In 2010, computer security experts started detecting the Stuxnet virus spreading rapidly across the Internet. Mysteriously, its complex code seemed to do nothing but further distribute the virus—until it encountered software used by the Iranian nuclear-weapons program, where it proceeded to interfere with the operation of centrifuges. Kim Zetter’s book reconstructing the story of Stuxnet, and examining its implications, is reviewed by Gabriel Schoenfeld:

Zetter marshals evidence suggesting that these high jinks slowed down Iran’s nuclear effort. It is not a criticism of her book to note that this assessment, like many of its observations and conclusions, is at best well-informed conjecture. [The covert operation that created Stuxnet] remains shrouded in secrecy. The interviews and public sources upon which Zetter draws yield no definitive information. Perhaps only the Iranians themselves know for certain what happened, and they are not telling.

Whatever Stuxnet did or did not accomplish, [Zetter’s book] has the virtue of putting the attack into a broader context. The epoch of cyber warfare inaugurated by Stuxnet promises to be no less unnerving than the nuclear-weapons age that began in 1945. The problem is familiar: What goes around comes around. We may hope that the virus damaged the ayatollahs’ nuclear program, but given the degree to which Internet connectivity has expanded into every corner of American life, we ourselves are susceptible to attack by the same kind of stealth weapon.

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.