Perhaps the quintessentially American poet, Walt Whitman “mentions God frequently, but he is not a conventional believer,” writes Sarah Rindner. She goes on to subject the religious spirit she finds in Whitman’s best-known work, Leaves of Grass, to a Jewish reading:

I have heard what the talkers were talking, the talk of the beginning and the end,
But I do not talk of the beginning or the end.
There was never any more inception than there is now,
Nor any more youth or age than there is now,
And will never be any more perfection than there is now,
Nor any more heaven or hell than there is now.

These verses are from the section of Leaves of Grass titled “Song of Myself.” Rindner observes:

There’s a stereotype of religious life that it is obsessed with life after death, and perhaps also the creation stories that precede both. Whitman is not interested in the beginning or end, and he is right [not to be]. For Whitman, and, I think, for us all, the correct place to focus is the present: on our obligations, our blessings, and our opportunities to grow in the here and now. As the Psalmist reminds us, and is true every day, “This is the day that the Lord made; we shall exult and rejoice in it.”

And then there is Whitman’s description of grass itself as “the handkerchief of the Lord/ A scented gift and remembrancer designedly dropt,/ Bearing the owner’s name someway in the corners, that we may see and remark, and say Whose?”—to Rindner, “a potent encapsulation of how a religious seeker might find meaning in nature.” Reading this poem, she confesses, “I see God’s name somewhere in the corners as well.”

Donald Trump’s recent visit to the Arabian Peninsula, where he was fawned over by Hamas’s patrons in Qatar, made deals with the Saudis but seemingly no progress on diplomatic normalization between Riyadh and Jerusalem, and met with multiple Arab leaders while neglecting Israel—has raised much concern that the president is putting distance between himself and the Jewish state and moreover, that Israel’s regional standing is sliding. These concerns strike me as exaggerated and even overwrought, and in some cases wishful thinking on the part of those who would prefer such outcomes.

To Dan Schueftan too, Jerusalem is in an excellent position both diplomatically, and—as the IDF again ramps up its operations in Gaza—military:

In the regional arena, Israel has already won the war that started on October 7, 2023. While the fighting is not over yet, a confrontation with Iran is potentially dangerous, and there is no sustainable “solution” available in Gaza, the balance of power in the Middle East shifted dramatically in favor of the Jewish state and its de-facto Arab allies.

Since October 7, Israel has devastated in Gaza the only Arab state-like entity controlled by the Muslim Brotherhood. The IDF also reduced Hizballah from an intimidating strategic threat, practically in control of Lebanon, to a major nuisance, fighting a rearguard battle for its position in Beirut and in the south. And Israel’s air force exposed the supreme vulnerability of Iran’s most-defended sites.

In Cairo, Amman, Riyadh, Abu Dhabi, and Rabat, Arab leaders could not afford to infuriate their populaces by openly celebrating the dramatic weakening of their regional deadly enemies and giving Israel the well-deserved credit for inflicting the required blows. However, they know that sustainable Israeli resilience, strategic power, determination, and tenacity in the struggle against common radical enemies are indispensable for their own regional welfare, sometimes even their existence. Whereas America is immeasurably more powerful, Israel, in their experience, is an infinitely more trustworthy and dependable partner in this ongoing struggle.