Michelangelo Buonarotti’s sculpture of Moses is probably the most famous artistic depiction of the Israelite lawgiver and prophet. It also embodies one of the most famous biblical mistranslations. In Exodus 34, the Torah states of Moses that, after descending from Sinai, “the skin of his face shone [karan].” The similarity between the verb meaning “shine” and the word for “horn” (keren) led to St. Jerome’s Latin Bible, and translations based on it, stating that Moses’ face was “horned.” Hence the two protrusions from the head of Michelangelo’s statue.

But Daniel Lispon suggests that the idea of Moses’ horns actually can be traced to an earlier Jewish tradition, as evidenced by a now-forgotten liturgical poem, or piyyut, for the holiday of Shavuot:

The piyyut was written in ancient Aramaic in the dialect of the Land of Israel, and it incorporated Greek words as well. The language and structure of the piyyut date it to the era of the Byzantine empire before the Muslim conquest, but according to the scholar Joseph Heinemann, it is based on a folk song, handed down orally from much earlier.

The piyyut opens with the words Arkin Hashem sh’maya l’Sinai (“God bent Heaven to Sinai”), later describing God as placing rays of glory on Moses’ head. So far, so good in aligning with the biblical text. But then, towards the end of the piyyut, the angels appear before God and are afraid of Moses, as they claim he might gore or headbutt them.

It may be that this combination of Moses’ physical description (the Hebrew wording being open to interpretation) with his supposed ability to headbutt or gore someone (possibly based on a common, popular understanding which arose during this period), is responsible for creating the image of Moses as actually having horns on his head.

The art scholar Malka Rosenthal showed that Moses appeared with horns in Jewish literary illustrations as well. A number of books published in the German city of Fürth between 1741 and 1750 show the figures of Moses and Aharon on the cover, with Moses holding a staff and tablets while a pair of horns appear on his head.

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.”