According to a recent report by a Palestinian news agency, the Palestinian Authority (PA) regularly employs various forms of torture at its detention centers. But, writes Elliott Abrams, many normally so solicitous of Palestinian wellbeing, and abnormally so alert to alleged Israeli misbehavior, have kept silent:

This is not the first time such allegations have been made against both Hamas and the Palestinian Authority. What’s worth noting is the reaction from Washington and among the donors to the PA: silence. And what’s even more noteworthy is the reaction from the innumerable groups attacking Israel for human-rights violations: more silence. Such abuses, which would arouse a global round of denunciations if Israel acted this way, arouse yawns when committed by the PA.

There are some lessons here. One, as noted, is that official Palestinian human-rights abuses get next to zero attention. Another lesson is that this immunity carries a price—and the price is paid by Palestinians. Instead of evolving steadily toward a more democratic political system that respects human rights, the Palestinian system has stalled. There are no elections, there are widespread human-rights abuses, there are few or no corrective mechanisms, and there is global indifference. Governments and organizations that say they want to help build peace in the Middle East should realize that withholding criticism of the PA . . . is not a way forward. It is a guarantee that . . . conditions in the West Bank will continue to deteriorate.

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.