Abraham's children chat
Over bagels and samosas, the Canadian Association
of Jews and Muslims seeks common ground
The group strives to improve relations
Amicable small talk. Queries about work, kids,
vacations. More chit-chat. Laughter. And food. Plenty
of food. Middle East delicacies like hummus and baba
ghanouj are sampled with spicy samosas and mounds of
bagels. Food works. It's the great connector.
The bonhomie is undeniable and the lack of tension
discernible among the 17 Muslims and Jews who gather
this night at a Toronto Reform synagogue for one of
their monthly meetings aimed at exploring each other's
faith and finding common ground in their little corner
of this overheated planet.
It's not a forced cordiality. Voices are sincere,
well-modulated. Even the occasional joke is thrown in.
Coming to blows, even verbal ones, is unthinkable.
Small steps for the children of Abraham, yet big
ones at the same time.
No one on this night at least brings up terrorism,
or Israel and the Palestinian conflict, although that
has a presence of its own (referred to internally as
"the elephant in the room.") And no one mentions the
Qur'- an's vexing approach to Jews — describing
them in strongly disparaging terms one minute and
extolling them as fellow believers the next — or
that the holy text forbids Muslims from befriending
Jews ( and Christians, too).
While those and other sticking points aren't swept
under the rug, they aren't dwelled on either. Rather,
the Canadian Association of Jews and Muslims acts on
the maxim "think globally, act locally." It focuses on
improving relations between the two groups here in
Toronto, home to about 350,000 Muslims and 175,000
Jews, by first establishing mutual trust and a comfort
level, and then learning about each other's religions,
rituals and place in the world. The two sides also plan
to join forces on domestic issues.
For example, in August, the group wrote to Prime
Minister Jean Chrétien protesting the detention
of 19 Pakistani Muslim Canadians on suspicion they
might pose a threat to national security.
"We're trying to build bridges of understanding so
that even if you disagree vehemently, you'll still see
the other person as a person," explains the group's
Jewish co-chair, Barbara Landau, a psychologist and
mediator who specializes in conflict resolution.
"The idea is to listen as though the other person
might be right."
The dialogue was founded in 1996 by two colleagues
in Ontario's civil service, Jack Stevens, an Iraqi Jew,
and Shahid Akhtar, a Pakistani Muslim.
"We noticed there was interaction between Christians
and Jews, and there were multifaith groups, but nothing
between Muslims and Jews," says Akhtar.
It lay dormant for a while, but the Sept. 11, 2001,
terrorist attacks rekindled the effort, this time as an
attempt to defuse the anti-Muslim backlash. Just three
days after the attacks, the group read a joint message
at a Toronto City Hall rally affirming the ideals
uniting them as Canadians, including valuing human
life, mutual respect and co-existence.
There's no official membership. About 100 regulars
are on the roster, evenly divided between Jews and
Muslims, the latter comprising both Sunnis and Shi'as
mainly from Pakistan, India and East Africa. There are
very few Arabs, and no Palestinians.
"That's not deliberate," insists Landau, who helps
run a separate Jewish-Palestinian dialogue.
"We are here to learn about each other as well as
from each other," pronounces Akhtar this night in the
boardroom of Temple Emanu-El, before introducing
the guest speaker, Parveen Ali, a London, England-based
lawyer and academic who talks about the role of women
in Islam. She begins with the traditional Muslim
greeting "Salaam Alekum," meaning peace be unto you
— the same as the Hebrew "Shalom Alecheim."
The floor is then turned over to Rabbi Edward Elkin,
spiritual leader of Toronto's First
Narayever Congregation, who expounds on the role of
women in Judaism.
Participants nod at the similarities and agree that
in the broad spectrum of both religions, cases can be
made for women's full equality as well as for their
status as second-class citizens.
"The more orthodox you get, the less legitimate
everything else is," observes Landau.
The group has hosted an interfaith Passover seder
and a Rosh Hashanah dinner, and is planning a joint
Ramadan-Chanukah celebration.
The interaction isn't limited to exploring each
others' religious traditions. There have been a number
of joint initiatives:
The Canadian Jewish Congress supported
Muslims on two occasions when municipal officials,
citing zoning laws, tried to stop construction of
mosques in East York and Mississauga. Both projects
were eventually given the green light.
Earlier this year, Canada's Pakistani community
created a journalism scholarship in memory
of Daniel Pearl, the Jewish reporter for the Wall
Street Journal beheaded by Muslim extremists in
Pakistan last year.
The Islamic Society of North America
(Canada) joined the Jewish congress in supporting
the provincial government's controversial tax credit
for parents of children in faith-based schools.
In February, Canadian Jewish Congress and the Islamic Council of Imams-Canada
called on the federal government to exempt ritual
slaughter of meats from proposed animal-cruelty
legislation.
And in 2001 Canadian Muslims
and Jews came together to urge Ottawa to deny public
funding to a group that sought to outlaw the
circumcision of baby boys.
A Jewish-Islamic study circle sponsored jointly by
the University of Toronto and Beth
Tzedec Congregation is in its second year.
But what about the really heavy lifting: Israel, the
status of Jerusalem, racial profiling, terrorism in the
name of Islam, even whether to allow the Arab TV
network Al-Jazeera into Canada?
"Of course it comes up," says Akhtar. "It comes up
all the time. We make it a point to talk about the
difficult questions. But when we do, we do it in a most
respectful manner, in a way we assume the other person
could be right," he says, adding, with a chuckle, "We
never come to blows."
Landau says her expertise in conflict resolution
comes in handy.
"People who aren't listened to, escalate. When they
are listened to, the rage dissipates. And when their
stereotypical expectations aren't met, they move to
curiosity.
"There's an old Jewish saying: `God gave us two ears
and one mouth.' We should listen twice as much as we
should speak," she says.
But relations are sometimes strained.
The Jewish congress was dismayed when, in 2001, the
Islamic congress gave a "media excellence award" to a
local newspaper that supports Hamas and Hezbollah.
"We would welcome greater public acknowledgment
(from Canadian Muslims) that terrorism is a real and
present danger," says the Jewish congress' Manuel
Prutschi, citing the two communities' divergent views
on federal anti-terrorism legislation and racial
profiling.
Another sore point is anti-Semitism. Jewish
officials say that in Canada today, it emanates mainly
from Muslim circles.
"We will pursue good and better relations with the
Muslim community," says Prutschi, "but we won't
hesitate to expose and fight anti-Semitism."
Farzana Hassan Shahid, a Muslim from Pakistan who's
been in Canada 19 years, was moved to the join the
dialogue because she saw something welcoming among
Jews.
"They appreciate the sanctity of life," says Shahid,
who's president of the Ontario chapter of Muslims
Against Terrorism, founded in Calgary in 1999.
"They're very sincere in their efforts to promote peace
and understanding. We need those in our community who
are not convinced to see that."
For local interfaith activist Fredelle Brief, the
dialogue comes down to "the issue of democracy in a
time of terror. If we take away the civil rights of
some, we take them away for all. And that's not
something that's on the public's agenda."
Ron Csillag is a Toronto writer
specializing in religion. He can be reached at
csillag@rogers.com.
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