While some historians have argued otherwise, Amin Haj al-Husseini—the grand mufti of Jerusalem prior to World War II—did not influence the Final Solution; he did, however, form a close alliance with Nazi Germany, which protected him and supported him financially, in exchange for his production of pro-Nazi propaganda for the Muslim world. Most importantly, writes Jeffrey Herf, the mufti’s lasting legacy was his contribution to a particular strain of Islamic anti-Semitism:

In his confidential conversations with German diplomats and then in a major public speech in Syria in 1937, Husseini made clear that his opposition to Zionism was rooted in his interpretation of Islam. Husseini’s importance . . . lay in his ability to weave together an interpretation of Islam and the secular language of Arab nationalism and anti-colonialism. In his reading of the Quran and its commentaries, Islam emerges as a religion that is inherently anti-Semitic and is hostile both to the religion of Judaism and to [Jews themselves].

Husseini was one of the founding fathers of the ideological tradition [now] known as . . . Islamism. That tradition, which continues in our own time, has Sunni and Shia variations, but its original base was in the Sunni Muslim Brotherhood, which inspired such subsequent organizations as al-Qaeda, Hamas, Hizballah, and Islamic State—[as well as] the Islamic Republic of Iran. Despite their differences, [these entities] all share a conviction that, among other things, the message of Islam is inherently anti-Jewish and anti-democratic and that it provides justification for terrorism against Jews, “non-believers,” and “infidels” such as Christians, as well as Muslims who take a different view of Islam.

If Iran succeeds in obtaining nuclear weapons, the war in Gaza, let alone the protests on college campuses, will seem like a minor complication. Jonathan Schachter fears that this danger could be much more imminent than decisionmakers in Jerusalem and Washington believe. In his view, Israel seems to be repeating the mistake that allowed it to be taken by surprise on Simchat Torah of 2023 and Yom Kippur of 1973: putting too much faith in an intelligence concept that could be wrong.

Israel and the United States apparently believe that despite Iran’s well-documented progress in developing capabilities necessary for producing and delivering nuclear weapons, as well as its extensive and ongoing record of violating its international nuclear obligations, there is no acute crisis because building a bomb would take time, would be observable, and could be stopped by force. Taken together, these assumptions and their moderating impact on Israeli and American policy form a new Iran concept reminiscent of its 1973 namesake and of the systemic failures that preceded the October 7 massacre.

Meanwhile, most of the restrictions put in place by the 2015 nuclear deal will expire by the end of next year, rendering the question of Iran’s adherence moot. And the forces that could be taking action aren’t:

The European Union regularly issues boilerplate press releases asserting its members’ “grave concern.” American decisionmakers and spokespeople have created the unmistakable impression that their reservations about the use of force are stronger than their commitment to use force to prevent an Iranian atomic bomb. At the same time, the U.S. refuses to enforce its own sanctions comprehensively: Iranian oil exports (especially to China) and foreign-currency reserves have ballooned since January 2021, when the Biden administration took office.

Israel’s response has also been sluggish and ambiguous. Despite its oft-stated policy of never allowing a nuclear Iran, Israel’s words and deeds have sent mixed messages to allies and adversaries—perhaps inadvertently reinforcing the prevailing sense in Washington and elsewhere that Iran’s nuclear efforts do not present an exigent crisis.