In The Last Rabbi, William Kolbrener, a scholar of Milton, uses literary criticism and psychoanalysis to understand the philosophical works of the great 20th-century luminary. (Interview by Alan Brill).

Soloveitchik writes in [his theological treatise] Halakhic Man of what he considers to be the primary Jewish imperative, for man to “create himself.” Seen from this perspective, Soloveitchik’s philosophical writings serve as a kind of spiritual memoir, the means by which he creates himself through writing. Halakhic Man, for example, is about his father, his uncle [both distinguished rabbis], but also about himself, as he at once declares allegiance to his ancestors but also asserts independence from some of the traditions they represent. Repentance or t’shuvah is critical for Soloveitchik—throughout his works—as a form of story-telling about the self, one which allows for constant self-critique and continued self-construction.

Recognition of failure plays an important role in Soloveitchik’s emotional journey, and in the stories he tells about himself. Where, in childhood memories, failure is embarrassing or even shameful, later in his life both failure and suffering are transformed, retroactively becoming marks of distinction, indeed of existential chosenness. . . .

Indeed, I call him the “last rabbi” because of [his] self-perceived (and self-represented) failure as a teacher, his ostensible inability to communicate [what he calls the] “Torah of the heart” [alongside the more cerebral teachings]. While engaging his students intellectually, he was not able, he confesses, to solicit “growth on the experiential plane,” or to bestow his “personal warmth on them.” That is, Soloveitchik may have emphasized creativity and self-creation to such an extent, may have become so much the individual, that he transformed himself into the last rabbi.

For some time, opponents of U.S support for Israel have been urging the White House to end the war in Gaza, or simply calling for a ceasefire. Douglas Feith and Lewis Libby consider what such a result would actually entail:

Ending the war immediately would allow Hamas to survive and retain military and governing power. Leaving it in the area containing the Sinai-Gaza smuggling routes would ensure that Hamas can rearm. This is why Hamas leaders now plead for a ceasefire. A ceasefire will provide some relief for Gazans today, but a prolonged ceasefire will preserve Hamas’s bloody oppression of Gaza and make future wars with Israel inevitable.

For most Gazans, even when there is no hot war, Hamas’s dictatorship is a nightmarish tyranny. Hamas rule features the torture and murder of regime opponents, official corruption, extremist indoctrination of children, and misery for the population in general. Hamas diverts foreign aid and other resources from proper uses; instead of improving life for the mass of the people, it uses the funds to fight against Palestinians and Israelis.

Moreover, a Hamas-affiliated website warned Gazans last month against cooperating with Israel in securing and delivering the truckloads of aid flowing into the Strip. It promised to deal with those who do with “an iron fist.” In other words, if Hamas remains in power, it will begin torturing, imprisoning, or murdering those it deems collaborators the moment the war ends. Thereafter, Hamas will begin planning its next attack on Israel:

Hamas’s goals are to overshadow the Palestinian Authority, win control of the West Bank, and establish Hamas leadership over the Palestinian revolution. Hamas’s ultimate aim is to spark a regional war to obliterate Israel and, as Hamas leaders steadfastly maintain, fulfill a Quranic vision of killing all Jews.

Hamas planned for corpses of Palestinian babies and mothers to serve as the mainspring of its October 7 war plan. Hamas calculated it could survive a war against a superior Israeli force and energize enemies of Israel around the world. The key to both aims was arranging for grievous Palestinian civilian losses. . . . That element of Hamas’s war plan is working impressively.