Two of Yitzḥak Rabin’s grandchildren spoke at a memorial service for their grandfather, held in Jerusalem on Sunday, the Hebrew-calendar anniversary of his assassination. For both, the occasion offered a chance to issue veiled and not-so-veiled attacks on the current prime minister—who was in attendance—and the Likud in general. Liel Leibovitz comments:

[Rabin’s granddaughter, Noa] Rothman, wasn’t content merely portraying Israel as a close cousin of Enver Hoxha’s Albania; looking straight at Benjamin Netanyahu, she accused an unnamed spokeswoman at his office of recently tweeting a photograph of Rabin shaking Yasir Arafat’s hand with a caption accusing the slain statesman of treason.

It’s a common theme among the Virtuous Vanguards of Tel Aviv. Ask any Israeli journalist, academic, or intellectual who killed Rabin, and they’ll tell you that while Yigal Amir pulled the trigger, it was Netanyahu who made the murder possible by inciting his followers to see Rabin as a traitor. That Netanyahu himself was caught on camera on one well-documented occasion beseeching the crowd at a large demonstration in Jerusalem to refrain from using the T word, or that he had asked Rabin, shortly before the assassination, to issue a joint statement calling for civility—an offer Rabin refused—hardly matters. Nor did it matter to Rothman that the alleged spokeswoman was not a government employee but an independent journalist, or that her tweet was a clearly marked bit of satire. But, again, why let facts get in a way of a really good story? . . .

Rabin’s assassination is one of very few national symbols most Israelis still cherish, irrespective of their political opinion. It is seen as a perpetual call for national unity, a legacy that helped keep Israeli society cohesive even as his successors, including Ehud Barak, Ehud Olmert, and Ariel Sharon, continued to make painful territorial concessions in the face of rising Palestinian violence. In their ugly, divisive, and vicious comments yesterday, Rabin’s grandchildren sacrificed all that for the sake of settling cheap partisan scores. What a blessing it is that most Israelis know better.

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.