In a cave near the Dead Sea, Israeli researchers recently found a narrow fissure that concealed a Roman spear and four swords, dating to the 1st or 2nd century CE. They are thought to have been used during the Bar Kokhba revolt against Rome, which lasted from 132 to 135 CE. Melanie Lidman explains their significance:

“We’re talking about an extremely rare find, the likes of which have never been found in Israel,” Eitan Klein, one of the directors of the Israel Antiquities Authority’s Judean Desert Survey, said. . . . “Four swords amazingly preserved, including the fine condition of the metal, the handles, and the scabbards.”

Three of the swords are Roman spatha swords, with blades 60 to 65 centimeters (23.5 to 25.5 inches) long. The fourth weapon, a ring-pommel sword, is shorter, with a 45-centimeter (18-inch) blade. The swords likely belonged to Roman soldiers and were stolen by Judean rebels who hid them in a cave either for later use or to avoid being caught with them.

Following the discovery of the swords, archaeologists carried out an extensive excavation of the cave, discovering artifacts from the Chalcolithic period (around 6,000 years ago) and the Roman period (around 2,000 years ago). At the entrance to the cave, researchers found a Bar Kokhba bronze coin from the time of the revolt that could help pinpoint the dates when the weapons were hidden.

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.