In a phone call yesterday, President Biden urged Benjamin Netanyahu to increase the amount of humanitarian aid allowed to flow into Gaza “immediately and significantly”—this after Israel reopened water pipelines and took other similar steps. Pnina Sharvit Baruch and Tammy Caner examine the actual obligations the Jewish state bears toward the people of Gaza according to international law:

Gaza is no longer an occupied territory under Israeli control. . . . Thus, Israel has no legal obligation to ensure or provide actively for the needs of the civilian population in the Gaza Strip derived from the law of occupation. This includes water and electricity.

Israel is bound by some basic humanitarian obligations toward the civilian population in Gaza under rules of the laws of armed conflict that pertain to obligations toward the enemy’s civilian population. However, these obligations are of a limited scope.

Despite the statement by Defense Minister Yoav Gallant immediately after the murderous attack by Hamas and in the midst of battles against Hamas terrorists on Israeli territory that no supplies will enter the Gaza Strip, it is not at all clear that Israel’s policy toward the Gaza Strip amounts to a siege, as opposed to a wide-ranging closure of the area.

In any case—whether a siege or a wide-ranging closure—the restrictions imposed by Israel are intended to prevent the introduction of weapons and supplies to Hamas and other terrorist organizations, and therefore, they are legal.

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.