Much as the members of organization like Jewish Voice for Peace help to promote libelous claims that Israel is committing genocide, the Frankists—a heterodox messianist Jewish sect of 18th-century Poland—testified at Jesuits’ behest that their fellow Jews used the blood of Christian children in the rites of Passover. In 1759, church leaders organized a public disputation in the city of Lemberg (modern-day Lviv) between Frankists and a prominent rabbi about the veracity of the claim.

Playing a key role in that disputation was Ber Birkenthal of Bolechów, a Jewish wine merchant who, unusually, possessed a command of both Polish and German and a familiarity with secular literature—skills that he used to help the rabbi in preparing his case. The late Gershon Hundert, a towering historian of Polish Jewry, discusses Ber’s remarkable career and writings, and his own quest to uncover Ber’s story, with Nachi Weinstein. Hundert died on October 27; this conversation, recorded a few months ago, has been released posthumously.

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.