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Race Traitor – the media library

Posted by E on November 3, 2014

Hategan article

Hey guys,

after twenty years of telling people what happened in our own country, I’m tired of the BS I occasionally encounter from people who are so shocked by my story that they would rather deny it happened instead of doing due diligence and actually researching what is freely in the public domain. See how the denial haunts me to this day and parallels my experience as a victim of sexual assault: http://incognitopress.wordpress.com/2014/10/30/i-know-what-its-like-not-to-be-believed/

Yeah, I know that the info is out there, but in this day of anonymous derogatory quips and an attention span that makes a fruit fly’s seem genius, I doubt the naysayers will actually take the time to investigate the facts and realize that everything I wrote in my book Race Traitor: The True Story of Canadian Intelligence’s Greatest Cover-up is rooted in hard, undeniable fact.

The denial ends today.

You will also find this list in the References section of my book. Please note that this is by no means a comprehensive list of resources, but it should suffice to convince even the most ardent nay-sayer that all this actually took place in a free and democratic country.

I have quite a few affidavits made public in 1993 that I can provide upon request to anyone who is interested in further documentation of what is without a doubt one of the most ruthless and insidious, yet well-documented cases of an intelligence agent gone rogue.

Not included in this list is a transcript of my testimony against three notorious leaders of the Heritage Front, a testimony which resulted in convictions and prison sentences. Also not included (though mentioned in the articles below) is a transcript of my testimony in the House of Commons on Parliament Hill in 1994, where I spoke to a Senate Subcommittee on National Defence about the illegal actions of CSIS agent and group co-founder Grant Bristow – actions that I witnessed first-hand while being a teenager inside the domestic terrorist group that was the Heritage Front.

If interested in further research, there are also quite a number of articles in the press regarding the shocking treatment received by Brian MacInnis, a Parliamentary aide who leaked a secret CSIS report to the prime minister detailing the controversial actions of a spy gone rogue. For his effort to expose the cover-up, (this was in the days before the Julian Assanges and Edward Snowdens of the world made leaking documents cool) MacInnis was charged under Canada’s insidious Official Secrets Act and his career was permanently ruined.

Furthermore, there is extensive coverage of the more-RECENT (as in 2010!) illegal actions of Bristow’s new persona, “Nathan Black” in targeting the Jewish former mayor of Edmonton Stephen Mendel for harassment using his old spy tricks. I’ve compiled some of those articles in this post: http://incognitopress.wordpress.com/2011/11/17/old-habits-die-hard-the-dubious-adventures-of-grant-bristow-or-how-csis-taught-me-everything-i-know-about-phone-hacking/

 

VIDEOS

CBC, The Fifth Estate, October 4, 1994.

Excerpt from the Toronto Star, October 5, 1994, describing the content:

The government-appointed CSIS watchdog, called the Security Intelligence Review Committee, wrote a top-secret 1992 report to Mr. Gray’s Conservative predecessor, Douglas Lewis, warning that Mr. Bristow was involved in ‘unlawful activities’ that could ‘generate controversy.’”

“CSIS is scared Grant will blow his lid,” one police source tells The Fifth Estate.

“What they’re scared of is Grant’s going to say: ‘Yeah, we desecrated Jewish synagogues. We threatened people’s lives. We were throwing rocks through windows and we were manufacturing (violent) incidents and we were doing all of this on the instructions of CSIS’.”

The program says CSIS not only did nothing to prevent these incidents but allowed Bristow’s handler, whom it identified as Al Treddenick, to get Bristow out of trouble with police on several occasions.

It says Treddenick is a former officer of the discredited RCMP security service, disbanded in the early 1980s after it was found to have committed illegal acts against Quebec separatists and other domestic dissidents in the 1970s and 1980s. CSIS was created to replace the RCMP security service.”

FIFTH ESTATE QUOTE: “When Elisse came out and said she was going to tell the truth, CSIS was saying they were going to get out and discredit her because at least Hategan was pointing the finger at Grant Bristow… we’ll tear her to shreds”.

White Pine Pictures, “Hearts Of Hate: The Battle For Young Minds”. Peter Raymont, 1995.

It’s About Time, VISION TV. “Racism, Sexism and Belonging.” Sadia Zaman, 1994.

 

ARTICLES

Dunphy, Bill. ” STIR IT UP. Spy Unmasked: CSIS Informant ‘Founding Father’ of white racist group,” Toronto Sun, 14 Aug. 1994.

Dunphy, Bill. “Turncoat spied on racist group,” Toronto Sun, 16 March 1994.

Dunphy, Bill. “Ex-racist’s despair,” Toronto Sun, 17 March 1994.

Dunphy, Bill. “We’ll Squash ‘Em! Manning fears plot behind racist infiltration of the Reform Party”, Toronto Sun, Feb. 29, 1992

Dunphy, Bill. “Reformers boot out ‘infiltrators'”, Toronto Sun, March 11, 1992

Dunphy, Bill. “Top racist in welfare scam,” Toronto Sun, Nov. 29, 1992.

Dunphy, Bill. “White rights groups readying for racial war.” Toronto Sun, 1992-11-29. Includes description of HF leader Grant ‘Briston’

Dunphy, Bill. “Canada’s Neo-Nazis”, Toronto Sunday Sun, November 29, 1992 Includes description of HF leader Grant ‘Briston’

Swanson, Gail. “Fire guts rights activist’s house”. Toronto Star, 92-11-09. involving arson of Jewish community leader’s home

Deverell, John. “Metro constable facing charges”. Toronto Star, December 17, 1993. involving metro Toronto cop member of HF

Mascoll, Philip. “Public mischief charge dropped”, Toronto Star, March 8, 1994 – involving an HF sexual assault on a black woman

Platiel, Rudy. “Front played dirty, court told.” Globe and Mail, 17 March 1994.

Platiel, Rudy. “Front tried to thwart agency, court told,” Globe and Mail, 16 March 1994.

Oakes, Gary “Woman’s hate-crime charges withdrawn,” Toronto Star, 24 Jun 1994.

Salot, Jeff, Henry Hess. “Memo leaker questions CSIS conduct,” Globe and Mail, 27 Aug. 1994.

Swainson, Gail. “Elite soldiers members of racist group, leader says,” Toronto Star, 6 May 1993.

Speirs, Rosemary, David Vienneau, “Commons panel to probe CSIS,” Toronto Star, 25 Aug. 1994.

Speirs, Rosemary. “CSIS told to ‘clear its name’ publicly,” Toronto Star, 24 Aug. 1994.

Speirs, Rosemary, David Vienneau. “Who’s watching whom?,” Toronto Star, 27 Aug. 1994.

Vienneau, David. “Spy agency kept watch on CBC,” Toronto Star, 19 Aug. 1994.

Vienneau, David, Rosemary Speirs, and Shawn McCarthy. Ex-aide admits leaking spy note,” Toronto Star, 26 Aug. 1994.

Cal Millar and Dale Brazao, Parliament set to probe secret actions of CSIS spy Committee to see if Grant Bristow was a spy or racist. Toronto Star, September 12, 1994.

Derek Ferguson, “Report ‘whitewash’ of spy agency mole. Toronto Star, June 14, 1995

Toronto Sun, October 1995 MPs rip Bristow spying scandal: CSIS broke the law, leaked report says”

Clayton Ruby, Fighting racism going out of fashion. Toronto Star, December 13, 1995

Toronto Star, September 10, 1994. “Exclusive: CSIS spy snapped in Libya: Portrait of the vanishing spy: Grant Bristow was a man with great contacts and plenty of money to spend.”

Dale Brazao, “Star finds Grant Bristow”, Toronto Star, Apr 20, 1995.

 

BLOGS

Anti-Racist Canada Collective, A History of Violence, 1989-2011.

http://anti-racistcanada.blogspot.ca/2011/10/history-of-violence-1989-2011.html

Elisa Hategan, Incognito Press. Old Habits Die Hard

http://incognitopress.wordpress.com/2011/11/17/old-habits-die-hard-the-dubious-adventures-of-grant-bristow-or-how-csis-taught-me-everything-i-know-about-phone-hacking/

Grant Bristow’s hit list of people to be targeted for stalking and harassment:

hit list grant bristow

Posted in activism, canada, cbc, csis, history, media, news, ontario, politics, press, racism, truth, writer, writing | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

I Know What It’s Like Not To Be Believed

Posted by E on October 30, 2014

woman-gagged

In light of the Jian Ghomeshi sex scandal and the burgeoning public epiphany that sometimes women don’t speak of abuse not because they’re not truthful, but because they fear ridicule, public mockery, further abuse and being disbelieved in the court of public opinion (as well as actual courts), I must write this.

Over the last six months I put aside my blog and focused on generating media interest in my book, which is based on my experiences as a teenage girl inside a domestic terrorist group spear-headed by a CSIS (Canadian Intelligence and Security Service) agent, Grant Bristow.

After releasing my book at the end of March, there was a flurry of interest, but none from traditional media outlets. I quickly discovered that if you are not published by a large press, i.e. Random House or Penguin (who I walked away from back in 2011 for various reasons), nobody will believe you.

My experiences cruelly paralleled what happened to me back in 1993 – upon a secret mandate issued by CSIS to all provincial police forces to dismiss all my signed affidavits and eyewitness evidence (discussed in a 1993 episode of The Fifth Estate), I was denied entry into the RCMP Witness Protection program and forced to go on the run for my life.

It didn’t matter then that everybody knew a CSIS agent had gone rogue and established the violent paramilitary white supremacist group you might remember as the Heritage Front.

It didn’t matter that Brian McInnis, a cabinet aide to the Attorney General who leaked an internal confidential CSIS report about said rogue agent, was dismissed from his job and charged under Canada’s insidious Official Secrets Act.

It didn’t matter that assaults, hate-mongering and even two particularly vicious sexual assaults had been connected to the Heritage Front (and many believe, to the leadership).

It didn’t matter that said rogue agent encouraged others to join the conservative Reform Party (and served as bodyguard at Reform conventions), thereby leading to the destruction of this political party when the Toronto Sun broke that violent HF members were encouraged to join Preston Manning’s Reform party as a way to sway them to the far right.

No investigation was to take place.

The rogue agent would be cleared – because to clear him was to ensure CSIS’s good name, along with the name of the agent’s handler, one connected to the RCMP intelligence unit that preceded the inception of CSIS – the same RCMP unit responsible for dirty tricks against the FLQ that included breaking into offices and blowing up barns under the guise of being “French separatists”.

It didn’t matter that neo-Nazis with criminal histories were taught by this CSIS agent how to stalk and gather information against political opponents, how to harass and threaten them over the telephone and even in person with impunity, while at the same time gathering a seemingly-endless cache of weapons to be used in what they believed was an impending Race War.

It didn’t matter that my credibility on the witness stand had already been established after my testimony was crucial to the convictions of three prominent Heritage Front leaders back in 1993.

In the end, I was just an impoverished, homeless abused eighteen-year old girl and they….well, they were CSIS.

I was a nobody, and Grant Bristow was deemed enough of a hero to receive a standing ovation at a Toronto synagogue after an event hosted by the Canadian Jewish Congress – albeit they were among the same people who were targeted for attacks by violent skinheads and neo-Nazis who looked up to Grant Bristow, who worshipped him as their hero.

Although I was a lesbian, although my father was Jewish, although I sent three neo-Nazis to prison, I was not credible enough for ANY police division in Canada to open an investigation.

I was worthless.

I was a nobody.

Scores of weapons ranging from automatic rifles to M16s are still on the street because nobody bothered to sign off on a warrant to raid premises that stored illegal weapons intended for future terrorist actions.

But here we are, exactly twenty years later, and I have a book in my hands that details everything I saw and accounted for in my affidavits.

I thought the media were my friends. Upon the advice of my former lawyer Paul Copeland, I contacted various prominent members of the media, including Linden MacIntyre (before his retirement) – who I presume didn’t think much of my heartfelt plea to discuss the events I had witnessed, because he didn’t grace me with a single acknowledgement message.

I sent a message to a woman who had filmed a documentary about me for It’s About Time, a Vision TV program where she had worked before she climbed up the media ladder and eventually became DIRECTOR OF PROGRAMMING AT THE CBC. She had been one of the few people concerned about me, back in the day. Or so I thought, because of the care she took during my interview in the 1990s. Then again, back then she was a hungry, inquisitive recent film school grad with a vested interest in doing the right thing, not Director of Programming at the CBC. She hadn’t rubbed elbows with the elites yet, she hadn’t had a taste of what Canadian media is really like.

She assured me that she would send my manuscript and story throughout the ranks of the CBC – Canada’s taxpayer-funded Broadcasting Corporation. Surely someone there might be interested in speaking with me, even for a mere sound bite, in light of all the controversial CSIS operations in the Muslim community (where people with questionable guilt and motives are pushed into illegal actions by people who cannot, in good conscience, be described by any words other than agent provocateurs).

NOBODY bothered to contact me again.

FINALLY, I heard from a journalist at the Globe & Mail who is very familiar with political columns and often writes articles about the over-reaching grasp of our country’s shadowy intelligence agency.

We met for coffee in the Annex and had a conversation which lasted over an hour. He was interested, even flabbergasted, by what I had seen. And then came the punchline – when he asked me if the book was self-published. When I told him it was, it was clear that his mood had shifted.

Somehow, by the sheer fact that someone like Random House wasn’t behind me, he was never going to cover the story. In fact, it seemed like he lost interest and questioned whether what I had told him was in fact, factual.

I am used to being disbelieved by the police, but it was a first – to encounter this from people who are entrusted with impartiality.

It was in that moment when I experienced a visceral sense of deja-vu – the sensation of feeling like no matter what I said, or did, that nobody would believe me. That I was worthless. That I was a whore who was doing this for attention.

I felt dirty. I felt ashamed. I felt exactly as I did when Wolfgang Droege, leader of the Heritage Front and best buddy of Grant Bristow, hit on me when I was sixteen, and when a knife was held up to my neck and I was threatened with death on suspicions of turning against them.

Yes, I know what it’s like to be treated like a rape victim. I know what rape feels like, and I know what it’s like to be alone in the world, to feel ashamed and dirty when everybody around you prefers to look the other way.

Back in the 1990s, I possessed enough information to send at least ten Heritage Front and Northern Hammerskins individuals to jail. Probably more, but it hurts too much to start thinking about all the What Ifs. Aside from learning how to hack into telephone systems and how to push people to the brink of suicide, I was taught another important lesson by CSIS – that the weight of truth depends on the perceived worth of those who speak it.

To the OPP and RCMP officers who had been advised by CSIS to disregard my statements, the intrinsic value of my evidence was judged by my worth as a human being – and as an abused, impoverished teenage girl with no education, family or powerful clique of good old CSIS boys to back me up, what I had to say meant absolutely nothing.

Thanks to Canada’s Security and Intelligence Service, millions of dollars were sank into ugly, bottomless pit that was Operation Governor. Falsehoods were spun to assert that Bristow had somehow “prevented” crime from happening, though the fabrications included in the SIRC Report tell us just how much their words are worth. And when I brought real, concrete evidence forth to prosecute dangerous individuals, they buried it.

And yet somehow, being that it is 2014 and I am a university-graduate and professional writer, I never expected this treatment from the supposedly-liberal, “bleeding-hearted” media. From journalists who work for the CBC and Globe & Mail. From people who are not supposed to make you feel like garbage for TELLING THE TRUTH.

But then I think, they too must be scared. Scared to offend, to push the wrong buttons, to stick up for someone who was victimized.

Not when the men in question are powerful. Not when the victim is a teenager, a piece of trash. Not when our government has bought an agent’s silence with a quarter million dollars.

And not when a book is self-published.

 

For further research, I have an extensive media library and traditional press documentation available to anyone interested in what really happened in Canada during the early 1990s: http://incognitopress.wordpress.com/2014/11/03/race-traitor-reference-media-library/ 

Posted in abuse, canada, cbc, crime, csis, globe & mail, jewish, racism, rape, terrorism, truth, victim | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

CSIS agent Grant Bristow’s hit list

Posted by E on April 2, 2014

We live in an age where a sexist note about female pilots written by an idiot generates enough outrage to make international news. But the actions of CSIS (Canadian Security and Intelligence Agency) agent Grant Bristow, who co-founded and led the white supremacist Heritage Front back in the 1990s, have long been forgotten.

I could write about how heart-wrenching it was for me, at only eighteen years of age, to be denied police protection after I testified against dangerous white supremacists. How frightening it was to discover that the group that had recruited me as a teenager had been founded and partially-bankrolled by Canada’s own spy agency – an agency whose overseer budget has been eliminated back in 2012. An agency that is now spying on innocent activists and groups like Idle No More under the pretext of protecting our freedoms.

I could write about the profound betrayal I felt to know that dozens of my affidavits involving Heritage Front criminal activity and illegal weapons were dismissed in a concerted effort to protect a man whose job was to  torment and criminally harass people, to incite and fuel the fires of hatred. A man who ended up being rewarded by CSIS with a four-bedroom house, two cars, unlimited long-distance phone calls and $3000 per month for several years afterwards. Despite NEVER contributing to a single political extremist’s arrest and conviction.

But why do that, when I can show you?

The Hit List: These hand-written addresses and name/phone numbers of community activists were given to me by CSIS agent Grant Bristow, who also distributed them within the white supremacist Heritage Front in an effort to incite harassment and attacks. He was never prosecuted for inciting criminal activity against innocent Canadians, and CSIS packaged him off with hundreds of thousands of taxpayer dollars.

How much do you want to bet THIS doesn’t make national news?

hit list bristow

Posted in canada, freedom, news, politics, racism | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

RACE TRAITOR: The True Story of CSIS’ Greatest Cover-up – Official Press Release

Posted by E on March 28, 2014

Image

Available in e-book format only at Kobo and Amazon.

RACE TRAITOR:The True Story of Canadian Intelligence Service’s Greatest Cover-Up is the visceral true story of a teenage girl who becomes entangled in Canada’s most powerful white supremacist group, the Heritage Front – a domestic terrorist group later revealed to have been created and funded with the assistance of Canada’s spy agency, Canadian Security and Intelligence Service (CSIS).

To sixteen-year old runaway Elisse, the new friends she encounters in the secretive Heritage Front are the family she’s never had. They feed her when she’s hungry, watch her back, and Wolfgang Droege, one of the group’s charismatic leaders, introduces her to a trusted friend, notorious Holocaust denier Ernst Zundel, who provides her with shelter and work.

In less than a year, Elisse evolves into an extremist groomed for a leadership role in the far-right movement. Her loyalty earns her the attention and tutelage of Grant Bristow, co-founder of the Heritage Front, who is training a secret faction of skinheads and neo-Nazis in information-gathering and terror tactics targeting political opponents. Rapidly drawn into their web of hatred, Elisse witnesses an escalating campaign of terror from which there seems no way out.

Forced to confront her sexual orientation and secret heritage, Elisse realizes that she must fight back. But when she attempts to shut down the vicious organization that had brainwashed her and terrorized innocent Canadians, she learns that a darker force is behind the façade of the Heritage Front: Canada’s own spy agency, backed by the government that was supposed to protect her.

A CSIS cover-up has just begun.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

At age 16, Elisa Hategan was an alienated runaway who became recruited into Canada’s most powerful white supremacist movement, the Heritage Front. She was groomed by top leaders to become a rising star of the extremist far-right movement. An errand girl for notorious Holocaust denier Ernst Zundel, she was a witness to the illicit activities of an undercover CSIS agent and co-founder of the Heritage Front. At age 18, she turned against the group and spied on them for several months before testifying in court and going into hiding.

Posted in activism, canada, crime, csis, news, politics, press, press release, racism, toronto | Tagged: , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a Comment »

Finally, a new website

Posted by E on March 19, 2014

For the last year I scaled back on my website because I wanted to redesign it using a simpler, cheaper hosting solution. I’m not terribly excited with the templates provided, but I managed to find one that wasn’t an aesthetic assault on the senses. And finally, all the basic parts are done! I’m glad to finally cross this project off my checklist – it’s been weird not to have a website, since I’m in the book-peddling business, but I figured that anybody who wanted to get in touch would find me here, through my Wordpress blog – which doesn’t get updated as much as I’d like, but is still a non-static site (I prefer blogs over static websites, and not just because they’re free and non-redundant, so I might decide to take down the website when my hosting year is up).

For now though, it’s good to re-establish that web presence again. So if anybody wants to check it out, it’s here: http://elisahategan.com/

Posted in writing | Tagged: , | Leave a Comment »

The world is full of Marias

Posted by E on October 25, 2013

Mariaromagirls

Over the past week I have been, like the rest of the world, captivated by the story of little Maria, the blonde and blue-eyed little girl who was thought to be kidnapped by the people who had raised her in a Greek Roma community. It was only today, when the true story came out – DNA confirmed her biological mother was another Roma woman living in Bulgaria, and that no kidnapping ever occurred — that memory flooded me. It was the summer of 2001 and I was visiting Romania for the first time since my family emigrated to Canada (when I was 11). I was in my mid-20s and eager to rediscover family I hadn’t seen since childhood. As I was waiting at the train station for my next connection, I witnessed a moment that lingered within me with such ferocity I felt compelled to capture it.

So here it is, a piece I wrote in 2001, about another Maria. (It was written before the terms Rrom and Roma became mainstream). I am posting it because I don’t think people in general (especially in the Western world) understand the fluid nature of child-rearing in close communities where poverty and poor living conditions are the norm. Taking in somebody else’s children, or asking someone to look after your own, is much more common than people in the west believe. This is all to show that jumping on the kidnapping bandwagon will only end with authorities having egg on their face — three other “Marias” were kidnapped from their parents by police in Ireland, only to be returned later when DNA showed the children hadn’t been kidnapped after all.

I am at the train station, waiting for the locomotive to Craiova. Sitting across from me, trying to pretend she isn’t staring, a middle-aged gypsy woman is perched quite comfortably on a huge sack of potatoes. Her rust-coloured dress is discoloured in patches under her arms, the result of old sweat stains that have been gradually absorbed by the flimsy cotton fabric. Bands of silver of varying widths coil around each of her chunky fingers; the knuckles of those fingers are permanently swollen from what looks like years of labouring in the wheat fields.

A little girl, no more than five, huddles between her knees. She is upset about something; she keeps her face buried in the woman’s skirt and won’t turn around, even when prodded.

“Aw, you poor wee thing,” the woman cajoles. “Come now, it’ll be all right.”

Though I’m pretending not to notice, trying to give them their privacy, I catch myself wondering what their story is. As if she’s been waiting all this time to unload it upon someone, the gypsy woman glances at me. She grins, and her wide smile reveals a row of gold teeth in place of her left incisors. She scans my face, the Swiss Army backpack next to my leg, and glances up again. “Not from ‘round here, are you?”

“Just passing through,” I say. “Going to visit my cousin in Craiova.” I realize that my accent is giving me away. The woman’s interest is piqued; it’s not often that she gets to chat with a foreigner who speaks passable Romanian.

“Bet you’re wondering what’s wrong with this lil’ mite,” she says, nudging the little girl’s shoulders. “She misses her momma, don’t you, pet?”

“Where is her mother?”

The woman’s features contort with sadness. She shakes her head. “They can’t keep her, you know. Her momma begged me to take her. I met them in a migrant camp where we were picking fruit all summer. They’re very young, her parents, so young and have absolutely nothing. Her momma saw me with my girl – look, there she is by the bagel stand, she’s all of eleven now – and said you’re so good with kids, please take my little one here with you.”

“But why couldn’t she keep her?”

The woman clucks her tongue. “Ay, if you could see them – they sleep in a tent with ten other people around, and it gets awfully cold at night. From the break of dawn they’re out in the fields the whole day, and the poor child is all alone in the camp. They worry about her, that she’s too young to look after herself. They think she’s better off with me back in my village. At first I said no, I’ve got enough trouble with my own one there, bless her heart, but this one’s momma kept imploring me to take her, so what could I do?”

The little girl rubs her face into the woman’s lap, left and right, as though she disagrees with her version of the story. I wonder if she can understand why she is being taken away. “She’s never been away from her momma before,” the woman says. “She’s a clingy one, always at her momma’s bosom. Hasn’t stopped crying once since we left this morning.”

I look at my watch. One-thirty in the afternoon. The train for Craiova is coming in fifteen minutes. I wonder when, or even if, this child will ever see her family again. The woman who is now her caretaker seems to know her way around children. She’ll be well looked after, I’m certain of it. Maybe she’ll even go to kindergarten. But her heart will always be somewhere else; to her, the transient life of seasonal laborers and nomads will be a bittersweet song. If she could have articulated it, surely she’d tell me that she would rather move with the seasons all through the continent, pitching tents in orchards and growing up to work a back-breaking job for little pay, like the Mexicans did for a century in California, than to be separated from her family.

The train’s siren whistles in the distance. It’s going to pull in any moment now. I tighten my grip on my backpack, getting ready to heave it back on. The gypsy’s daughter runs over to us, the tiny beads on her red and orange skirt making a chiming noise. She tugs on her mother’s sleeve. “Look,” she points. “Look over there.”

We turn our heads simultaneously, not toward the tracks but to the other side of the platform. The little girl’s head pops up. She squints for a second, and then the most magnificent smile breaks on her face, illuminating it.

A young woman no older than twenty is walking as fast as she can toward us, and a young man is following right behind her. As she spots us, her eyes begin to glow and her pace quickens.

The child makes a tiny sound like a yelp and jumps away from the old gypsy’s knee. She starts running as fast as her little legs can take her and leaps high into the young woman’s arms. The woman cradles the child, nuzzling her small head into her own neck. She places countless kisses on her forehead and cheeks, even as tears are rolling down her own face.

She approaches gingerly, unwilling to release her tight hold on the child. Looking at the old woman, she shakes her head. “I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t leave my baby.”

The man has caught up to us. “Thank God the train didn’t come yet,” he gasps. He wraps his arm around the mother and child and they hold each other. In this one moment the entire platform has melted around them and they are alone – a family that has nearly lost itself.

“Thank you so much,” weeps the young woman, her shining eyes directed at the peasant woman. “Thank you for trying to help us, but we have to stay together. I never realized it until now.”

They walk away slowly, their profiles dissolving into the soft golden dust that rises in the distance. “May God look after them,” the gypsy woman whispers, staring after them. I may not be religious, but right now is one of those rare moments when I feel compelled to add my wish to her prayer.

We say goodbye to one another and I watch the gypsy woman, her daughter and her large sack of potatoes board the second-class carriage. Peasants file past me, going from car to car. Their hands show the hardship they have endured: coarse knuckles twisted like gingerroots, fingernails caked with black dirt. They live a diet fortified with garlic and onions; everything around here is seasoned with garlic, salt and pepper, and many still eat onions like apples, raw and barely peeled. The sight of these people and the musty goat smell that reeks from their clothes is, like much of the natural beauty of this countryside, soon to be a vanishing sight, replaced by a page in a history textbook that youngsters will find too boring to study. I tune my music player to Va Pensiero. There’s a line in Verdi’s moving aria that always stirs something in my heart: “Oh, mia patria, si bella y perdutaOh, my homeland, so beautiful and so lost.”

I may be sitting in the air-conditioned section of my own compartment, but my thoughts trail along with that child and her family. It’s like watching my own family’s history unfold before my eyes: there’s my mother, five-year old Luci, being heaved onto a train by her own mother, soon to be dumped at her relatives’ doorstep. And then there’s my nine-year-old self, left behind at the airport, watching my mother as she departs for sunnier shores. And before us there is my infant father, curled up in an basket at my grandmother’s feet, being sent away from the father he would never know. I am part of a never-ending cycle of abandoned, traded and borrowed children; even here, on this train platform in 2001, the story repeats itself. I can only hope that in this little girl’s case it’ll have a happier ending.

Posted in belonging, children, news, press | Tagged: , , , , , , | 2 Comments »

The end of the Euro will be bloody, but inevitable

Posted by E on March 22, 2013

cyprus-banksCyprus bank queue

By now you’ve all heard about the latest European Union bailout conditions in Cyprus, and how banks froze all accounts in preparation to spring upon all individuals who hold money in Cyprus-based banks up to a 10% forceable deduction (6.75% for accounts totalling under 100,000 euros).

That is, if you hold money in a Cypriot bank, you will unequivocably lose up to 10% of it, no ifs, ands or buts. Why is this happening? For the good of the people, of course. Because Germany is holding your bailout hostage, and without doing as the Germans say and forking over your savings, you may have to drop out of the EU (which so many would consider a blessing). So with friends like Merkel/IMF, who needs enemies? Why bother invading a country anymore, when all you need to spread across Europe is to employ the aggressive tactics of a backalley money lender slash loan shark. The thing is, Merkel and her entourage at the IMF had originally demanded that Cyprus withhold all funds over 100,000 euros, but that was seen as too radical.

The euro will fall, of course. The question is, when – and I am of the opinion that it won’t be soon enough. Not soon enough to avoid more bloody riots in the streets, money being stolen out of the accounts of Cypriot, then Italian, then Spanish citizens — and rest assured, this move is inevitable, just as a rabid animal will thrash and attack anyone in its path rather than go crawl under a bush and just die, before succombing to its illness.

But the thing is, it won’t just fall because the Euro is an unsustainable fantasy and a neverending black hole. Not just because Germany’s domination brings more than a few ugly memories in mind of their invasion and dominance of so many other nations in WW2 (although there is no more need for armies these days; economical blackmail and entire countries taken hostage by their own EU-prostrating, always-deferring, fearful goverments is the de rigueur manner in which to conquer a nation these days).

What happened in Cyprus this week is unparalleled. It is the canary in a mine that signals the end of the European Union itself. Who wants to be bullied and controlled by the IMF, told how many hours they will need to work until age 70, have their pensions taken away and the money in their bank accounts confiscated? The EU is supposed to be a place of enlightenment, not a reincarnation of communist, stalinism, or fascism.

The Rubicon has been crossed; a domino effect has been set in motion by this unprecedented move and it will lead to a bloody, chaotic dissolution. We all must understand that even if Cyprus and Greece exit the EU in an orderly fashion, the sieve is fundamentally cracked and nothing can patch the irreversable damage that the EU model has done not only to people’s lives, but to the future relations between countries.

I’ve said this before, and I will say it forever more — people don’t want this. At the grassroots level, when you talk to the average Spaniard and Italian national in the street, even the average Romanian (who wanted to be in the EU probably more than anyone else) they all shake their heads. Nobody wants this imposed upon them; everybody dreams of the times when the lira and the peseta contributed to a better quality of life. Sure, it wasn’t perfect, and this is why everybody embraced the concept of the European Union with such zest, but after a decade of destruction to their quality of life, the rose-tinted glasses have come off.

People will begin to withdraw their moneys out of banks and going back to the old communist/socialist/wartime ways of hiding it in mattresses, converting it into gold, hiding it in a hole in their backyard, in a flower pot,  under a floorboard or a crack in the drywall. The Russian mafiosos who stored approximately 20% of all Cypriot bank withholdings will now inevitably withdraw all their profits en masse. The downward spiral of losses will further shake up the country, and fire up similarly-disadvantaged citizens of countries such as Greece, Spain and Italy to follow the same desperate measures to protect their savings. Both those with meager incomes and the billionaires will all take these measures, taking out funds in unparalleled amounts (the billionaires will, of course, store the rest of their assets in offshore accounts on some Caribbean island or another).

The diminishing funds in actual banks will speed up the inevitable. It will be ugly and many people will suffer unimaginable consequences, but there is absolutely no doubt in my mind that the Euro will soon take its rightful place in the annals of history as the worst failed experiment in the history of the European continent. Let’s just hope they don’t take the rest of the world down with them.

cyprus woman

Posted in europe, news, politics, revolution | Tagged: , , , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Doug Christie finally kicks the bucket

Posted by E on March 12, 2013

doug-christie

The day has come to celebrate: Doug Christie, Ernst’ Zundel’s best ally and legal counsel to Neo-Nazis all over North America, has finally kicked the bucket. And what a sweet day it is!
Unlike what most Toronto newspapers want you to believe, this wasn’t a case of “freedom of speech champion” — if you saw Ernst Zundel’s dedicated Christie bedroom in his Toronto Carlton Street townhouse (as I did when I was 16), complete with velvet red drapes and a framed portrait of Adolf Hitler on the wall, you’d know this went far beyond a professional relationship.

Doug Christie’s career as a lawyer and “defender of free speech” spanned WW2 war criminals, leaders of Aryan Nations, far-right extremists, and yes, even world-renowned Holocaust deniers and suppliers of revisionist propaganda worldwide. Propaganda that Christie enabled, by  defending Ernst Zundel for over two decades. Propaganda that was used to recruit impressionable teenagers and fueled the fires of hate and intolerance a world over. Literature that was distributed all over the world – as I can attest by the mailing lists that I stole from Zundel and provided to hate group-monitoring organizations.

There are few things more damning to one’s character than using one’s intellect, expertise and social clout to support and keep in business those who would spread lies, stock weapons, hold rallies to instigate hate against innocent people, and ultimately try to whitewash the truth of what happened in WW2.

I hate the whitewashing that goes on in the press decades after the fact, but nothing can change the definition of a contemptable snake in the grass: his name is/was Doug Christie.

christieZUNDEL

Posted in media, news, politics, propaganda | Tagged: , , , , , | 1 Comment »

A year of new beginnings

Posted by E on January 1, 2013

new year

May this year bring all of us the fulfillment of all our dreams and ambitions. I will be mostly absent from this blog over the next little while. I am embarking on both a new manuscript and a new exploration of my family’s past — and these two paths will hopefully interact in some significant, as-of-yet unknown way.

My results from my DNA test at 23andme have returned with a bang — something I have always known within myself, yet never had any confirmation of before now — that I am indeed of a Ashkenazi Jewish background. I have over a hundred cousins with the Cohen surname from the 2nd-3rd cousin level and up. Several other spellings of Cohen, Kohen, Kuhn and Kahan also pop up, as well as similar variations. (Also related to a significant portion of Kaplans, Friedmans and Rosenbergs). Although I’ve always known I was Romanian (born there, after all!) and Hungarian on my father’s side, now I have just discovered that I am of Polish and Russian Jewish backgrounds (with some German thrown in)….as much as 40%.  From the levels of my matches, the Jewish connection comes from BOTH of my parents, which is a shock given how anti-semitic and racist my mother has been throughout her life. But sometimes the strongest persecutors are those who have something to hide. There is also notable Southern European percentage that traces back to the Iberian/Spanish peninsula, and leads me to believe there’s an influx of Shephardic blood in my dna as well.

Like I said, it’s a confirmation of what I’ve always felt — and yet to see this in person, like this, decades after my father’s death, just made me weep. I just found out a couple of days ago….transferred my raw data to FamilyTreeDNA last night, so in another couple of weeks hopefully I will have more family matches. I strongly believe in genetic memory, and after the reaction I experienced in Kracow, Poland 10 years ago, and once again in Budapest and Debrecen, Hungary, it all begins to make sense. The fog is clearing, and it feels surreal to finally catch a glimpse of the truth that lies beyond the window that was obscured to me all of my life.

So the question remains — with nearly all of my 985 relatives on 23andme bearing Jewish surnames, and both the sides of my family descending from a Jewish line, does my heritage reside in my DNA, blood and ancestry, in my dreams and my senses, in my deja vus and my physical appearance, or in what a rabbi declares I am (or I am not)?  The answer, at least to me, is pretty obvious. And such is the way of the future, both for Israel and for the notion of what makes one a Jew.

Posted in ancestry, belonging, history, religion | Tagged: , , , , , , | 1 Comment »

Holiday greetings and inspiration for the year ahead

Posted by E on December 15, 2012

happy hanukkah

Here’s my year-end wish to all friends near and far: Have a wonderful Hanukkah, Holiday or whatever year-end celebrations you have coming. I know I’ve been terrible not to update this blog in something like 2 months, but I’ve been swamped with various gigs and my own writing projects.

Nothing much else to report, other than last month I was able to meet with my old Creative Writing professor from the University of Ottawa, Seymour Mayne. He was in Toronto for a reading, and we went out together afterwards. A couple of weeks later, I had the opportunity to be in Ottawa and we met on campus for an afternoon of lively conversation, European pastries and bittersweet reminiscing.

Just being around him infused me with the sense of hope and excitement I used to have while in his class — the first and ONLY creative writing class I will ever take. I remember that feeling well — that all you have to do is believe, funnel your creative talents outwards into the world, and magical things would happen. An alchemy of words, energy and infinite muses would come together to show you a path to your destiny.

I got lost on that path over the last few years. Nonetheless, I must force myself to stumble forward, even when I absolutely hate it, even when I can’t see a foot ahead of me, in the hopes that the dark forest will part one day and I will reach a destination where I will feel that I belong.

And on that note, I wish the same for all of you. May we all find kinship and love among one another, even when the howls of loneliness and doubt howl at our backs. May we all find a glowing hearth to rest besidem even when the worst of Arctic winds nip at our heels and the winter feels like it will never be over.

Posted in inspiration, technology, writing | Tagged: , , | Leave a Comment »

 
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