Showing posts with label Jewish community. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jewish community. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 16, 2017

Jewish community jumping ship as political storm takes Brazil - LUIS ROIZ TIMES OF ISRAEL

Shuttered storefronts on Sao Paolo's popular Augusta Street. (Luiz Roiz/Times of Israel)

Jewish community jumping ship as political storm takes Brazil

Unemployment, lack of upward mobility and fear of street violence among reasons for rapid increase of Brazilian Jews making aliyah,

BY LUIS ROIZ August 15, 2017 TIMES OF ISRAEL

SAO PAULO, Brazil — Over the last three years, Brazil’s usually lighthearted Carnival culture has been darkened by a political and economic crisis that has turned into the longest recession in the country’s history.

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In an attempt to root out the rot plaguing Brazil’s core, Operation Car Wash has exposed corruption at the highest political levels. Led by Attorney Sérgio Moro, a modern-day Eliot Ness, it is one of the deepest-running investigations of its kind.

Besides taking to the streets and social media in protest, the public’s only outlet is watching their politicians get butchered in the media — but still, average citizens continue to endure most of the fallout from the crisis.

Brazilian Jews share the same fate as everyone else in Latin America’s largest, most populous and economically developed country. Most of them fall into the middle class, an economic tier becoming more impoverished by the day since the onset of the record-setting two-year recession.

Last year’s impeachment of president Dilma Rousseff and the recent sentencing to nine-and-a-half years in prison for her predecessor Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva — known simply as Lula — have cast a pall over Brazil.

Bruno Laskowsky, president of the 
Jewish Federation of São Paulo. (Courtesy)


Lula was charged for corruption and money laundering, and Rousseff was either involved or failed to put an end to it. Now, serious accusations against the current president, Michel Temer, are adding fuel to the fire.

Rounding out the bleak scenario are the widespread arrests of politicians and businessmen, along with the dismantling of large companies involved in corruption scandals, such as Petrobras and Odebrecht.

The situation has been very trying for the country’s Jewish community of 110,000.

“Us Jews have experienced a fair share of suffering throughout history. Maybe we can help Brazil through these tough times,” says Bruno Laskowsky, president of the Jewish Federation of São Paulo.

São Paulo hold’s Brazil’s highest concentration of Jews. “We have been very welcome in Brazil and owe our loyalty to this nation, which, I am sure, will overcome this challenge sooner or later,” Laskowsky says.
Light at the end of the tunnel?

But while the community tries to focus on the light at the end of the tunnel, it needs to maintain a degree of resilience — and Brazil’s middle class is watching its standard of living disappear before their eyes.

“I had a comfortable house and a car, a regular job. And now, I’m back living with my parents. My family helps me out, fortunately,” says Rochelle Rosensweig, an economist with an MBA in finance.


Rochelle Rosensweig has an MBA in finance, but is considering becoming an Uber driver to pay the bills due to Brazil’s shrinking economy. (Courtesy)

Rosensweig now relies on a scholarship to keep her 12-year-old son enrolled in a Jewish school in São Paulo. Living off occasional freelance consulting gigs, she’s considering a second job as an Uber driver to guarantee a steadier income.

Despite her qualifications as a medical professional, psychologist Denise Lew also struggles to make ends meet as a civil servant.


Denise Lew and her son. (Courtesy)

“I can’t even afford to pay my son’s tuition. At the office, I have seen demand fall sharply in recent years because of the crisis. Nobody has any money,” she says.

Lew is broke, like many others. Interest rates in Brazil are sky high, causing debt to snowball. Both Rosensweig and Lew rely on assistance from Unibes, a Jewish charitable organization.

Many companies have shuttered or gone bankrupt in recent years. Pedestrians walking in São Paulo’s commercial centers are seeing a growing number of empty businesses. The real estate market is stalled, and vehicles are sold at large markdowns.

The economic downturn has also seen membership at Jewish community centers and clubs such as Hebraica gradually dwindle.

But Jewish families in Brazil have more serious concerns, such as ensuring a quality education for their children. Recently, the number of payment defaults in both Jewish and non-Jewish private schools has increased.

“Most Jewish schools receive philanthropic subsidies to keep them going,” says Laskowsky.


Rabbi David Weitman. director of Ten Yad. (Courtesy)

Demand in charities such as Ten Yad and Unibes in São Paulo has also increased. Both serve poor people of all backgrounds and are officially recognized as public services. Growing demand from members of the Jewish community is striking.

“The request for our meals and services is increasing by about 20% a year, and we have also realized a drop in the average age of our beneficiaries, meaning younger people are seeking us out,” says Ten Yad director Rabbi David Weitman.

Located in Bom Retiro, the old Jewish district of São Paulo, Ten Yad also offers a program that delivers food for people with no means of transportation.

“We are at the limit of our capacity,” Weitman tells The Times of Israel.

A century old, Unibes runs flea markets with used clothes and slightly damaged products in order to raise funds. When asked about the current situation in Brazil, the Unibes board preferred not to comment.
The situation in Rio

The situation in Rio de Janeiro is more dramatic. The Sugarloaf city is experiencing a crisis within a crisis. In addition to the swelling favelas, or slums, overflowing since the country’s capital moved to the city of Brasilia in the 1960s, Rio has been overrun with drug trafficking.

The city is commonly referred to as the “Gaza Strip” by Cariocas (Rio natives). Stray bullets hit the civilian population indiscriminately almost every day.


A shuttered storefront in Sao Paolo. (Luiz Roiz/Times of Israel)

In the reviled corruption rankings, former Rio governor Sérgio Cabral was among those leading the pack. He is now in jail. The “free for all” for public money tainted even the 2014 World Cup and the 2016 Olympic Games investments, and now, most of the region’s sports facilities are abandoned.


The flow of tourists has slowed to a trickle. Sixty-nine stores go out of business every day. Even next year’s cherished Carnival parade is threatened by a lack of funds. With no money to pay police officers and teachers, it’s a tough sell to finance rollicking.


Illustrative: A police officer patrols inside Rio de Janeiro International Airport in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, Wednesday, July 27, 2016. (AP Photo/Patrick Semansky)

Violence has led Carioca Jews to opt for emigration to Israel, says the Israeli consul in São Paulo, Dori Goren.

“Rio does not have a consulate,” says Goren, “so many Carioca Jews interested in aliyah come here [to São Paulo]. They report the fear of violence as one of the main reasons for emigrating.”
Voting with their feet

The Israeli consulate in São Paulo is making an extra effort to meet the overall increase in demand for emigration to Israel.

Israeli consul in Sao Paulo, Dori Goren. (Courtesy)

“It requires the translation of many documents and going through bureaucratic procedures. It’s not an easy job,” says Goren, who saw a similar situation in Argentina 15 years ago.

According to the Jewish Agency, the number of Brazilian emigrants is increasing. The end of 2015 saw a 77% increase in the number of olim (496) compared to 2014, which itself represented an increase of 39% (280) over the year prior (207).

2016 saw the arrival of 684 olim to Israel, 40% more than in 2015. And by May of this year, 346 new olim (29% more than in the same period in 2016) have already made Israel their new home.

“Israel will always open its arms to the Jews — even more now, when the unemployment rate is very low and the economy is thriving. Contrary to popular belief, Israel has a low violence rate, with only two annual deaths per 100,000 inhabitants,” says Goren.
The country of the future

The Brazilian crisis is part of the troubling mosaic created by neo-populism in Latin America.

Hugo Chavez and his successor Nicolas Maduro in Venezuela, Lula and Rousseff in Brazil, and Nestor Kirchner along with his wife Cristina in Argentina are among just a few examples of the troubling leadership there.

In Brazil, the economic teams working under Lula and Rousseff were betting on untapped oil resources to hide their corruption and poor governance. Unfortunately, they lost the bet, causing the country’s virtual collapse.


A used clothing flea market at the Unibes nonprofit in Sao Paulo, Brazil. (Courtesy)

A large number of idealistic young Jews in Brazil were charmed by the prospect of a country led by a former labor union man like Lula. They imagined that he could reduce social inequality without falling into the traps that stymied the traditional left in the past. But reality played out much differently than they’d imagined.

After a brief warm-up period which saw the bolstering of millions of people who previously had no purchasing power, the system crashed.

Lack of sustainability, no investment in infrastructure, inability to reform an archaic system and poor management are some of the main issues at blame. And then, of course, there was the unheard level of corruption. The politicians fell back on demagoguery to save face.


Paulista Avenue in Sao Paulo, Brazil is a main commercial artery, but lately more and more stores are closing down. (Luiz Roiz/Times of Israel)

“The twilight of an idol,” commented analyst Hélio Schwartsman recently in an article published in one of the most traditional newspapers, Folha de S.Paulo. He was describing the feeling of those who once believed in the labor union leader.

Now, a divided Brazil is unsure who will govern the country tomorrow. An optimistic few still cling to an expression coined by Jewish writer Stefan Zweig, who took refuge from Nazism here: “Brazil, the country of the future.” Ironically, both the writer and his wife took their own lives before this future had a chance to arrive.

Tuesday, August 15, 2017

In Charlottesville, the Local Jewish Community Presses On - ALAN ZIMMERMAN REFORMJUDAISM.ORG

Paper stick figures holding hands around a lit candle

In Charlottesville, the Local Jewish Community Presses On

At Congregation Beth Israel in Charlottesville, VA, we are deeply grateful for the support and prayers of the broader Reform Jewish community. Our thoughts and prayers are with the families of Heather Heyer and the two Virginia State Police officers, H. Jay Cullen and Berke Bates, who lost their lives on Saturday, and with the many people injured in the attack who are still recovering.
The loss of life far outweighs any fear or concern felt by me or the Jewish community during the past several weeks as we braced for this Nazi rally – but the effects of both will each linger.
On Saturday morning, I stood outside our synagogue with the armed security guard we hired after the police department refused to provide us with an officer during morning services. (Even the police department’s limited promise of an observer near our building was not kept — and note, we did not ask for protection of our property, only our people as they worshipped). 
Forty congregants were inside. Here’s what I witnessed during that time.
For half an hour, three men dressed in fatigues and armed with semi-automatic rifles stood across the street from the temple. Had they tried to enter, I don’t know what I could have done to stop them, but I couldn’t take my eyes off them, either. Perhaps the presence of our armed guard deterred them. Perhaps their presence was just a coincidence, and I’m paranoid. I don’t know.
Several times, parades of Nazis passed our building, shouting, “There's the synagogue!” followed by chants of “Seig Heil” and other anti-Semitic language. Some carried flags with swastikas and other Nazi symbols.
A guy in a white polo shirt walked by the synagogue a few times, arousing suspicion. Was he casing the building, or trying to build up courage to commit a crime? We didn’t know. Later, I noticed that the man accused in the automobile terror attack wore the same polo shirt as the man who kept walking by our synagogue; apparently it’s the uniform of a white supremacist group. Even now, that gives me a chill.
When services ended, my heart broke as I advised congregants that it would be safer to leave the temple through the back entrance rather than through the front, and to please go in groups.
This is 2017 in the United States of America.
Later that day, I arrived on the scene shortly after the car plowed into peaceful protesters. It was a horrific and bloody scene.
Soon, we learned that Nazi websites had posted a call to burn our synagogue. I sat with one of our rabbis and wondered whether we should go back to the temple to protect the building. What could I do if I were there? Fortunately, it was just talk – but we had already deemed such an attack within the realm of possibilities, taking the precautionary step of removing our Torahs, including a Holocaust scroll, from the premises.
Again: This is in America in 2017. 
At the end of the day, we felt we had no choice but to cancel a Havdalah service at a congregant’s home. It had been announced on a public Facebook page, and we were fearful that Nazi elements might be aware of the event. Again, we sought police protection – not a battalion of police, just a single officer – but we were told simply to cancel the event.
Local police faced an unprecedented problem that day, but make no mistake, Jews are a specific target of these groups, and despite nods of understanding from officials about our concerns – and despite the fact that the mayor himself is Jewish – we were left to our own devices. The fact that a calamity did not befall the Jewish community of Charlottesville on Saturday was not thanks to our politicians, our police, or even our own efforts, but to the grace of God.
And yet, in the midst of all that, other moments stand out for me, as well.
John Aguilar, a 30-year Navy veteran, took it upon himself to stand watch over the synagogue through services Friday evening and Saturday, along with our armed guard. He just felt he should.
We experienced wonderful turnout for services both Friday night and Saturday morning to observe Shabbat, including several non-Jews who said they came to show solidarity (though a number of congregants, particularly elderly ones, told me they were afraid to come to synagogue).                                                                                                                         
A frail, elderly woman approached me Saturday morning as I stood on the steps in front of our sanctuary, crying, to tell me that while she was Roman Catholic, she wanted to stay and watch over the synagogue with us. At one point, she asked, “Why do they hate you?” I had no answer to the question we’ve been asking ourselves for thousands of years.
At least a dozen complete strangers stopped by as we stood in front the synagogue Saturday to ask if we wanted them to stand with us.
And our wonderful rabbis stood on the front lines with other Charlottesville clergy, opposing hate.
Most attention now is, and for the foreseeable future will be, focused on the deaths and injuries that occurred, and that is as it should be. But for most people, before the week is out, Saturday’s events will degenerate into the all-to-familiar bickering that is part of the larger, ongoing political narrative. The media will move on — and all it will take is some new outrageous Trump tweet to change the subject.
We will get back to normal, also. We have two B'nai mitzvah coming up, and soon, Rosh HaShanah and Yom Kippur will be upon us, too.                                                                                                          
After the nation moves on, we will be left to pick up the pieces. Fortunately, this is a very strong and capable Jewish community, blessed to be led by incredible rabbis. We have committed lay leadership, and a congregation committed to Jewish values and our synagogue. In some ways, we will come out of it stronger – just as tempering metals make them tougher and harder.
Alan Zimmerman is the president of Congregation Beth Israel in Charlottesville, VA.

Saturday, July 1, 2017