Leaders of Germany’s Jewish community recently met with Chancellor Angela Merkel to express their fears that the waves of migrants streaming into Germany are bringing anti-Semitism with them. Elliott Abrams comments:

It’s a fact that the terrorist attacks against European Jews in recent years have been made by Muslims, all with North African backgrounds except for Amedy Coulibaly, who murdered four Jews at a kosher grocery in Paris in January; he was from a Malian Muslim family. So it’s not a great surprise that the arrival of very many more immigrants from countries where hatred of Jews is rife would give rise to fears in Jewish communities. It is difficult to know what should be done in the face of the risk of more and more anti-Semitic violence, which has already made Jewish life dangerous in many European cities. . . .

The general position of Jewish communities over the decades has been pro-immigration, welcoming refugees. Today some of those communities are wondering whether they are going to see the dangers facing Jewish life increase. If [it is true that] when refugees cannot be integrated well there is a great risk of exacerbating tensions with non-Muslim communities, the future will almost certainly be even more difficult for the Jews of Europe.

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.