In 1458, the kingdom of Sicily (which included both the island itself and a portion of southern Italy) became part of the kingdom of Aragon, which then merged with Castile to create Spain in its present form. This newly united country forcibly expelled its Jewish population in 1492, an edict that was applied to its Italian territories as well. Now, the area is seeing a Jewish revival, in part a result of the reconversion of locals who believe themselves descended from converted Jews. Joshua Marks reports on the small but growing community of Catania, Sicily’s second city:

The Comunità Ebraica di Catania opened [its] synagogue in 2022 in Castello della Leucatia (Ghost Castle), a building constructed in 1911 in the northern district of Canalicchio, which since 2001 has been home to a municipal library and auditorium. The municipality purchased the building in 1960.

According to popular legend, a wealthy Jewish merchant established the castle as a wedding gift for his daughter, Angelina Mioccios, who rejected the arranged marriage and committed suicide by jumping from its tower. The Stars of David located along the battlements of the towers appear to confirm the Jewish origins.

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.