HomeMy WebLinkAboutThe Citizen, 2005-06-16, Page 5THE CITIZEN, THURSDAY, JUNE 16, 2005. PAGE 5.
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Let’s call it
Of all the weird and twisted viruses that
can invade and infect the human
family, is there any more weird and
twisted than The Feud?
My dictionary defines the feud as ‘a state of
prolonged hostility or violence, especially
between two families or clans.’
Emphasis on ‘prolonged’.
The Hatfields and McCoys, two redneck
extended families who lived in the backwoods
of West Virginia, engaged in tit-for-tat murders
for over 30 years in the late 19th century.
Here in Canada, five members of the hated
Black Donnellys (the adjective refers to
character, not skin pigmentation) were beaten
to death by their otherwise docile southern
Ontario neighbours in 1880.
Not that feuds are exclusive to North
America. The Campbell clan of Scotland, in
an act of sublime treachery, wined and dined,
then stabbed and filleted a whole roomful of
unarmed MacDonalds in the massacre of
Glencoe.
As a distantly-related descendant of those
poor, trusting and overly-ventilated MacDs. I
still twitch involuntarily when forced to shake
the hand of a Campbell (especially if the first
name is Gordon). But perhaps I should try to
get over it. After all. the Glencoe Massacre
happened in 1692.
But even that 17th century Scottish
shiskabob is pretty small potatoes compared to
what goes on, feud-wise, in the rest of the
world. In large swathes of China, India,
Pakistan and Southeast Asia, blood wars and
vendettas are practically a way of life.
Nowhere more so than in Afghanistan where
warlords and religious nutbars have been
Watchdogs don’t just bark, they bite
Ontario’s watchdogs are showing they
can bark and bite when needed and
even proving to be man’s (and
woman’s) best friends.
Officials appointed by MPPs to raise alarms
when they see what they consider flaws in
government actions have taken on the
governing Liberals on two major issues
recently and provided input residents should
not be without.
Information and Privacy Commissioner Ann
Cavoukian has galvanized concerns, more
than any politician, over well-intended Liberal
legislation that would give those who have
been adopted and their birth parents access to
records through which they can identify and, if
both desire, resume contact with each other.
The legislation originally would have
enabled any who were located, but did not
wish to be contacted because it might upset
their lives, to register this on their files, and
anyone^who violated this to be fined.
Cavoukian, joined by many, suggested this
still might not deter some from attempting
contact and those wanting to maintain their
privacy, which they were promised, should
have an absolute veto over their records being
released.
The resourceful commissioner aired her
views before a legislature committee, sent
releases to news media, wrote to newspapers,
is quoted more than anyone on the subject and
has been more effective for her cause than a
couple of opposition party leaders combined.
The Liberals have offered a new safeguard.
Any who do not want information about
themselves disclosed should convince a
review board it would cause them significant
harm. But Cavoukian and others feel they
should not have to do this and the government
is musing over its next step.
The new Ombudsman. Andre Marin, has
started with a bang by revealing that parents of
feud for thought
seething and slaughtering compatriots, largely
on the basis of their family affiliations, for
centuries.
Still there is at least one small oasis of peace
and tranquility in the war-ravaged city of
Kabul these days. The vicious and long-
running Levin/Simintov feud is finally over.
It wasn’t the largest feud in Afghanistan
history. In fact, it only involved two people:
Zablon Simintov and Ishaq Levin. And if
you’re thinking there’s something oddly
Semitic about names like that in an
overwhelmingly Muslim country - you’re
right.
Simintov and Levin are Jewish names.
These guys were the last two Jews living in
Afghanistan. This, in a country that was home
to Jews for more than 800 years and once had
a population of 40.000 of them. By the time
the Taliban took over in the mid 1990s. there
was just Levin and Simintov.
And they hated each others guts.
The two men - one a clerk, the other a carpet
seller, lived in Kabul’s last surviving
synagogue - at opposite ends - and spent their
days hurling curses at one another and
planning various petty revenges. No one
knows for sure what set them against each
other, but their mutual loathing was absolute
Eric
Dowd
From
Queen’s Park
more than 100 severely-disabled children have
been forced to give up legal custody to obtain
costly treatment for their special needs.
This problem had its origins in the late
1990s, when Progressive Conservative
premier Mike Harris reduced funding and
parents found the only way to get treatment
was to place them in the custody of Children’s
Aid Societies.
The Ombudsman said the province has
oppressed families who are devoted, desperate
and often heroic, and called for immediate
remedy.
The Liberals promised quickly that children
will be treated without their parents having to
give up custody. One reason is politicians find
it more difficult to ignore a prestigious, non
partisan official.
Cavoukian has spoken out before. She called
on Liberal Premier Dalton McGuinty to
emphasize government has a responsibility to
disclose all information unless there is a clear
and compelling reason not to do so, which
must have jolted the Liberals, who are more
intent on tightening lips.
Cavoukian earlier irritated Harris by
complaining his government took too long to
answer requests for information and raised
fees so it deterred them.
She also rebuked Harris for giving
information on depositors in the provincial
savings office to a pollster, as part of a plan to
privatize it, and said this was a misuse of
and non-negotiable.
The Taliban arrested them both, threw them
in jail and tortured them. Levin was convinced
Simintov turned him in. Simintov was equally
sure that Levin had ratted him out.
This was a feud that could only be resolved
by death - and it was. On a frigid’morning this
past April, police discovered the half-frozen
body of Levin, aged 70, wrapped in a moth-
eaten blanket inside his ramshackle apartment
within the synagogue.
Was it murder? Had Simintov finally
exacted the ultimate vengeance?
Police thought so at first. They arrested
Simintov and charged him with murder. But an
autopsy of Levin’s body showed that he’d died
of natural causes.
Simintov won't be sending flowers.
“The old man was crazy,” he told reporters,
tapping a forefinger against his temple.
Now that his arch enemy is dead, Zablon
Simintov could cut himself some slack.
There’s nothing to keep him in Kabul. He lost
his carpet business years ago and he’s been
reduced to begging visitors for money,
whiskey and phone cards.
He could leave Afghanistan and join his
wife and daughters in Israel, where they’ve
been living for the past six years.
But he won’t. Ishaq Levin, his old enemy,
has a son. Simintov is afraid if he leaves,
Levin’s son will take over ownership of the
synagogue.
Milan Kundera, the Czech writer, once said
that the trouble with hatred is that “it traps us
by binding us too tightly to our adversary.”
Sounds like he’d met Zablon Simintov. Or
Ishaq Levin.
information.
These watchdogs are nominally independent
and answer to the legislature, but this usually
means the government of the day, if it has a
majority, and others have not survived as well.
Harris dumped Eva Ligeti, the province’s
first environmental commissioner, who was
appointed by a New Democrat government,
after she complained he cut environmental
staff and protection and increased dangers to
health.
Harris also let go Ombudsman Roberta
Jamieson, who had held the job under both
Liberals and New Democrats and complained
his was the worst for cutting staff and
weakening services.
When Cavoukian criticized Harris,
information also was leaked to news media she
had a romantic relationship with the head of a
company manufacturing technology used in
protecting privacy, which caused her
momentary embarrassment.
After Jamieson decried Harris, a story was
leaked she asked for $250,000 severance, but
it turned out she sought $90,000, normal for a
senior public servant with 10 years’ service.
Watchdogs also have to beware of
politicians, who can play rough.
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Bonnie
Gropp
The short of it
Punchinello anyone?
Like tiny white sparks, the stars speckle
the dark night sky, whilezbelow a
campfire crackles. Voices murmur in
conversation, the quiet regularly broken by an
explosion of laughtei
The group enjoying the pleasant summer
evening is one of family and friends,
comfortable in each other’s company. With one
exception they are adults, thus entertainment is
relaxed, the quiet telling of stories, the infusion
of jokes, the extra bonus of music. It is nice,
but nothing out of the ordinary.
And then our grandson, the only child
among us, as usual brings the magic. Over the
buzz of conversation a melody is heard. As the
lyrics begin to infiltrate we see to the side,
Mitchell and an adult friend in a rousing game
of Punchinello.
Now. if you’ve never played, this is a circle
game where one person is Punchinello and as
the others sing “What can you do, Punchinello.
Punchinello?” performs some kind of action,
such as hopping on one foot. Needless to say
two people just aren’t enough to make it
worthwhile and before we knew it our
grandson, whose best action has always been
wrapping us all around his little finger, had the
whole bunch involved.
And let me tell you the bigger the number of
people playing, the harder it is to come up with
something different to do. There were some
pretty creative moves from folks not all that
accustomed to much exertion or to using their
imagination.
We laughed, long ar.d often. If you wonder
why, imagine a group of rather goofy
grownups, gyrating, spinning and singing. It’s
certainly not a picture you would ever sec had
not there been a five-year-old directing this
vignette.
Which may be too bad Kind of sad that it
often takes a little one to help us rediscover the
child in ourselves. With Mitchei1, I can dig a
hole in the sand, or play with a water hose. In
showing him the fuzz of a caterpillar I pay
attention again. Watching a bird or just sitting
and looking at the stars take on a newness
when seen through the eyes of a child.
When Mitchell visits, it’s okay again for us
to throw baseballs or snowballs, depending on
the season. We can build sand castles or snow
forts. His presence not only gives us
permission to do something childish, but
demands it.
I have a recent picture in my mind of Mark
and Mitchell sitting together in a field of grass,
making some adjustments to a kite they’d been
flying. It hadn’t been the kind of magic they
had anticipated; the kite was not co-operating;
but it was a nice image. The picture I see was
not of a middle-aged man and a tyke, but of
two boys, enjoying a moment of simplicity.
It’s the kind of moment Mark would feel
guilty, or even silly, about taking for himself,
but with grandson in tow it was perfect.
Parents of little ones don’t often have the
opportunities to forget how to be a child. Their
kids are there every day to remind them. And
when they aren’t, they generally take
advantage of the freedom and let loose on their
own.
But as children grow up, and eventually
move away, it seems easy to lose the child in
us. If you have I might suggest trying to find
it again. This is the perfect time of year for
rediscovery, but also for a little immaturity.
And might I suggest starting with a rousing
game of Punchinello?