In a practice popularly known as “the lottery of the Vilna Gaon,” a sage poses a question and then opens a Torah or Hebrew Bible seven times at random. A verse on the final page to be opened is then taken as an omen, and interpreted as an answer to the question. While the attribution of this rite to the 18th-century Rabbi Elijah Kramer of Vilna is mistaken, writes Shraga Bar-On, it does date back several centuries, and has even more ancient precursors:

Based on [the 1st-century-CE historian] Josephus’ account, it would seem that diligent study of the words of the prophets assisted the Essene seers in soothsaying. Use of the Torah as a tool of divination can also be found in the books of Maccabees. . . . [In talmudic literature], too, use of verses from the Torah [in this fashion] was quite common. One of the most prominent techniques, . . . involves asking a child to recite the verse he happens to be studying; the child then quotes the verse, which is regarded as having divinatory power. . . .

At times, a biblical book or verse appears as [an] omen within a different prophetic medium—namely, a dream—or alternatively springs to a person’s mind upon waking up: “If one rises early and a Scriptural verse comes to his mouth, this is a kind of minor prophecy” (Babylonian Talmud, Brakhot 55b and elsewhere). At other times, the verse does not appear in the dream itself but can be used to interpret the dream. . . .

[Even Bible] commentators and Jewish legists with a sharply rationalistic orientation . . . accorded bibliomancy exceptional status. Moses Maimonides (1138-1204), the most outspoken opponent of magic, astrology, and divination, himself ruled that “if one asks a child, ‘What verse are you learning?’ and he responds with a verse from [Moses’] blessings [of the Israelites], it is permitted for one to rejoice and say, ‘That is a lucky sign.’” Still, he limited the power of the omen to revealing information about events already in the past and to situations where receiving the sign would not lead to any sort of practical course of action.

When he called upon Hamas to end the war and release the hostages last week, the Palestinian Authority president Mahmoud Abbas was also getting ready for a reshuffle within his regime. On Saturday, he appointed Hussein al-Sheikh deputy president of the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO), which is intimately tied to the PA itself. Al-Sheikh would therefore succeed Abbas—who is eighty-nine and reportedly in ill health—as head of the PLO if he should die or become incapacitated, and be positioned to succeed him as head of the PA as well.

Al-Sheikh spent eleven years in an Israeli prison and, writes Maurice Hirsch, was involved in planning a 2002 Jerusalem suicide bombing that killed three. Moreover, Hirsch writes, he “does not enjoy broad Palestinian popularity or support.”

Still, by appointing Al-Sheikh, Abbas has taken a step in the internal reforms he inaugurated last year in the hope that he could prove to the Biden administration and other relevant players that the PA was up to the task of governing the Gaza Strip. Neomi Neumann writes:

Abbas’s motivation for reform also appears rooted in the need to meet the expectations of Arab and European donors without compromising his authority. On April 14, the EU foreign-policy chief Kaja Kallas approved a three-year aid package worth 1.6 billion euros, including 620 million euros in direct budget support tied to reforms. Meanwhile, the French president Emmanuel Macron held a call with Abbas [earlier this month] and noted afterward that reforms are essential for the PA to be seen as a viable governing authority for Gaza—a telling remark given reports that Paris may soon recognize “the state of Palestine.”

In some cases, reforms appear targeted at specific regional partners. The idea of appointing a vice-president originated with Saudi Arabia.

In the near term, Abbas’s main goal appears to be preserving Arab and European support ahead of a major international conference in New York this June.