As heir to one of Canada’s wealthiest families, Charles Bronfman is a Canadian/American philanthropist with a net worth of about $2 billion. Bronfman held various positions in his family’s liquor empire, Seagram, was a majority owner of the Montreal Expos, and chairman of the Andrea and Charles Philanthropies, Inc. He is co-chair of the McGill Institute for the Study of Canada and was founding co-chairman of Historica Canada, the charity that produced the famous Heritage Minutes commercials. Bronfman was the first chairman of the United Jewish Communities, which comprised United Jewish Appeal, the Council of Jewish Federations and United Israel Appeal. He also founded Taglit Birthright with Michael Steinhardt in the late 1990s. He’s a member of the Giving Pledge, a commitment by the world’s wealthiest individuals to give the majority of their wealth to philanthropy.

His new book, Distilled: A Memoir of Family, Seagram, Baseball and Philanthropy was published this month.

Would you describe this book as a “tell-all,” in the sense that in it you discuss issues you’ve never before addressed publicly?

Oh yeah, totally. It talks about a boy who was born into an amazing family and how he made his way through life even though he had a silver spoon in his mouth and for some time didn’t think so much of himself. How he was a late bloomer, but eventually he managed to have some impact.

What do you mean when you say that you didn’t think much of yourself?

If you read the book, you’ll see that I had very little ego. I used to think that my siblings – I was the youngest of four – were much stronger and more intelligent than I was. I was in awe of my father, in awe of my mother, and I thought I had very little merit. Then I worked for my father’s company and ran the Canadian business when I was pretty damn young – I was 27 or 28 when I started – and I did pretty well with that. But I sort of thought, “I’m still under protection.” It was only when I went out on my own with other partners and when I owned the Montreal Expos that I started to feel like I had merit. And then as life went on, as I started doing philanthropy, and I and my late wife and colleagues were able to make some important differences, I think.

Having grown up in such a prominent and wealthy family, one with a reputation for great philanthropy, did you feel enormous pressure both to build the family fortune and contribute to the community?

I felt a lot of pressure to follow my parents’ lead in philanthropy. I remember being 17 and going out with the then-youth division of Montreal’s Federation CJA campaign and trying to raise 50-cent pieces from people my age and a bit older. Then I went and did all the so-called right things by getting on the board of CJA and on the executive committee. When my father passed away, the agency asked if I would become the leading person, the president, of CJA, and I said, “I don’t even know if I like this work.” I was doing it because I thought I should. I said to them, “Give me a year.” And in that year, I looked into my soul and came back and said, “I do love this work, and if you take me, I’ll do whatever the community thinks I should.”

Once you’ve been a head of federation, you’re a player. From 1980 to 1983, I was on the board of the Jewish Agency. Then, in 1985, my then-wife and I decided to create our own foundation, the Andrea and Charles Bronfman Philanthropies, Inc. It had two objectives: the enhancement of Canadianism and the unity of the Jewish People, whose soul was in Jerusalem. Then we had to define what the heck all of that meant. We made our mistakes at the beginning, but eventually we had a very meaningful foundation. We were very fortunate that the Heritage Minutes commercials became so well known in Canada, as did the McGill Institute. These were distinct from our giving to Jewish causes. Then of course came Birthright, after I moved to New York and met Michael Steinhardt. The first trips went out in 1999, and the rest of that is history.

READ: CHARLES BRONFMAN WINDS DOWN HIS PHILANTHROPIC FOUNDATION

So the Heritage Minutes commercials were your idea? Why did you see that as an important undertaking?

Once in a while, I have a good idea. I thought it was important, because I’d spent a lot of time in the United States, and I knew that the religion of Americans was fundamentally love of country. And we didn’t have that in Canada. If you asked a Canadian at the beginning of the ’80s who they were, they’d say, “I’m not American, I’m not British and I’m not French.”

And I sincerely believe that society can’t be of merit unless it has heroines, heroes and myths. It seemed to me we had heroines and heroes, but not too many myths, and we needed to let our people know we had a heritage, one that Canadians should be excited about. I never thought we’d go as far as the Americans – and thank heavens we didn’t – because we have our own society and values, but I thought we should become somewhat in love with our country. That’s what makes a society. If you’re living in a place but just there to make a buck, there’s nothing that says to you, “I’m Canadian. I like this, this is terrific being Canadian.”

Do you see a major difference between the identity of American Jews and Canadian Jews?

Oh, absolutely. Canada’s a much calmer society, more level-headed, less emotional. I’d say the United States is a hysterical society in many ways, as you can see with the current election campaign. People either love someone or they hate them. And the whole election process is wild. The money spent on elections is outrageous and scandalous. These are terrible things, and yet the American people are wonderful, and the United States is the greatest country in the world.

The Canadian Jewish community is reflective of Canada generally. From what I recall and what I’ve seen, it seems that Canadian Jews are much closer to Israel than American Jews. One might say we’re a much younger community, but in many ways we’re not. My grandparents came to Canada in the 1890s, and a lot of Jews did.

Why did Birthright strike you as such an important project?

Michael Steinhardt and I co-founded it, but we had very different ideas of why it should happen. Michael was convinced Jews in the United States were going to assimilate, except for the Orthodox, and that something had to happen to save them. I was convinced that perhaps the Jewish community in the United States more than in Canada would diminish somewhat, but then Jews would be able to be Jews by choice and not by birth. My reasoning for Birthright was for the two great societies of Jews, Israeli Jewry and North American Jewry, to come together and develop empathy for each other, despite the differences in their societies.

We started from these different positions, but we both needed the same kind of institution in place to realize our goals. So we did it, and the results are as they are.

Are you happy with how Birthright has turned out?

In 15 or so years there has been more than 500,000 young adults between ages 18 and 26 who’ve taken a free 10-day trip to Israel, with a 92 per cent satisfaction rate. I think that’s pretty good.

It’s so far beyond anything we ever thought of. We thought if we got 10,000 to 15,000 attendees, it would be fantastic. And now we have 67 countries participating.

READ: HOW BIRTHRIGHT WAS BORN AGAINST ALL ODDS

It’s said that a lot of young North American Jews feel disenfranchised by institutionalized Judaism, as well as cynical about Israel’s future and critical of its government. Do those sentiments resonate with you?

I understand it totally. In my generation, we lived through Israel’s independence, the rebirth of the country, the War of Independence, etc. When I was younger, Israel was David writ large, and the Arabs surrounding it were Goliath. Then, after the first incursion into Lebanon in 1982, Israel became Goliath and the Palestinians, in particular, became David. So yes, if I was born in the 1970s and started watching television after 1980, I’d probably be very critical of Israel, too.

That’s why I think one of the great things is for young adults to go to Israel to see what the country is, what the people are really like and meet their peers in the army. They can then understand that the Israeli soldiers don’t have horns on their heads. And the Israelis can see there’s a Jewish world outside Israel. It works, big time.

In 2013, you were one of 100 prominent American Jews to send a letter to Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu urging him to work closely with the United States on devising pragmatic initiatives, consistent with Israel’s security needs, to represent Israel’s readiness to make territorial sacrifices for the sake of peace. What sort of sacrifices did you mean?

I don’t think it’s our job to tell the Israelis what they ought to be doing, except to insist that the real saviour of the country will be the two-state solution. Without it, Israel will eventually be in trouble. I’m now chairman of the advisory council of the Israel Policy Forum, a group that’s not well-known in Canada. We call ourselves the adults in the room. We’re committed to a two-state solution, but unlike other groups, we’ve partnered with a group in Israel called the Commanders for Israel’s Security. It’s made up of former Israeli generals, former heads of Mossad, Shin Bet and the police. They’ve devised a security plan, and we’re partners with them on that.

We feel there won’t be peace unless Israel makes a deal with the Palestinians. We cannot dictate to them how to conduct themselves.

The description of Distilled on Amazon says that in it you address how the sale of Seagram “splintered” the family. What did that look like?

It splintered. We’re not unified, although my brother and I subsequently got together on philanthropy. But we had a very difficult time, because he and his son wanted to go one way, and I thought that was a grave mistake. I had faith that my brother and his son wouldn’t sell “the candy store,” as they say, the great business my father built. But it was suddenly no more and it was terribly unfortunate. But there’s no feud. We’re not estranged.

You’re closing your foundation this year and will be handling your giving personally from now on. What are the advantages associated with that?

From an operating standpoint, we closed last year. We’re still fulfilling all of our long-term commitments, we’re just not taking on anything new. I’m 85 years old. I don’t want to start anything new. I’ve had great colleagues but we’re not exactly juniors anymore. We’ve had several great successes and want to keep funding those, to be on the boards of those causes, etc. But we don’t want to go forward with new ventures.

With philanthropy on the scale that you’re involved in, to what extent is giving motivated by sentimental reasons and to what extent do you give according to where you’re advised the greatest need is?

The way we do it is first you give as a citizen. So we give to things like the Combined Jewish Appeal, to the United Way. Then there are things that are close to the heart. In our case, we tried to give at least 65 per cent of funds to our core foundation enterprises like Birthright, the Heritage Minutes project and the McGill Institute. And then there are things like your friend being honoured at a charity, so you buy a table.

We always measure our successes and the successes of causes we give to. It’s done with a lot of thought and care.

Are there any causes you’ve given to significantly that people don’t know about?

No. We don’t play hide and seek. I don’t like giving anonymously, because I think if you want to lead by example you have to say, “I’m proud to have given to this and I want people to join me.”

When I joined the Giving Pledge – and I was one of the first Canadians to join – I said I’m going to make this pledge publicly not because I need the publicity but because maybe that will get other Canadians to give at least half their funds to philanthropy.

Is there anxiety associated with giving away half or more of what you have?

Not on my part, no.

READ: ISRAELI AUTHOR/FILMMAKER ETGAR KERET WINS BRONFMAN PRIZE

What do you hope people will take away from this book?

It’s not a book I wrote as a salve for my ego. I wrote it to show that just because you’re born with a silver spoon in your mouth doesn’t mean you’ll succeed. There’s the question of how you’re going to succeed without your parents’ money. Yes, you inherited their money, but you can fritter it away. So how do you make yourself a useful member of society? And that’s an important question, whether you’re born with a silver spoon or not. It’s important whether you’re an early or a late starter.

I was a late starter, but I think I’m a pretty strong finisher, and I ain’t through yet!

This interview has been edited and condensed for style and clarity.

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