Editorial: Justice for Racialized Communities: We All Have Skin in this Game

Aug. 20, 2020 – For a time, we really did feel that things were changing. With the tragic murder of George Floyd, many rose from their complacency to demand change. Indeed, these times have been reminiscent of the heady civil rights era in which Martin Luther King, Rabbi Abraham Heschel and other faith leaders, Black and white, Jews and Christians (other faiths weren’t comfortable with the high visibility at the time) who peacefully but passionately spoke out against racism and discrimination. Reminiscent, but not quite the same.

The civil rights era of the 1960s led at first to a momentous change in the body politic of the United States: The Civil Rights Act signed into law by then President Lyndon Johnson in 1964.

A crowning achievement, it was intended to outlaw discrimination based on race, colour, religion, sex, or national origin. It did not, of course. Words on paper are just words if they are not followed by concrete and meaningful action. Words blur, hate is muscular. Words are simply not enough without boldness of action.

Here in Canada, we like to believe we are better. We told ourselves we didn’t require a Civil Rights Act to understand the evil of bigotry. We fooled ourselves into believing that we held the moral high ground.

Among the evidence to the contrary were Ontario’s so-called restrictive covenants, which prohibited the sale of land to Jews and Blacks.

In one of the better-known examples in the post-war era, a labour organization, the Workers’ Educational Association of Canada (WEA), purchased property on O’Connor Drive to build “ideal” homes for working families and soldiers returning home. The WEA soon discovered the deed prevented the land from being sold to Jews “or persons of objectionable nationality.”

That led, in 1945, to an arrangement between the WEA and the Canadian Jewish Congress. Then WEA director Drummond Wren teamed with CJC’s legal committee chair, Bora Laskin, (later to become the first Jewish Chief Justice of Canada) and other lawyers representing the complainants. Together, their argument succeeded. Justice J. Keiller MacKay of the Supreme Court of Ontario, later an Ontario Lieutenant Governor, struck the offensive legislation from provincial law, declaring it “injurious to the public good.” Stated MacKay in his impassioned ruling:

“Canada is pledged to promote universal respect for and observance of, human rights and fundamental freedoms for all without discrimination as to race, sex, language or religion…”

Justice J. Keiller MacKay

But that didn’t spell the end of bigotry. Appeals and counter-appeals wound up before the Ontario Court of Appeal, which, in a contemptible decision in 1949, sidestepped MacKay’s ruling and claimed that barring those of Jewish, “Negro or coloured race or blood” was only to make sure those owning land were of “a class who will get along together.” There was nothing “criminal or unusual” about any of this, the court assured.

It wasn’t until 1950 that Ontario banned the covenants in a bill that saw unanimous support. “There is no place in Ontario’s way of life for restrictive covenants,” pronounced then Ontario Premier Leslie Frost. Later that year, the Supreme Court of Canada struck down all forms of racial and faith-based restrictive land covenants as invalid.

Flash forward to today. While no barriers by race appear in law, bigotry and systemic racism still exist. This week, the Ontario Human Rights Commission (which arose from the battles undertaken by the WEA and CJC) identified, through its Human Rights Tribunals, that systemic racism continues unchecked, causing much harm.

As noted by Ena Chadha, the new Chief Commissioner of the Ontario Human Rights Commission: This past March, a six-year-old Black girl was racially discriminated against when police restrained and handcuffed her at school.

And: In 2018, Black youths had to prepay their meals at a Toronto restaurant.

These are but two examples of systemic racism which were thankfully dealt with under human rights law. But racism continues unabated. This is not a time to take our eyes off the ball. Much work remains to be done. Justice for racialized communities does matter. We all have skin in this game.

Local Clergy Recall Historic Selma Marches

July 30, 2020 – By STEVE ARNOLD

HAMILTON – In 1965, the world was shocked by television images of American police beating peaceful Black protesters who dared to march in Alabama for the right to be treated as equals.

In far-away Hamilton, Ont., a young rabbi watched those images and, in his heart, heard the voices of ancient sages calling for action.

Rabbi Eugene Weiner (second from right) marching in Selma. (Photo courtesy Wendy Schneider)

Heeding that call, Rabbi Eugene Weiner, then just 32, quickly organized a small group of other Hamilton clergy and flew to Selma, Alabama, where they linked arms with civil rights legends Martin Luther King Jr.; John Lewis; Rabbi Weiner’s former teacher, Rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel; and thousands of others to march for an end to American racism and bigotry.

The historic mission was recalled Sunday by members of Weiner’s former shul, Beth Jacob Synagogue of Hamilton. The commemoration occurred as another hero of the events, John Lewis, who served in the U.S. House of Representatives for 33 years, was taken through Selma one last time on his way to be buried.

As well as the ancient teachings of his faith, Rabbi Weiner was responding to a call directly from King for religious leaders of all faiths to come to Selma.

In an interview with the Globe and Mail after his return, Rabbi Weiner said he put himself at risk to advance the cause of social justice.

“I personally feel that the church and the synagogue have been very remiss in their response to deal with the outstanding social issues,” he was quoted as saying. “I agree with Dr. King that (the faith community) tends to be an echo rather than a voice and a taillight rather than a headlight.”

In addition to Rabbi Weiner, the Hamilton delegation included two Anglican priests, and a United Church and a Baptist minister. They were joined in Alabama by two Unitarian ministers and the pastor of a Hamilton church founded in 1835 by escaped slaves and slaves who had been freed.

Costs of the five from Hamilton were covered, quietly, by Jewish businessman Ken Soble, founder of Hamilton’s CHCH-TV.

Baptist minister Alan Matthews was part of the group. On Sunday his daughter-in-law, Ramona, recalled how he joined the trip on a single day’s notice because, like Rabbi Weiner, he thought the cause was right.

Matthews had just returned from a four-day trip visiting convicts at Kingston Penitentiary, but a phone call from the rabbi put him on an airplane the next day.

“They all believed that telegrams and marches in Toronto were no longer enough,” Ramona recalled. “They went to proclaim what they thought was justice.”

The Selma events were actually three marches intended to carry the call for voting rights to the Alabama capital of Montgomery. The first, on March 7, 1965, became known as Bloody Sunday because of the savage response of state police as marchers attempted to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge over the Alabama River.

Rabbi Eugene Weiner, left, with Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. in Selma, Alabama. (Photo courtesy Wendy Schneider)

It was television images of police brutally attacking peaceful protestors that ignited public indignation and increased support for the marchers.

Matthews wrote of the events years later “I never saw such hatred.”

A second march on March 9 turned back after King saw the array of police waiting for them on the other side of the bridge. The third, on March 21 – after the Hamilton delegation had returned home – got to the state capital after four days, but only with the protection of National Guard troops under federal orders.

In the face of the violence directed at marchers, King’s instructions were, that if attacked, they were fall face down and cover their heads with their hands.

“You are here to witness, not be abusive or to fight. Do not run away from the scene. You will feel and see hate – show love…do not retaliate. Peace, love will win.”

Rabbi Weiner and his fellow Hamilton clergymen arrived in Selma March 14 and on their second day, the rabbi stood in the pulpit of a local church at a memorial service for James Reeb, a Unitarian minister who had been killed after the second march.

As the rabbi intoned the sacred words of the Mourner’s Kaddish, hundreds of congregants hummed We Shall Overcome. One witness to that event recalled how, as Rabbi Weiner finished the prayer, “from nowhere there came two little Negro girls who began to sing a high piercing descant above our singing. The rabbi leaned down, picked up the four-year-old, and held her in his arms. And the tears flowed down my face. And all around him, people were crying.”

Rabbi Weiner left Beth Jacob in 1969, moving with his family to Israel where he enjoyed a distinguished academic career as professor of sociology at Haifa University. He died in 2003 of cancer at age 69.

In 1965 Hamilton Rabbi Eugene Weiner organized a small group of local clergy to fly to Selma, Alabama, to join civil rights protests over the denial of voting rights for Black citizens. (Photo courtesy Beth Jacob Synagogue)

Today, 55 years later, the causes for which those tears flowed remain, shown daily in the wave of Black Lives Matter protests across the United States and in the calls for economic justice around the world among others.

That sentiment was captured by one of Sunday’s participants. Michaele-Sue Goldblatt, who grew up at Beth Jacob. She recalled one recent protest she attended in Barrie, where the sign she carried asked plaintively “I did this in the ‘60s. Why am I still doing it?”

Lyla Miklos, a Hamilton-based activist who joined other marchers in 2015 to mark the half-century anniversary of the Selma protests, said every generation seems to have an incident that sparks anger and protests.

For her, it was images of Rodney King being brutally beaten by police officers in Los Angeles in 1991. For many today it is the image of George Floyd dying under the crushing weight of a police officer in Minneapolis earlier this year.

“Today it seems we are being bombarded by images of police brutality,” she said.

For Rabbi Hillel Lavery-Yisraeli, the current occupant of the Beth Jacob pulpit, the demand for spiritual leaders to take action on injustice is also unchanged.

“We have to do what we can” he said. “We cannot remain silent when we can speak up. “We must protest what we can protest. We must use our voices and voting power and our money.”