Looking carefully at Salman Rushdie’s 1988 The Satanic Verses, Hussein Ibish argues that “no reader could come away with the idea that the novel was attempting to tell the tale of the birth of Islam or critique the religion.” What then, explains the price put on Rushdie’s head by the Iranian dictator Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini, which provoked his recent stabbing? Ibish answers:

Chapter 11 of the novel paints a stinging and remarkably incisive caricature of Khomeini himself. It depicts “the Imam”—a fanatical cleric forced to live in the West, just as Khomeini was when he was exiled to France after being expelled from Iraq by Saddam Hussein. Among the many absurdities of this character is that he wants to stop time, an obvious parody of Khomeini’s passionate hatred of progress and modernity.

It is hard to imagine a more precise and stinging lampoon of Khomeini and his malevolent mission. There’s more besides in chapter 11 about the Imam character that would have caused Khomeini additional, and indeed greater, personal offence and outrage. He and his followers were certainly well aware of it when they decided the author had to die. Of course, they claimed to be responding to an attack “against Islam, the prophet of Islam, and the Quran.” But there is no doubt it was, above all, about the wounded ego of a man anointing himself a “supreme leader.”

That Khomeini and his followers recognized him and his fanatical regime in the character of the Imam—and then acted precisely according to monstrous type in 1989 and ever since—tells us everything we need to know about their ongoing addiction to violence and hostility to creativity and freedom of thought. . . . Rushdie’s attacker is unlikely to see any of the promised millions. But Iranian gloating confirms who is responsible for this heinous attack.

At the moment, the U.S. government is considering whether to extend billions of dollars of sanctions relief to the Islamic Republic as part of a revived nuclear deal.

Concluded in 1979, the Israeli-Egyptian peace treaty ended nearly 30 years of intermittent warfare, and proved one of the most enduring and beneficial products of Middle East diplomacy. But Egypt may not have been upholding its end of the bargain, write Jonathan Schanzer and Mariam Wahba:

Article III, subsection two of the peace agreement’s preamble explicitly requires both parties “to ensure that that acts or threats of belligerency, hostility, or violence do not originate from and are not committed from within its territory.” This clause also mandates both parties to hold accountable any perpetrators of such acts.

Recent Israeli operations along the Philadelphi Corridor, the narrow strip of land bordering Egypt and Gaza, have uncovered multiple tunnels and access points used by Hamas—some in plain sight of Egyptian guard towers. While it could be argued that Egypt has lacked the capacity to tackle this problem, it is equally plausible that it lacks the will. Either way, it’s a serious problem.

Was Egypt motivated by money, amidst a steep and protracted economic decline in recent years? Did Cairo get paid off by Hamas, or its wealthy patron, Qatar? Did the Iranians play a role? Was Egypt threatened with violence and unrest by the Sinai’s Bedouin Union of Tribes, who are the primary profiteers of smuggling, if it did not allow the tunnels to operate? Or did the Sisi regime take part in this operation because of an ideological hatred of Israel?