Most European countries expelled their Jews at some point, usually between the 13th and 16th centuries. But Poland remained one of the most notable exceptions up until 1968, when the Six-Day War, tensions within the Communist party, and student unrest combined to lead the country’s rulers to inaugurate an “anti-Zionist” campaign. No formal edict of expulsion was ever issued, but more than half of the Jewish population left Poland by 1970. Tom Sawicki reviews a recent Polish film, March 1968, depicting these events:

Against the backdrop of newfound love between two young people, the movie presents the account of the events that led to the expulsion from Poland, where I was born and grew up, of some 13,000 Jews, including my family—practically the last remnants of the community that numbered 3.3 million before the Holocaust—and in many cases ethnic Poles married to Jews, for their alleged “Zionist” activities.

The June 1967 Israeli victory created an excuse for an anti-Semitic, or rather “anti-Zionist” campaign in Poland which, following Moscow’s example, broke off diplomatic and all other relations with Israel. Subsequently, over the next few months, most Poles of “Jewish descent” who occupied senior and even mid-level positions in academia, medicine, the country’s economic and intellectual life, and other fields, were dismissed from work. The pretext was their “Zionist activities” coupled with “imperialist tendencies.” In the movie you witness what happens to a family that is left without a source of income and what choices remained for them. You also see that many Poles were more than happy to take part in the anti-Semitic campaign.

Different scenes reminded me of the time when the principal of my high school, Director Redlich (who was of Jewish descent), was replaced by a party apparatchik, and of the time when my chemistry teacher said that “now the Jews will not rule over us.” And I, knowing that my family will soon leave Poland, bravely called her in front of the entire class a “filthy anti-Semite” and for this, she gave me two F’s, which would have prevented my graduating had we remained in Poland.

On Tuesday, a Hizballah drone attack injured three people in northern Israel. The next day, another attack, targeting an IDF base, injured eighteen people, six of them seriously, in Arab al-Amshe, also in the north. This second attack involved the simultaneous use of drones carrying explosives and guided antitank missiles. In both cases, the defensive systems that performed so successfully last weekend failed to stop the drones and missiles. Ron Ben-Yishai has a straightforward explanation as to why: the Lebanon-backed terrorist group is getting better at evading Israel defenses. He explains the three basis systems used to pilot these unmanned aircraft, and their practical effects:

These systems allow drones to act similarly to fighter jets, using “dead zones”—areas not visible to radar or other optical detection—to approach targets. They fly low initially, then ascend just before crashing and detonating on the target. The terrain of southern Lebanon is particularly conducive to such attacks.

But this requires skills that the terror group has honed over months of fighting against Israel. The latest attacks involved a large drone capable of carrying over 50 kg (110 lbs.) of explosives. The terrorists have likely analyzed Israel’s alert and interception systems, recognizing that shooting down their drones requires early detection to allow sufficient time for launching interceptors.

The IDF tries to detect any incoming drones on its radar, as it had done prior to the war. Despite Hizballah’s learning curve, the IDF’s technological edge offers an advantage. However, the military must recognize that any measure it takes is quickly observed and analyzed, and even the most effective defenses can be incomplete. The terrain near the Lebanon-Israel border continues to pose a challenge, necessitating technological solutions and significant financial investment.