Established in 1946 when funding for medical research was scarce, the Lasker award has gone to innovators ranging from Jonas Salk and Florence Sabin to Katalin Karikó and Drew Weissman, who pioneered the mRNA vaccine. Susan Hertog tells the story of Albert and Mary Lasker, whose contribution to the science of medicine went far beyond the prize:

Albert was born in 1880 and raised in the then-backwater town of Galveston, Texas. His father, Morris Lasker, a punitive and dominating man, was a German Jewish refugee who had earned wealth and prominence by riding the coattails of the Civil War railways, converting his local flour mill into a national commodity.

It was clear to Albert, even as a child, that he must conform to his father’s wishes or leave home. At twelve, Albert started a newspaper; at sixteen, he quit school; and, after a stint reporting for small Southern newspapers, he was ready to trade its drudgery for big-league journalism. . . . Morris Lasker, declaring journalism a stain on the family name, offered Albert a deal. He would secure his son a job in advertising, an “honest” profession, and perhaps, in time, reconsider. It was a small victory, but a ticket out. Certain that he could beat his father at the game, Albert vowed never to return.

In a twist that neither father nor son could have foreseen, advertising sales became Albert’s career—indeed, he revolutionized the industry.

In 1940, Albert married Mary Woodward, a Wisconsin Protestant whose family traced its lineage back to the Mayflower. Following World War II, the couple devoted themselves to funding and raising money for medical research, and, in Mary’s case, lobbying for government investment in the same.

Ron Ben-Yishai, reporting from a visit to IDF forces in the Gaza Strip, analyzes the state of the fighting, and “the persistent challenge of eradicating an entrenched enemy in a complex urban terrain.”

Hamas, sensing the war’s end, is mounting a final effort to inflict casualties. The IDF now controls 65 percent of Gaza’s territory operationally, with observation, fire dominance, and relative freedom of movement, alongside systematic tunnel destruction. . . . Major P, a reserve company commander, says, “It’s frustrating to hear at home that we’re stagnating. The public doesn’t get that if we stop, Hamas will recover.”

Senior IDF officers cite two reasons for the slow progress: meticulous care to protect hostages, requiring cautious movement and constant intelligence gathering, and avoiding heavy losses, with 22 soldiers killed since June.

Two-and-a-half of Hamas’s five brigades have been dismantled, yet a new hostage deal and IDF withdrawal could allow Hamas to regroup. . . . Hamas is at its lowest military and governing point since its founding, reduced to a fragmented guerrilla force. Yet, without complete disarmament and infrastructure destruction, it could resurge as a threat in years.

At the same time, Ben-Yishai observes, not everything hangs on the IDF:

According to the Southern Command chief Major General Yaron Finkelman, the IDF is close to completing its objectives. In classical military terms, “defeat” means the enemy surrenders—but with a jihadist organization, the benchmark is its ability to operate against Israel.

Despite [the IDF’s] battlefield successes, the broader strategic outcome—especially regarding the hostages—now hinges on decisions from the political leadership. “We’ve done our part,” said a senior officer. “We’ve reached a crossroads where the government must decide where it wants to go—both on the hostage issue and on Gaza’s future.”