Berlin’s sprawling Memorial for the Murdered Jews of Europe consists of over 2,000 gray stone rectangles without any sort of enclosure, signs, or plaques. On one side there is a row of restaurants and postcard shops known in the German press as “Holocaust Beach.” Finding the monument an ideal place for all sorts of activities, visitors not surprisingly begin uploading photographs of themselves engaged in sunbathing, picnicking, calisthenics, and stunts. The Israeli-born Berlin resident Shahak Shapiro created a website merging these photos with actual pictures from the Holocaust. Amy Newman Smith comments:

Much has been made of the striking images: a young woman in workout gear demonstrating her strength and flexibility is paired with twisted bodies piled up in a concentration-camp building, the doorframe replacing the stele she was balanced against, her feet in the air. A man kneeling, juggling bright pink balls, is transported from the memorial to a burial pit. . . .

In part because a visitor can enter the Berlin memorial from any side, there is nothing in the way of preparation or guidance as to what, if anything, it should mean. There is an information center (which, as it happens, [the monument’s architect] Peter Eisenman strenuously resisted), but it is tucked underground, and few visitors ever make it there. . . . Care has been taken, however, to post signs warning of pickpockets.

Time is, of course, picking memory’s pocket, pilfering public memories of the Shoah, even among the Germans, even among the Jews. Memorials remain, unmoved and unchanged by this inevitable erosion of memory. Think, for instance, of the emotional impact of the Lincoln Memorial upon most of its present-day visitors. How many truly feel the rupture of that conflict, fought over the fates of four million slaves and leaving more than 620,000 dead?

Shapira’s close attention to our present-day language and behavior offers one possible way forward: Holocaust Beach and [selfie-taking, video-game playing] museum visitors themselves become part of the exhibit. Part of the brilliance of Shapira’s ephemeral digital creation is that it allows us the space to think about thoughtlessness.

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.