In a now-famous 1964 essay, the great American Jewish sage Joseph B. Soloveitchik sought to put firm limits on interfaith dialogue, encouraging social and civic engagement with followers of other religions while forbidding open-ended efforts to find theological common ground. When Yitzchok Adlerstein, after a career as an Orthodox rabbi and educator, began engaging in conversations with priests, pastors, and imams on behalf of the Simon Wiesenthal center, his main goal was to advance the good of the Jewish people and the Jewish state. This remains his “first and foremost” purpose, but he has also come to appreciate these conversations as an end in themselves. (Interview by Elie Mischel.)

For the first time in 2,000 years, we have an opportunity to speak our minds as believing Jews and provide guidance to others who wish to know the word of God about pressing social issues.

Often, these groups are embattled in their own ways, and are looking for someone to hold their hand or pat them on the back and say, “Listen, we are theologically incompatible with each other. But we share in our gut and our minds a firm conviction in the existence of a Creator, of His communication with man, of normative demands that are immutable and without which man and mankind will not be happy.”

I have learned a number of things in doing this work. The assumption with which many of us grew up, that every Christian is out to convert us, and that converting us is at the very top of their list of priorities, is simply not true. There are tens and probably hundreds of millions of Christians who are neither anti-Semitic nor particularly zealous about recruiting others. . . . But history has taught them that direct proselytizing is often counterproductive and not as effective as trying to live as exemplars of their faith and hoping that others will be attracted to it.

So much of our vocabulary coincides. We talk about God in intimate terms, as One Who surrounds us 24/7, a God we feel responsible to, [Who guarantees that] there are consequences to our actions and not everything is up for grabs, and a God Who cares about us. This instantly gives us things to talk about, without having to get into theological points that separate us.

Addressing a recent meeting of the Palestine Liberation Organization’s Central Committee, Mahmoud Abbas criticized Hamas more sharply than he has previously (at least in public), calling them “sons of dogs.” The eighty-nine-year-old Palestinian Authority president urged the terrorist group to “stop the war of extermination in Gaza” and “hand over the American hostages.” The editors of the New York Sun comment:

Mr. Abbas has long been at odds with Hamas, which violently ousted his Fatah party from Gaza in 2007. The tone of today’s outburst, though, is new. Comparing rivals to canines, which Arabs consider dirty, is startling. Its motivation, though, was unrelated to the plight of the 59 remaining hostages, including 23 living ones. Instead, it was an attempt to use an opportune moment for reviving Abbas’s receding clout.

[W]hile Hamas’s popularity among Palestinians soared after its orgy of killing on October 7, 2023, it is now sinking. The terrorists are hoarding Gaza aid caches that Israel declines to replenish. As the war drags on, anti-Hamas protests rage across the Strip. Polls show that Hamas’s previously elevated support among West Bank Arabs is also down. Striking the iron while it’s hot, Abbas apparently longs to retake center stage. Can he?

Diminishing support for Hamas is yet to match the contempt Arabs feel toward Abbas himself. Hamas considers him irrelevant for what it calls “the resistance.”

[Meanwhile], Abbas is yet to condemn Hamas’s October 7 massacre. His recent announcement of ending alms for terror is a ruse.

Abbas, it’s worth noting, hasn’t saved all his epithets for Hamas. He also twice said of the Americans, “may their fathers be cursed.” Of course, after a long career of anti-Semitic incitement, Abbas can’t be expected to have a moral awakening. Nor is there much incentive for him to fake one. But, like the protests in Gaza, Abbas’s recent diatribe is a sign that Hamas is perceived as weak and that its stock is sinking.