A very large portion of the fighting force that the IDF has deployed is made up of reservists, who pursue a host of different careers in their civilian lives. For one such reservist, Lieutenant-Colonel Yair Amitsur, his nonmilitary training proved useful when he and a fellow reserve officer came across a large bowl-shaped item in the staging ground just outside Gaza, which he recognized as an ancient mortar. Judy Siegel-Itzkovich reports:

Amitsur, the commander of the civilian frontline in Division 143, and Major Eliashiv Buhbut discovered the tool made of basalt, which weighs more than ten kilograms. . . . Amitsur, who ordinarily is an IAA archaeologist, immediately recognized that it was an ancient grinding tool.

“Black-colored basalt is familiar from the north of the country as in Tiberias or Safed, or from other remote areas,” Amitsur explained. “It was clear to me that the tool we found was brought here from afar and was probably used in the past in the home of one of the residents of the area to grind grain or other products, which is done with a heavy pestle. We were excited to . . . receive a greeting from the past and engage in some good news. The tool reminds us that throughout the generations, the Western Negev served as a significant settlement area where a variety of cultures settled. There were also wars in the past, but in the end, settlement always returned, and the area again flourished,” he added.

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.