Reviewing a new, comprehensive account of the philosopher Benedict Spinoza’s life, thought, and intellectual legacy by the historian Jonathan Israel, J.J. Kimche finds it a work of “remarkable scope, granularity, and analytical depth.” The book, Kimche observes, adheres to a thesis Israel has stated repeatedly over the course of his career about the “centrality and lasting impact of what he terms the ‘radical enlightenment.’” The “radical thinkers” who belonged to this movement

sought to uproot all prevailing norms regarding religion, science, politics, freedom, and the relationship between individual and state. In Israel’s account, it was to this uncompromising intellectual tradition, which demanded nothing less than the wholesale reorientation of humanity from superstition to reason, that we owe the benefits of modern democracy, liberty, science, and human rights. At the apex of this tradition, which Israel venerates as the true genesis of modern civilization, he places the renegade Jew.

Spinoza, “the renegade Jew,” might not deserve quite so much credit in Kimche’s estimation:

Yes, it is perfectly true that numerous important modern intellectuals—such as Goethe, Shelley, George Eliot, and Einstein—lauded Spinoza and acknowledged his foundational influence. Yet it is equally correct to note that the history of modern philosophy constitutes an extensive rebellion against Spinoza’s austere, omniscient rationality.

A more balanced assessment of Spinoza’s legacy, therefore, must note that the Western tradition has decided against his particular brand of relentless rationalism, and has recognized that a satisfactory account of religion, ethics, and politics must include other modes of understanding. It is in this light that even the religious traditionalist could develop an appreciation of Spinoza—when he is read as one important voice in the polyphonic ensemble of ideas that gave rise to the principles and institutions that permit the creation of a harmonious society. Rationality, when tempered by the empirical, aesthetic, sentimental, and numinous facets of the human experience, is indeed indispensable to human flourishing.

Concluded in 1979, the Israeli-Egyptian peace treaty ended nearly 30 years of intermittent warfare, and proved one of the most enduring and beneficial products of Middle East diplomacy. But Egypt may not have been upholding its end of the bargain, write Jonathan Schanzer and Mariam Wahba:

Article III, subsection two of the peace agreement’s preamble explicitly requires both parties “to ensure that that acts or threats of belligerency, hostility, or violence do not originate from and are not committed from within its territory.” This clause also mandates both parties to hold accountable any perpetrators of such acts.

Recent Israeli operations along the Philadelphi Corridor, the narrow strip of land bordering Egypt and Gaza, have uncovered multiple tunnels and access points used by Hamas—some in plain sight of Egyptian guard towers. While it could be argued that Egypt has lacked the capacity to tackle this problem, it is equally plausible that it lacks the will. Either way, it’s a serious problem.

Was Egypt motivated by money, amidst a steep and protracted economic decline in recent years? Did Cairo get paid off by Hamas, or its wealthy patron, Qatar? Did the Iranians play a role? Was Egypt threatened with violence and unrest by the Sinai’s Bedouin Union of Tribes, who are the primary profiteers of smuggling, if it did not allow the tunnels to operate? Or did the Sisi regime take part in this operation because of an ideological hatred of Israel?