On the opening night of the Republican National Convention, Harmeet Kaur Dhillon offered a traditional Sikh prayer, provoking criticism from some, mostly online, corners of the right. (Perhaps the most fervent attack came from the anti-Semitic social-media personality Nick Fuentes.) As Jack Jenkins points out, Dhillon did the same at the 2016 convention, as did another Sikh in 2012. Jenkins then turns to the first Jew to lead prayers at a party convention:

The tradition of including non-Christian voices at the major party conventions goes back more than a century at least, to an invocation given by Rabbi Samuel Sale, of St. Louis, when the Republican convention was held there in 1896. Sale’s appearance, according to a New York Times report from the time, was the result of a political compromise: the Republican Party’s Catholic and Protestant factions were so bitterly opposed to each other that a rabbi was a safer choice than a pastor or a priest from either Christian tradition.

Sale, who was known for advocating for a “universal day of rest” in the way of the Jewish Sabbath, said in his prayer, “Fill us with a deep and abiding sense of the transcendent dignity and nobility of American citizenship and of the sacred obligations that should attend it. . . .”

Four years later, Democrats called on a rabbi at their convention as well, and ever since, rabbis have been regular guests at gatherings for both parties.

Even if the agreement with Hamas to secure the release of some, and possibly all, of the remaining hostages—and the bodies of those no longer alive—is a prudent decision for Israel, it comes at a very high price: potentially leaving Hamas in control of Gaza and the release of vast numbers of Palestinian prisoners, many with blood on their hands. Nadav Shragai reminds us of the history of such agreements:

We cannot forget that the terrorists released in the Jibril deal during the summer of 1985 became the backbone of the first intifada, resulting in the murder of 165 Israelis. Approximately half of the terrorists released following the Oslo Accords joined Palestinian terror groups, with many participating in the second intifada that claimed 1,178 Israeli lives. Those freed in [exchange for Gilad Shalit in 2011] constructed Gaza, the world’s largest terror city, and brought about the October 7 massacre. We must ask ourselves: where will those released in the 2025 hostage deal lead us?

Taking these painful concessions into account Michael Oren argues that they might nonetheless be necessary:

From day one—October 7, 2023—Israel’s twin goals in Gaza were fundamentally irreconcilable. Israel could not, as its leaders pledged, simultaneously destroy Hamas and secure all of the hostages’ release. The terrorists who regarded the hostages as the key to their survival would hardly give them up for less than an Israeli commitment to end—and therefore lose—the war. Israelis, for their part, were torn between those who felt that they could not send their children to the army so long as hostages remained in captivity and those who held that, if Hamas wins, Israel will not have an army at all.

While 33 hostages will be released in the first stage, dozens—alive and dead—will remain in Gaza, prolonging their families’ suffering. The relatives of those killed by the Palestinian terrorists now going free will also be shattered. So, too, will the Israelis who still see soldiers dying in Gaza almost daily while Hamas rocket fire continues. What were all of Israel’s sacrifices for, they will ask. . . .

Perhaps this outcome was unavoidable from the beginning. Perhaps the deal is the only way of reconciling Israel’s mutually exclusive goals of annihilating Hamas and repatriating the hostages. Perhaps, despite Israel’s subsequent military triumph, this is the price for the failures of October 7.