Here at Mosaic, we often cover recent archaeological discoveries in Israel, which can be quite astonishing. But I’ve also learned to be a little weary of breathlessly described artifacts that sound a bit too good to be true. That was my instinct a year ago with the discovery of an ancient miniature tablet thought to be inscribed with Hebrew curses evoking the biblical name of God. A new study throws some cold water on the find’s significance, writes Nathan Steinmeyer:

The “tablet” is a piece of folded lead, measuring less than one inch square. Found during sifting of previously excavated soil taken from the West Bank site of Mount Ebal near Nablus, the tiny piece of lead was said to include a 48-letter inscription. . . . According to Amihai Mazar, professor emeritus of archaeology at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem, the lead tablet is likely nothing more than a common fishing-net weight. Such objects were widely used in the ancient Mediterranean and were frequently made from lead during the Late Bronze Age II (ca. 1400–1200 BCE), the period to which the Mount Ebal tablet supposedly dates.

Although it remains uncertain how a fishing implement would have ended up in the rugged central hill country of the southern Levant, many such weights have been uncovered in funerary contexts, suggesting they could have a ritual and symbolic as well as practical function.

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.