The left-wing British parliamentarian George Galloway has for several years represented the majority-Pakistani electoral district of Bradford West, where he has built a constituency based on his alliances with local clans and his longstanding record of hatred for Israel. Last summer, he declared Bradford West an “Israel Free-Zone.” Ben Judah visited the district and met with members of Galloway’s staff, who invited him to attend a rally the next day:

A . . . press officer for Respect [Galloway’s party], comes up to me: “Who are you, I recognize your face?”

I tell her my full name, Ben Judah. Her face sours. . . . A few months ago I had reported from the city for a Jewish online publication, and had been critical of Galloway’s anti-Zionist rhetoric. I reported that he has inflamed a hissing conspiracy theory where Jews were blamed for 9/11, for all wars all over the world, and were seen as the new Nazis.

The woman from Respect does not approve. I inform her that Respect’s Bradford headquarters has given me the address and told me I could come. She then disappears, makes calls, and talks to several of the Asian men at the doorway. She returns saying I have to leave. I try to explain I am a journalist and this risks looking bad for a party that is frequently accused of inciting anti-Semitism and intimidating journalists. . . .

The press officer—whose name I miss—says she has called Bradford HQ and they now “know who I am”: I must leave immediately.

I walk out and onto the sidewalk, and take a picture of the Respect activists and the seven Asian men milling about outside the church. They have come to see Galloway. The event is described on social media as a rally for supporters.

A burly Asian man in a black suit and sunglasses rushes up and grabs me around the neck, pinning me to a low perimeter wall. “Get out, you fucking Jew,” he shouts. I am being throttled as around ten Asian men surround me. My teeth chatter as a man in a tracksuit punches me in the head.

“Delete, delete,” they shout at me. “Delete the photos.”

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.