Lisa Schwartzbaum describes a recent Jewish “heritage tour” in Central Europe that visited various cities along the Danube River and explored their Jewish past and present. On her stay in the cities of Bratislava and Vienna, she writes:

[Bratislava’s] mournful Jewish centerpiece is the underground mausoleum of the rabbi and sage Moshe Schreiber (1762-1839), known as Hatam Sofer. The cemetery in which he was buried—itself built atop a 17th-century Jewish graveyard—was upended during and after World War II. But the rabbi’s tomb survived, along with the graves of some twenty other rabbis, albeit shut away under a concrete tunnel.

The site was reconstructed and rededicated in 2002, in all its gloomy, claustrophobic, end-of-the-line pathos. The old Jewish neighborhood, meanwhile, was smashed decades ago by Communist construction—ugly in intention and result. There are very few Jews and an army of shadows in this exhausted Slovakian city. . . .

[The next day], we were in Vienna, as rigorously stately and aloof in its elegance as Bratislava is exasperated and down at the heel. Ah, Vienna, where vanished Jewish life leaves a uniquely conflicted legacy, a mixture of pride and humiliation, sophistication and hurt.

At the bright, modern Jewish Museum Vienna, visitors’ bags and passports were examined with grim concentration. But then, at Vienna’s main synagogue, . . . our crowd had the great luck to arrive in time for a Thursday bar mitzvah. The young man was from a Bukharan family—immigrants from Eastern Europe, Russia, and former Soviet republics are the last best hope for restocking Jewish places of worship in the region—and we were thrilled to join in the traditional pelting of the bar-mitzvah boy with a volley of little candies. Later, the clan’s granny broke away from a family celebration in the synagogue vestibule to offer us slices of sweet melon.

On Tuesday, a Hizballah drone attack injured three people in northern Israel. The next day, another attack, targeting an IDF base, injured eighteen people, six of them seriously, in Arab al-Amshe, also in the north. This second attack involved the simultaneous use of drones carrying explosives and guided antitank missiles. In both cases, the defensive systems that performed so successfully last weekend failed to stop the drones and missiles. Ron Ben-Yishai has a straightforward explanation as to why: the Lebanon-backed terrorist group is getting better at evading Israel defenses. He explains the three basis systems used to pilot these unmanned aircraft, and their practical effects:

These systems allow drones to act similarly to fighter jets, using “dead zones”—areas not visible to radar or other optical detection—to approach targets. They fly low initially, then ascend just before crashing and detonating on the target. The terrain of southern Lebanon is particularly conducive to such attacks.

But this requires skills that the terror group has honed over months of fighting against Israel. The latest attacks involved a large drone capable of carrying over 50 kg (110 lbs.) of explosives. The terrorists have likely analyzed Israel’s alert and interception systems, recognizing that shooting down their drones requires early detection to allow sufficient time for launching interceptors.

The IDF tries to detect any incoming drones on its radar, as it had done prior to the war. Despite Hizballah’s learning curve, the IDF’s technological edge offers an advantage. However, the military must recognize that any measure it takes is quickly observed and analyzed, and even the most effective defenses can be incomplete. The terrain near the Lebanon-Israel border continues to pose a challenge, necessitating technological solutions and significant financial investment.