In a recent debate in the House of Lords, a retired clergyman suggested that verses from the Quran be read at the coronation of the next monarch as a gesture of “inclusive hospitality” toward British Muslims. Such an idea, however well-intentioned, is absurd for many reasons, argues Douglas Murray, not least that British Muslims are unlikely to reciprocate:

[I]ncluding passages from the Quran in the next coronation of a monarch is a mistake because of the old problem of reciprocity. . . . It is worth asking why British Muslims should have their scripture represented in the coronation of the new monarch, when many, in their mosques, will not even pray for the well-being of that monarch. In synagogues in the UK, British Jews every week have a prayer in their services for the long life and happiness of the queen. It is a moving and heartfelt moment, not to mention a clear signal given to any doubters that Jews in Britain are utterly loyal to the state.

So why should British mosques not have some similar prayer? Whenever I have mooted this to Muslim friends in Britain, they have always dismissed the idea as if it were an example of a willful provocation on my part even to raise the issue. The underlying theme is that everyone knows this would be impossible. But why? If Muslims in Britain want to show that they are loyal to Britain, why not take a leaf out of the Jews’ book and have a prayer in every Friday service up and down the land for the queen as head of state, head of the Church of England, and head of the armed forces? It would be a wonderful sign.

On Yom Kippur, Hizballah fired over 200 rockets and drones at Israel, with one drone hitting a retirement home in Herzliya, miraculously without casualties. Yesterday, however, proved less lucky: a drone launched by the Iran-backed group struck a military base, killing four and injuring another 58, about twenty moderately or seriously.

This attack reflects Iranian strategy: Israeli defensive systems are strong, but so are Iranian drones and missiles, and with enough attacks some will get through. As Ariel Kahana writes, such an approach is consistent with Tehran’s desire to fight a war of attrition, denying Jerusalem the chance to strike a decisive blow. Kahana explains how the IDF might turn the tables:

It’s worth noting that Iran’s strategy of wearing down Israel and other U.S. allies in the region is not merely a choice, but a necessity. Militarily, it’s the only card left in Tehran’s hand. Iran neither desires nor possesses the capability to deploy ground forces against Israel, given the vast geographical distance and intervening countries. Moreover, while Israel boasts one of the world’s most formidable air forces, Iran’s air capabilities are comparatively limited.

Israel’s trump card in this high-stakes game is its unparalleled air-defense system. For years, Iran had counted on its network of proxy organizations to provide a protective umbrella against Western strikes. However, a year into the current conflict, this strategy lies in tatters: Hamas is reeling, Hizballah is on the back foot, and the various militias in Iraq and Yemen amount to little more than an irritant for Israel. The result? Iran finds itself unexpectedly exposed.

And when it comes to direct attacks on Israel, Iran’s options may be limited. Its October 1 attack, which used its sophisticated Fateh-2 missiles, was more effective than that in April, but not much more so:

Oded Eilam, drawing on his experience as a former senior Mossad official, . .  estimates [Iran’s] stockpile of these advanced weapons is limited to between 400 and 800. With 200 already expended in a single attack, Iran’s reserves of truly effective missiles may be running low. This raises a critical question: can Iran sustain a prolonged ballistic exchange with Israel? The numbers suggest it’s capacity for attrition warfare may be more limited than it would like to admit.