London’s first Muslim mayor, the newly elected Sadiq Khan, is himself no Islamist, and in his public statement has made a habit of distinguishing those he calls “mainstream Muslims” from the “hardliners”; in recent years he has also come out as a supporter of gay marriage and even chastised the Labor party for the anti-Semitic tendencies of many of its members. Nonetheless, Benjamin Weingarten writes, Sadiq’s views give one pause:

Most notoriously, [Khan] spoke in favor of incorporating sharia law into the British legal system in 2004, saying, “There are some . . . uncontroversial areas of Islamic law which could easily be applied to the legal system . . . in the UK.” One of these uncontroversial areas was polygamy, the recognition of which would allow Muslim husbands in the UK to enjoy tax exemptions on inheritance for multiple spouses. Khan also spoke out against laws stopping forced marriages. And in a 2009 interview with Iran’s English-language Press TV, Khan referred to so-called moderate Muslims as “Uncle Toms.”

Does all of this reflect compatibility between London’s “mainstream” Islam and Western liberalism? The most charitable interpretation of Khan’s words and actions would be similar to that taken by the Obama administration regarding Iran’s jihadist leaders—that their words are “merely for domestic political consumption to appease the hardliners.” Yet even if one accepts such rationalizations, the existence of such a powerful contingent of “hardliners”—in Khan’s case, in the heart of the West—is hardly reassuring. . . .

Could it be that his liberal words and gestures are the ones meant “for domestic political consumption”? . . .

If Sadiq Khan truly wishes to separate himself from Islamists and establish himself as a Western liberal, he would proclaim that words and cartoons don’t kill people, jihadists do, and that totalitarian Islamist ideology has no place in Western democratic societies. And if Khan’s London really is the bastion of liberalism that he claims, he will be joined by thousands of Muslims in support of such words and efforts. We probably shouldn’t hold our breath.

If Iran succeeds in obtaining nuclear weapons, the war in Gaza, let alone the protests on college campuses, will seem like a minor complication. Jonathan Schachter fears that this danger could be much more imminent than decisionmakers in Jerusalem and Washington believe. In his view, Israel seems to be repeating the mistake that allowed it to be taken by surprise on Simchat Torah of 2023 and Yom Kippur of 1973: putting too much faith in an intelligence concept that could be wrong.

Israel and the United States apparently believe that despite Iran’s well-documented progress in developing capabilities necessary for producing and delivering nuclear weapons, as well as its extensive and ongoing record of violating its international nuclear obligations, there is no acute crisis because building a bomb would take time, would be observable, and could be stopped by force. Taken together, these assumptions and their moderating impact on Israeli and American policy form a new Iran concept reminiscent of its 1973 namesake and of the systemic failures that preceded the October 7 massacre.

Meanwhile, most of the restrictions put in place by the 2015 nuclear deal will expire by the end of next year, rendering the question of Iran’s adherence moot. And the forces that could be taking action aren’t:

The European Union regularly issues boilerplate press releases asserting its members’ “grave concern.” American decisionmakers and spokespeople have created the unmistakable impression that their reservations about the use of force are stronger than their commitment to use force to prevent an Iranian atomic bomb. At the same time, the U.S. refuses to enforce its own sanctions comprehensively: Iranian oil exports (especially to China) and foreign-currency reserves have ballooned since January 2021, when the Biden administration took office.

Israel’s response has also been sluggish and ambiguous. Despite its oft-stated policy of never allowing a nuclear Iran, Israel’s words and deeds have sent mixed messages to allies and adversaries—perhaps inadvertently reinforcing the prevailing sense in Washington and elsewhere that Iran’s nuclear efforts do not present an exigent crisis.