - is this: we live. We survive. We thrive. We are actually an exceptional people.

There are only 15 million Jews in the world. About 6 to 6.5 million live in Israel, another 6 million live in the US, and the rest are spread out in France, Russia, the UK, Canada, Argentina, and various other communities. But it is not just the number of hate crimes reported that are disproportionate to our number. It is our achievements. Both our willingness and ability to serve our own community as well as the broader secular community. Do you know that two Jewish women donated over $120 million to the restoration of Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris? It is our willingness to contribute to the betterment of mankind, whether it is our knowledge or our inventions, our moral code, or our cuisine, we will not be shut out, no matter how much hate we get.

Vayishlach

And this week’s parsha - Vayishlach - has something to say about the nature of antisemitism. Of course, there are many different theories for why antisemitism exists, and has thrived for so long. There is the belief that others are jealous of us, or that the hate us because we are so different, and that we stubbornly cling to our beliefs and traditions despite the world changing around us. There are ample other reasons given, but then in this week’s parsha, we learn that antisemitism…just is. There is no reason reason, and any attempt to rationalize or understand it is futile.

You’ll recall in the Biblical story that Yitzchak (Isaac) had twin sons: Esav was born first, and then Yaakov (Jacob). One day, after returning exhausted and hungry from hunting, Esav sells his birthright - his rights as firstborn child - to Jacob for a pot of red lentil stew. Later, before Yitzchak dies, he expresses a desire to bless Esav, but his wife Rebecca steps in and helps Yaakov deceive his father into thinking that he was blessing Esav, when he was actually blessing Yaakov. When the deception is revealed, despite Esav having already sold his brother his birthright as firstborn, Esav is angry, and Yaakov flees to Charan. There, he met his uncle Lavan, works for him for 14 years, marries Leah and then his beloved, Rachel.

After 20 years in Charan, in this week’s parsha, Yaakov returns to Canaan, preparing to confront his brother Esav once more.

Upon arriving, he learns that Esav is on the warpath, with 400 armed men, ready to fight. The Hebrew term for civil war is milchemet achim - literally a “war of brothers” - and this would be a battle true to that title. Jacob prepares for war, prays, and sends Esav a gift in an attempt to appease him.

Yaakov wrestling with God

That night, Yaakov famously wrestles with God, and is given the name Yisrael - he who struggles with God. This will of course be the name he goes by from that day forward, and will be the name of our ancient kingdom, as well as our modern state.

The next day, Yaakov is, nervously, prepared to meet Esav. The Torah then says,

וַיָּ֨רׇץ עֵשָׂ֤ו לִקְרָאתוֹ֙ וַֽיְחַבְּקֵ֔הוּ וַיִּפֹּ֥ל עַל־צַוָּארָ֖ו וַׄיִּׄשָּׁׄקֵ֑ׄהׄוּׄ וַיִּבְכּֽוּ

Esav ran to greet Yaakov. He embraced him, and he, falling on his neck, kissed him, and they wept.

Esav kissed Yaakov.

Now in the Torah - the word “Vayishakehu” (above) has dots spread out over the text. From my understanding, the presence of these dots only appears 10 times in the Torah. It encourages readers to look closely at the meaning of the word. In some cases, when a dot appears, it means to disregard the letter below it. But in this case, every letter is dotted, so it implies that the whole word is meaningless, or that whatever the word says, it actually means the opposite.

According to commentary from the Medieval scholar Rashi we are to understand that because of these dots, maybe Esav didn’t really kiss his brother, or, alternatively, that he did not do so with any real feeling.

But Rashi then quotes Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, who is often quoted for stating that the dots are there to imply that despite all suspicions, the kiss was delivered with genuine sentiment. You would think, given their history, that Esav would not mean to kiss his brother, but the dots are there to emphasize to the reader that yes - he actually did mean to kiss him, in good faith. At the moment of the encounter, Esav took pity on Yaakov, and embraced him wholeheartedly. But, Bar Yochai also reminds the reader that it is, in Hebrew, halacha hi beyaduah - a fact of life - or it is a law of nature - that Esav hates Yaakov. It is well known enough that Esav hates Yaakov, and though the feeling of love for Yaakov, perhaps in that exact moment, was genuine, that we must be reminded that Esav’s hatred for Yaakov is an immutable aspect of his nature. He just hates his brother. Period.

But why does Rashi quote Shimon Bar Yochai? There are plenty of other rabbis who offered their interpretations on this brotherly kiss. But Rashi quotes Bar Yochai because he was a rabbi who was known to have said that for every single mitzvah that exists in the Jewish religion, that he could offer a reason or rationale for it. His fellow rabbis and students did not think that this was so, that one could not actually give a reason for needing to do every mitzvah set out in the Jewish religion, but Bar Yochai believed there was.

However, he is also known to have said that there is one thing for which there was no reason: Jew hatred, or antisemitism.

Even Bar Yochai, who could give a reason and rationale for every single mitzvah, could not give a reason for why there was antisemitism in the world. He lived in the time of the Roman occupation of Palestine, and was well versed in what Jew hatred was at that time. And this is why Rashi used his interpretation of this kiss - to say that ‘halacha hi bayeduah’ - it is obvious that Esav hated his brother. There was not necessarily a reason, but it was a blinding hatred that was like a law of nature.

Even more so, Bar Yochai says that “Esav hates Yaakov” not that he “hated,” past tense, but currently hates. This implies that Bar Yochai was talking about a phenomenon of an ongoing nature, rather than just a mere episode between brothers long ago.

So this is the interpretation of antisemitism that we get from this week’s parsha. That antisemitism exists. Why? Who knows. It may not be because of jealousy, or that sin’ah, hatred, of the Jews, was formed at the same time the Jews received the Torah on Mt. Sinai (Sin’ah = Sinai). No, it is not jealousy, or the fact that we are different, it just is. Antisemitism just exists, like any other fact of nature.

What’s next?

But if that is the lesson that we get from this week’s parsha, and it is something that we are, today, 2000 years after Rabbi Shimon Bar Yochai, recognizing as a fact on our streets, then what are we going to do about it?

Well let me leave you with one more joke:

A synagogue is having an ongoing dispute that started small, but is now getting completely out of hand. It’s over whether you sit or stand during the Shema. The argument is incredibly bitter. There are people who are not talking to each other. There are people who are threatening to leave the synagogue unless they get their way. Family relationships have been destroyed.

The rabbi doesn’t know what to do, so he finds out that one of the founders of the synagogue, old Mr. Bernstein, is still alive in the Hebrew Home. He sits on the porch in a wheelchair when the delegations for each viewpoint pay a call. Before the rabbi can complete his opening spiel, one of the partisans bursts forth: “Mr. Bernstein, Mr. Bernstein, isn’t it the tradition in our synagogue that you stand during the Shema, so as to show your respect to God?” After a couple of seconds pass, he just shakes his head slightly and says “No.” So an advocate from the other side says: “So, isn’t the tradition in our synagogue that we always sit to show our humility before God?” Mr. Bernstein shakes his head and again says “No.”

The rabbi and the rest of the delegation look at each other. Finally the rabbi says, “Mr. Bernstein, that can’t be right. It has to be one or the other because the synagogue is tearing itself apart. There are people who hate each other and families that aren’t speaking to each other and we’ve practically got fist fights in the parking lot. We’re just constantly at each other’s throats.” And old Mr. Bernstein smiles, nods and says, “That’s the tradition!”

OK, we have our traditions and our customs, and sometimes we are at each other’s throats, but this is not a trap we can afford to fall for these days. We as Jews must be able to identify who our enemies are these days - and thankfully, they are not making this task too hard. They aren’t hiding. Their antisemitism is more brazen than almost ever before, and we just need to look for their flags, keffiyehs, or watermelons to identify them and understand their motives. They don’t want our Jewish state to exist, they don’t want Jews in the Middle East at all - in our ancestral homeland where we are the indigenous people - and they may not want us in their neighbourhoods in Canada either. But, we are not going anywhere.

So how do we fight antisemitism? By rising above it all. By being bold, by protecting ourselves, and each other. By supporting each other, by giving charity (tzedakah), by leading righteous lives, and by educating ourselves and our children, and being smarter and more cunning than we have ever been before.

Since the start of this war over one year ago, Israel has emerged as the mightiest force in the Middle East, a country with a proverbial yiddishe kop, that has learned everything it needs to learn about its enemies for one purpose: to survive.

By surviving, we take ownership of our birthright.

By protecting each other - as brothers ought to do - we remember the lessons of the past.

By thriving, we leave all the haters and antisemites in our dust.

This is what we must remember today, and what we can never afford to lose sight of, no matter how we feel in this country that we have chosen as our home.

Shabbat shalom (and now, shavua tov)