For Miriam Mattova, a 33-year-old Slovak-Canadian model and former Miss Slovakia, a routine ride home in Toronto became an encounter she says still feels unreal. Mattova says an Uber driver abruptly ordered her out of the car just after midnight on November 30 after overhearing her speak about a recent visit to Israel. Mattova was sitting in the back seat, on FaceTime with a friend, casually recounting her trip and plans to return. “It was a private call,” she told ynet Global. “In the middle of an intersection, she suddenly braked and told me to get out.”
At first, she thought something had gone wrong with the ride. When she asked why she was being dropped off, Mattova says the driver told her she was uncomfortable continuing. Moments later, according to Mattova, the driver added a blunt explanation: she does not drive Jewish people. “I stepped out not in fear, but in clarity,” Mattova said. “When someone reveals open discrimination, why stay in their space?”
Interview: Miriam Mattova and her lawyer Howard Levitt
(Video: Yaron Brener)
Mattova ordered another ride and immediately informed the friend who had booked the trip. Both women filed detailed complaints to Uber that night. She says there was no response for days and that she believes the company moved only after media inquiries brought attention to the case.
Four days later, on December 4, Mattova says an Uber representative called her. She later received an email apology stating the company would follow up with the driver to ensure it would not happen again and that the ride would be refunded. “When serious hate happens, companies have 24 hours to act,” Mattova said in an interview with the National Post. “Anything less lets prejudice live unchecked. What happened to me was direct antisemitism, and it is important to speak about it openly.”
Uber said in a statement that discrimination is not tolerated on its platform and that it regretted the passenger’s experience. The company said it had been in direct contact with Mattova and had taken “appropriate action” regarding the driver, but declined to specify what that action was.
“What worries me most is that Uber refuses to say whether the driver is still active on the platform,” Mattova said, adding that the company cited privacy rights.
A trip that changed her, and why this cut so deep
Photos from Mattova’s recent Israel visit were visible beside her during the interview. She has spent growing amounts of time in Israel over the past two years, visiting the Western Wall and communities near Gaza. She works with Israel Friends, a charity focused on trauma support for survivors of October 7 and for soldiers coping with post-traumatic stress. She says the organization has raised $55 million over two years, with a goal of placing people in therapy within three days rather than months. “This work connected me to families and survivors in a way I did not expect,” she said. “Helping Israelis is my mission.”
That connection also magnified the shock. “I thought Canada was safe,” she said. “Now I am careful what I say in public, even in a taxi. It is heartbreaking. It reminds me of Germany in 1938.”
Her comparison is rooted in family history. Mattova’s grandmother, now 90, survived the Theresienstadt concentration camp. Only she and her mother returned. “People ask why there are only 2,000 Jews in Slovakia,” Mattova said. “Because most were sent to camps. We cannot forget history, or pretend October 7 did not happen.”
She says her grandmother used to describe the early signs of hatred long before the war fully unfolded. “She told me terrifying stories about what was happening even one or two years before the war began,” Mattova said. “Moments like this bring me right back to what she warned about. If we let things like this pass in silence, will it return? That is the question that keeps me awake. Where are we going?”
The legal front: ‘there must be consequences’
Mattova’s lawyer, Howard Levitt, says they are pursuing the case beyond internal complaints. He argues that Uber’s response was slow and lacking transparency. “Uber never confirmed the driver was removed,” Levitt said. “If there are no consequences, it will happen again.”
Levitt says they are formally demanding several steps: Immediate termination of the driver, a contractual commitment by all drivers to a strict non-discrimination policy, a donation from Uber, not to Mattova personally, but to the charity providing trauma care in Israel. “Uber donating would show they are not indifferent,” Mattova said. Levitt argues that media attention forced the company to react at all. “Without the National Post breaking the story, there would have been no response,” he said. “Even now, the response has been indifferent.”
A growing fear, and what comes next
Mattova says she is nervous about using rideshare apps for the foreseeable future. “For now I will ask friends for rides or use different apps,” she said. She is also considering relocating, potentially to Israel.
Levitt frames the incident as part of a broader shift in Canada. He argues that antisemitism has become more visible and normalized, and that law enforcement responses have been inconsistent. Asked whether he would consider leaving the country himself, Levitt said he would not, but noted that many people he knows are weighing that possibility.
Mattova says her goal is not only personal justice, but a clear standard for how companies must react to hatred. “When a driver says something like this, it cannot be treated as a customer service issue,” she said. “It is discrimination, and it is dangerous.”
For her, the night of November 30 was more than a humiliating ride. She calls it a warning about what happens when prejudice goes unanswered. “History shows where silence leads,” she said. “That is why we cannot ignore it.”