After World War II began, Portugal ordered its embassies and consulates not to issue visas to people “of undetermined, contested, or disputed nationality,” and especially not to stateless Jews. But Aristides de Sousa Mendes, the Portuguese consul-general in the French city of Bordeaux, simply refused to follow these orders, as Richard Hurowitz writes:

[When] in May 1940 the Nazi Blitzkrieg swept into France, tens of thousands of people descended on Bordeaux by train, car, bicycle, and even foot. Crowds formed at the Portuguese consulate. . . . On June 17, Paris fell. Sousa Mendes became more and more tortured by what he saw. In front of the great synagogue of Bordeaux, he met Chaim Kruger, a young Polish rabbi with his family crowded along with thousands of Jews in the square. Sousa Mendes offered to help, but his request for visas for Kruger and his family was rejected. Sousa Mendes assured the rabbi he would do everything in his power to get the necessary papers.

“It’s not just me that needs help,” the rabbi told him, “but all my fellow Jews who are in danger of their lives.” The words hit Sousa Mendes like a thunderbolt. For three days, he took to his bed in despair. . . . Then he emerged full of energy. “From now on I’m giving everyone visas,” the diplomat declared. “There will be no more nationalities, races, or religion.”

“I cannot allow all you people to die,” he told the refugees.

Kruger collected the passports of the Jews in the square. Sousa Mendes signed them all. Indeed, he reportedly proceeded to sign every visa put in front of him, setting up a veritable assembly line. His two sons along with other members of the family and Kruger prepared the passports and visas for signature, while his deputy, the thirty-two-year-old José Seabra, dutifully stamped them. News quickly spread and the consulate was suddenly filled to capacity. The consul himself worked well into the night signing visas. . . .

Sousa Mendes was later fired for his disobedience and died in penury and disgrace. But those who received visas escaped the horror that awaited them in occupied France.

Analyzing the recent direct Iranian attack on Israel, and Israel’s security situation more generally, Michael Oren looks to the 2015 agreement to restrain Iran’s nuclear program. That, and President Biden’s efforts to resurrect the deal after Donald Trump left it, are in his view the source of the current crisis:

Of the original motivations for the deal—blocking Iran’s path to the bomb and transforming Iran into a peaceful nation—neither remained. All Biden was left with was the ability to kick the can down the road and to uphold Barack Obama’s singular foreign-policy achievement.

In order to achieve that result, the administration has repeatedly refused to punish Iran for its malign actions:

Historians will survey this inexplicable record and wonder how the United States not only allowed Iran repeatedly to assault its citizens, soldiers, and allies but consistently rewarded it for doing so. They may well conclude that in a desperate effort to avoid getting dragged into a regional Middle Eastern war, the U.S. might well have precipitated one.

While America’s friends in the Middle East, especially Israel, have every reason to feel grateful for the vital assistance they received in intercepting Iran’s missile and drone onslaught, they might also ask what the U.S. can now do differently to deter Iran from further aggression. . . . Tehran will see this weekend’s direct attack on Israel as a victory—their own—for their ability to continue threatening Israel and destabilizing the Middle East with impunity.

Israel, of course, must respond differently. Our target cannot simply be the Iranian proxies that surround our country and that have waged war on us since October 7, but, as the Saudis call it, “the head of the snake.”