PLEASE, NO MORE PLANS FOR THE JEWS - MARCH 6, 2016

Every Tom, Dick and Harry has a plan of the week for the Jews.

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Published: Sunday, March 06, 2016 9:38 AM

Jack Engelhard

Jack Engelhard’s classic international bestselling novel Indecent Proposal,...

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Please, no more plans for the Jews.


Please don’t send me your plans for the Jews. There have been enough plans. I know all about plans. I was once part of a plan. So was my sister. So was my entire family. So were millions of families. People always had plans for us and still do. Spare me your bright ideas.



I know all about plans. I was once part of a plan. So was my sister. So was my entire family. So were millions of families.
Like the one that came this morning, from Montreal, full of bells and whistles.


He is Jewish, this writer. He writes for a somewhat pro-Israel newspaper; I mean he is generally on my side. So he had a brainstorm and he wrote about it and would I please give my opinion. It was about the “West Bank” and how to redistribute Area’s A, B and C. Or maybe just Area C.


I never got to read it, this plan, because every week someone has a plan and this week’s plan is always better than last week’s plan.


On top of that here comes Dennis Ross along with Facebook friend David Makovsky to boost their latest plan “to revive the peace process.” Would I please read their not-to-be missed big idea as revealed in The Washington Post? No thanks…and you must be kidding when you say not enough attention has been paid to the conflict.


Seriously, wasn’t it two weeks ago when you two guys teamed up for the same newspaper with another plan, or was it the same plan but with a cherry on top? Or am I thinking of Tom Friedman over there at the Times and his plan of the week?  Every Tom, Dick and Harry has a plan of the week for the Jews.

They come from the left. The come from the right. But as I warned in this book every plan is a metaphor that ends in a trap for the Jewish State.


Something happens to me when I hear about plans for the Jews. It gets worse when I hear plans for Areas, or Zones, like A, B, C, or D or X, Y, Z. Immediately my mind shifts to the Berlin suburb of Wannsee where, January 20, 1942, Hitler’s highest officials gathered for the Wannsee Conference.

They had a plan.


The man in charge was Reinhard Heydrich of the SS, no one you’d want to know, and there were more like him gathered around a big table and there was no talk of murdering the Jews. No, it was all quite civil on the topic for a “final solution to the Jewish question.”


Notice the code. Notice the metaphor. Today we know what “final solution” really means. Back then it was simply business.


The business was how to “distribute” the Jews. They had in mind 11 million of us. The atmosphere was entirely business-like. There was scant mention or no mention of death camps, gas chambers, crematoriums, or Zyclon B. Mostly these were plans to round up the Jews.


The conference was about transferring Jews from here to there, from this Area to that Area, from Area A to Area B to Area C and on up to Area Z.


Think of your local Zoning Board.


Mostly it was about train schedules…”transports” and train schedules.

The meeting was so professional that you have to read the transcripts very carefully to find any derogatory remarks about the Jews.


There was hardly a note of anti-Semitism in the room.


The men were being entirely methodical about their final solution to the Jewish question. Methodically, much of what they said was done.


Six million Jews were methodically slaughtered according to plan.

Now I am not saying that today’s men and women with a plan have the same plan in mind. Many Arabs do. Many Europeans have it in mind.


The BDS crowds surely have it in mind. That’s what their movement is all about.

My Jewish friends with a plan SURELY mean well. But it still means “transporting” the Jews and “distributing” the Jews, even within their own homeland.


Foolishly, I assumed that once the Jewish State became sovereign there’d be no more plans, other than Biblical proprietorship over the entire Land.


To me, a plan still means code, still means metaphor, still means a final solution to the Jewish question…and it gives me the creeps.

IMPOLITE QUESTIONS FOR TRUDEAU - DECEMBER 13, 2015

Mercy may rebound and righteousness may lead to jihad.

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Published: Sunday, December 13, 2015 10:44 PM

Jack Engelhard

Jack Engelhard’s classic international bestselling novel Indecent Proposal,...

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First of all, to equate “the plight of the Syrian refugees,” who have choices, with the plight of the Jews is an insult to decency.


The Jews who survived the Holocaust had no choices…except to be exterminated. They had no place to go. Every door was closed. Some managed to trickle in to the New World. For the Syrians an entire world awaits them, beginning with the 57 countries that make up the Organization of Islamic Cooperation.


Plus Europe, Canada and Jewish groups (see here) who have opened their arms to welcome the Syrians as they never welcomed the Jews.

Only yesterday a beaming Prime Minister Justin Trudeau welcomed the first arrivals.


Nuremberg Laws. Boycotts. Round-ups. Cattle cars. Death camps. Beatings. Starvation. Genocide. That was the fate for the Jews.

Nothing like that for Syrians on the run and seeking “a better life” -- but also bringing with them sharia, jihad and anti-Semitism.


Unpleasant to say, but a fact, supported by surveys that show nearly 90 percent of them openly hostile to Jews, and Christians.


For the Jews of a generation ago it was not about seeking a better life, but seeking life, period. The few who came, came without shoes.


The Syrians appear well-fed, well-dressed, mostly men, hence likely deserters. They make demands.

Jews made no demands. They were grateful for anything.


They came with violins. They never torched the American flag, never shouted Allah Akbar or beheaded infidels.


They came. They assimilated. They worked. They won Nobel Prizes and still today there are no Jewish “no-go” zones.


This too is unpleasant to say, but today’s migrants do pose a threat.


Not all are radicalized Muslims. I have enough Muslim neighbors to know that plenty are good citizens.

But who can sort the bad from the good?


We could not sort them out in New York or in Boston and we were unable to tell them apart at Fort Hood. Paris could not sort them out, either.


Apparently that is of no concern to the tenderhearted, Canadian and American Jews among them, who’ve opened their doors, their hearts, their houses of worship to people whose allegiance is not to the Jewish or to the Christian Bible, but to the Koran, which codifies an entirely different sort of behavior.


Europe is finished. You’ve lost your continent to Islam – which, come to think of it, may be an improvement.


Trudeau of Canada is bringing in 25,000 of them like rock stars. So if they are in Canada, they are also in border-deficient United States.


Has Trudeau thought this through, the gamble he’s taking not just for Canada, but for the rest of us as well?


They can come and go as they please. Thus his generosity puts us all at risk.


They are coming to a synagogue near you, in some cases at the invitation of your rabbi. So is it impolite to ask why this does not work both ways? Where is the hospitality from the mosques, any mosque, even one, when Jews are hurting? Is there any record, any evidence of this happening today, yesterday, or ever?


These charitable hosts, Liberals all, allege that the Bible commands them to be merciful. Merciful, yes, but not stupid.


Europe is finished. You’ve lost your continent to Islam – which, come to think of it, may be an improvement.
Ecclesiastes in fact warns against being “overly righteous.”


We did not ask to be a partner to this migration. It’s been forced upon us.

They could be doctors. They could terrorists, what’s coming.


So your generosity is our peril. Your mercies may well be our consequences. Your righteousness may be the next San Bernardino.


You are too kind, my Liberal friends. Much too kind. Much too dangerous.

LIBELED AND LABELED (EU AND YOU TOO, MR. OBAMA?) - NOVEMBER 13, 2015

This was a double-cross heard around the world.

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Published: Friday, November 13, 2015 3:42 PM

Jack Engelhard

Jack Engelhard’s classic international bestselling novel Indecent Proposal,...

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Well that was a quick second or third honeymoon. This column was supposed to be about Bibi and Obama “mending fences.”

That appeared to be the case. They smiled. They shook hands. Bibi even said it was the best meeting he ever had with this White House.

Then, as Jackie Gleason used to say – “Pow! Right in the kisser!”

This was a double-cross heard around the world, as per this headline, “Obama approves of EU labeling of Jewish products.”

The short of it is that Europe has gone brothel again. Anything (including the cure for cancer?) made in the “settlements” will be labeled as unfit for European consumption. But that’s just my interpretation. Read all about it here, which includes Obama saying, “Sure. Why not? Let’s pile on.”


I am a Jewish product. Yes I am. I am a Jewish product and I feel libeled and labeled.
That’s not a direct quote, but my version of, “You too, Mr. President?”

Israel, the only country in the region that shares our values and fights our fight, and this is the country the White House chooses to humiliate.

Europe, no surprise. But America is supposed to differ and stand against segregation.

So it’s about “Jewish products” and guess what – I am a Jewish product. Yes I am. I am a Jewish product and I feel libeled and labeled.

This isn’t the first time, though all of us thought it would be the last time, going back a generation ago, which seems like yesterday.

So it’s about “Jewish products” and guess what – I am a Jewish product. Yes I am.

Yesterday (around 1942) the Gestapo arrived at my father’s leather shop in Toulouse, France. They ordered the shop closed for being Jewish.

“Occupied territory,” they declared.

So through my father, and mother, and sister, I know about being libeled and labeled.

The family didn’t wait around. Father did not need a mystical handwriting on the wall. It was spelled out right there on the window of his shop.

The label read, “Juif.”

That’s pretty much how it’ll soon be read all across Europe…again…and with my president’s blessing.

Of the Six Million who were trapped in Europe an overlooked detail haunts me. These days when I see images of European Jews waiting on the platforms to be herded onto the trains, I notice something odd. Husbands and wives are carrying suitcases. For what? For Auschwitz?

They do not know, or do not dare guess, that Auschwitz is their destination and their destiny. They were told about being “relocated.” Nothing to worry about.

They believed because they had no choice except to believe. But till the end, they never lost hope.

Likewise today.  We’re told that labeling measures are being taken only against places that are illegally “occupied.”

Sounds awfully familiar to this Jewish product, me, and you, because truly, the libeling and the labeling never stops, once it begins.

We are all Jewish products. To them it’s all occupied territory wherever a Jew stops to catch a breath.

Today we have Israel, a Jewish State, so there should be no need to walk around with a suitcase. Today the hope is real and alive.

Time to tell Europe that we’re onto the tricks and thanks but we’re skipping your next Holocaust. Boycott This!

SYRIAN REFUGEES, HOW LUCKY THEY AREN'T JEWS - SEPTEMBER 8, 2015

During WWII, the Times put the Holocaust atrocities on page 36. The Syrians are on page one. Somehow, the Jewish refugees always had the wrong papers and were always standing in the wrong line.

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Published: Tuesday, September 08, 2015 3:09 PM

Jack Engelhard

Jack Engelhard’s classic international bestselling novel Indecent Proposal,...

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The refugee tsunami coming out of Syria may well be genuine. But here’s something to ponder. “We are deliberately ignoring the issue as a strategic maneuver. If these refugees go and settle in the West then they will take with them the beacon of light that is Islam,” an official from the Saudi government said.



So whatever the result, by accident or by design, the West, beginning with Europe, is being gifted by “the beacon of light that is Islam.”


Whether from ISIS and whoever else is maneuvering from behind the scenes, this could have been the plan all along…to force millions to vacate one continent in order to subsume another continent. By hook or by crook they keep on coming and most of them are men. Where are the women?


Where are the 57 countries that make up the world’s Islamic constituency? Oh – this has just been explained, has it not?


The Islamic confederacies are “deliberately ignoring the issue” to deliver Islam into our homes. Understood.


Says the Saudi authority -- “We already have a lot of Muslims here. We don’t need any more.”

Apparently we do. We need more.



That Syrian infant washed up on shore. The world weeps. One and a half million Jewish babies never even got that far.
Lucky for these Syrians that they are indeed Muslims. If they were Jews they wouldn't stand a chance. For the Jews in the same spot only a generation ago, no tears, no hugs, no welcoming arms, no open borders, no cry to help these people – nothing. Nothing but silence, the silence of complicity.


Every door was closed. The refugee ship St. Louis tried to find an open door but was sent back.


The New York Times could not be bothered. The paper that covered the Holocaust on page 36 as part of “in other news,” today lobbies and campaigns to bring Syrians into the United States – FRONT PAGE.

That Syrian infant washed up on shore. The world weeps. One and a half million Jewish babies never even got that far.


So the Times needs more and Europe needs more and is getting more from “the beacon of light that is Islam.” Quite a bargain.


We already wrote here about Germany trading its Six Million murdered Jews for six million living and very active Muslims. Good luck with that.


But most of the good luck goes to the Syrians. They have the right papers.


The Jews in the same situation always had the wrong papers and were always standing in the wrong line. Canada’s Mackenzie King government spoke for Canada. Asked how many Jewish refugees it was willing to absorb, a high-placed official uttered these famous words – “None is too many.”


He spoke for Canada. He spoke for the world.


He is still speaking for the world. A generation later it’s the same scorn, but this time it’s for Jews who have come home to the Land of Israel.


So Dear World, spare me your tainted pieties. I can’t remember your sweet mercies when the Jews were the storm-tossed refugees.


I can’t remember your hugs, your, smiles, your warm embrace when the few of us, the remnants, made it to shore as we told it in this memoir.


Our bad timing, it must have been, that we failed to arrive as Arabs. Yes, lucky them, doubly so because these Syrian men who left their women behind and pushed their children forward, only yesterday weren’t they stomping the American flag and shouting death to Christians and Jews?

Tomorrow, once settled in and comfy in their European jihadist no go zones, won’t it be the same thing all over again, with raping your wives and daughters as an added feature, a specialty of the beacon of light that is Islam? It’s already there, but there’s more coming.


Tomorrow, It’s already there, but there’s more coming.


So spare me your superior compassion because some of us fail to weep as loudly as you do for Syrian infants. We are dry of tears after weeping for Jewish toddlers in Israel who were stoned, knifed, firebombed and shot by Palestinian jihadists who share Syrian kinship.


They are brothers and lucky for them to find you so hospitable. The Jews --we had no such luck. None was too many.


For you, Dear Europe, there is no stopping “the beacon of light that is Islam.” That’s called justice.


New York-based Novelist Jack Engelhard writes a regular column for Arutz Sheva. His latest work is “The Bathsheba Deadline,” a newsroom thriller that features legendary editor Jay Garfield and his heroic stand against media bias and Islam’s clash against the West.  Website:www.jackengelhard.com

NATALIE PORTMAN'S BAD HAIR DAY - AUGUST 25, 2015

First let’s remember that in Hollywood there is nothing worse than a bad hair day.

Next – there is something about West Coast movie people that is not quite right. They are so good at what they do when they read lines that somebody else wrote. But thinking for yourself is quite another skill, and that’s where we find Natalie Portman in remarks without a script.

The bred-in-Jerusalem Oscar-winning beauty told Britain’s The Independent that Jews ought to stop kvetching about the Holocaust. The Shoah is not so special. Other people suffer, too, like the Rwandans and their Genocide – and how about the pain and suffering when two starlets show up at the Oscars wearing the same gown!

She didn’t put it quite like that, but when I read her remarks I thought maybe I’m not seeing straight, that it was Mahmoud Abbas being quoted. The leader of the PA thugs is a famous Holocaust denier. 

Natalie is not that – but too close for comfort. Israel bashing is not enough? We need this?

All participants in the industry must think alike, or else – or else it’s sitcoms.
We need this from a Hollywood starlet who used to go around praising Israel and her Jerusalem childhood?

In her defense, the obvious – she is beautiful and beautiful people have certain rights, like the right to be clueless. But she earned a degree in psychology from Harvard, so ignorance won’t do as an excuse. So it must be Hollywood. All participants in the industry must think alike, or else – or else it’s sitcoms.

Upon arrival at any dream factory they school you into Group Conformity and Proper Liberal Orthodoxy. Casting no longer begins at the couch but with the question, “How do you feel about Obama?” Check “love him” if you want the part and a career.

Next question: “What TV news channel do you watch?” CNN is acceptable. But MSNBC is better.

If you say “Fox” say Sayonara.

So imagine the brainwashing she endured, our Natalie. No joke. To go from I Left My Heart in Jerusalem to trifling the Holocaust, someone must have done quite a job on her. So I am willing to cut her some slack. She misspoke. She was misquoted. She got up late. A heel broke. The director was being nasty.

David Lean never spoke to actors as people. He considered them a different (lower) caste. I don’t agree.

Despite it all, I choose to suspend judgment on Natalie Portman. She is too attractive, too talented, too Israeli to dislike.

She deserves a chance to rethink and to beg forgiveness. Our High Holy Days are coming up. There are plenty of synagogues in town.

Only trouble is, many of them are run by the same “rabbis” who publicly supported Obama’s Iran Nuke 

Deal, a recipe for genocide upon the heads of both the United States and Israel. Even Rwanda. That is another reason to go easy on Natalie. She is only part of the problem.

She is but the latest in this outbreak of foolishness, this epidemic of betrayal that has gripped our people.

At least she’s beautiful. What’s their excuse?

New York-based author and bestselling novelist Jack Engelhard writes a regular column for Arutz Sheva. His novel “Indecent Proposal” was translated into more than 22 languages and turned into a Paramount motion picture starring Robert Redford and Demi Moore. His latest thriller is “The Bathsheba Deadline.” Website: www.jackengelhard.com

Sample Chapter of Jack Engelhard's Escape From Mount Moriah

Jack Engelhard’s award winning book ESCAPE FROM MOUNT MORIAH recently had its first chapter, MY FATHER JOE brought to the silver screen by A-List Canadian filmmaker Nikila Cole. The film has taken prizes at film festivals throughout the world and is featured at this year’s CANNES FILM FESTIVAL.

All the pathos, love and upheaval that shines through every paragraph of the story and every minute of the cinema has again brought to the fore this brilliantly written, emotion-packed collection of stories about life as seen through the eyes of a young Jewish refugee from the Holocaust growing up in Montreal in the Late Forties-Early Fifties.

Now, through the generous permission of Jack Engelhard, I am presenting here another story from this one of a kind collection:

I RESIGN

I RESIGN is probably the most lighthearted true story recounted in ESCAPE FROM MOUNT MORIAH. Between this and MY FATHER JOE, one cannot help but see that these accounts each have their individual appeal, while collectively the reader experiences at the visceral level every emotion on the planet

So now is presented, through Jack Engelhard’s kind consent, the story “I RESIGN”, one of eighteen mini-masterpieces that make up ESCAPE FROM MOUNT MORIAH, available in hardcover from Amazon as well as on Kindle.

From “Escape From Mount Moriah” by Jack Engelhard

Copyright © 2011 Jack Engelhard

Chapter 9

I RESIGN

My first job was with a man named Mr. Cohen, who ran a nursery. When I first went out there, to Cote de Neige in the vast outskirts of Montreal, I thought I’d be working with children. These turned out to be plants.

The job required being on your knees all morning and afternoon to pull out weeds, row after row under a spiteful July and then August sun.

The weeds grew fast. One day I counted them, how many I was pulling, and the total came to 6,740. They grew tall and thick and you never knew what lurked between them. Rats, for example. Rats bigger than dogs. One afternoon there I was, face to face with a rat. He stayed. I ran.

I told Mr. Cohen about it and he laughed.

As for me, I did not think it so funny. I was about 14 then. Most boys my age were delivering newspapers — but we needed more money.

So each day for a good part of that summer I took three streetcars to Cote de Neige and three streetcars back, an hour an a half in the morning, an hour and a half at night, and in between I pulled weeds.

Now, the thirst was the worst of it; no matter how much water you drank, it was never enough. The walk from Mr. Cohen’s nursery to the first streetcar stop was about two miles, and I walked this distance filthy from dust and empty from thirst. I passed beautiful, new suburban homes — another life for me. People would be sitting outside on their lawns, watering the grass.

What a waste of water, I thought. What were they watering anyway? Weeds?

Or they’d be eating juicy watermelon.

Now, I know this is what I saw. I once saw Maurice Richard sitting outside just like that, eating watermelon. Maurice Richard, the Babe Ruth of hockey. I never even told my friends about this. First, nobody sees God…so how can you see Maurice Richard? Second, this was mine. I wanted to keep it to myself.

I did tell Mr. Cohen about it and he laughed.

I hated this job very much.

One day Mr. Cohen asked me to run a hose over a long row of flowers. “I’m promoting you,” he said with a chuckle. Accidentally, I aimed the hose in his direction and drenched him from head to toe. I missed no part of him.

“I needed a shower anyway,” he said.

I said to myself, I am not long for this job.

One more rat, I promised myself, and I am gone for good. Goodbye.

Only a few days later, nearing the end of August and the beginning of school, here was that rat standing between me and a weed I was about to extract. I fled to Mr. Cohen’s office. Before stepping in, I took time to collect myself.

Then I said, “Mr. Cohen, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“Even two,” he said.

I felt awful. Never before had I resigned. “My Cohen,” I said, “I resign.”

He laughed.

“You resign?”

What was so funny? Resign was serious business. “Yes. I resign.”

“Resign?”

“Yes,” I said.

“You?” he said. “You resign?”

“Yes,” I said. “I resign.”

“No you don’t resign.”

“Yes I do resign.”

Then he explained.

“Presidents resign. Prime ministers resign. You?”

All this over a single word. Had I said something so terrible? Apparently yes. For Mr. Cohen was almost violently particular about this. That I was quitting…this bothered him not at all. That I was resigning…this infuriated him.

“You?” he said. “You quit.”

He wanted me to say the words. I realized that by quitting, I was the weed picker that I was — there among the worm, the ant, the rat. By resigning…by resigning I was soaring to the heights of presidents and prime ministers, and certainly well beyond the reach of Mr. Cohen.

No wonder he was outraged, especially when — even after he offered to double my severance pay — I still refused to quit.

No, I resigned