In the Hebrew Bible, elders and judges are often described as sitting at the city gate, a location that evidently functioned as a sort of public square. The recent discovery of one such structure from the putative era of Abraham stands to change historians’ perspective on urban life in ancient Israel, as Melanie Lidman writes:

Archaeologists have uncovered the oldest known gate in Israel, a 5,500-year-old imposing stone and mud-brick passageway to the ancient city of Tel Erani, the Israel Antiquities Authority announced Tuesday. The gate’s discovery near the central city of Kiryat Gat has forced archaeologists to reconsider when urbanization began in the region, now saying it was likely centuries earlier than previously believed.

The ancient city of Tel Erani is one of the first examples of urbanization in Israel. Around 150 dunams (150,000 square meters or 37 acres), it was settled in the Early Bronze Period, starting around 3,300 BCE, and abandoned at the end of the Early Bronze Period, around 2,500 BCE.

At Tel Erani, archaeologists have uncovered evidence of urbanization, including public buildings, city planning such as streets and fortification walls, a possible drainage system, and “social stratification,” meaning that some people had nicer homes than others, based on their status.

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.