The Terrorist State

The modern international system lacks a clear designation for what should be called a Terrorist State. While international law deals with terrorism and state responsibility, it stops short of applying a legal label to regimes that define themselves not merely by repression or aggression, but by the use of terror as a core instrument of rule and ideology. This gap leaves the global community without the vocabulary—or the policy tools—to confront regimes like Iran for what they truly are.

Iran is not simply a repressive theocracy or a regional aggressor. Since its Islamic Revolution in 1979, it has positioned itself as the vanguard of a transnational mission to remake the Muslim world in its own image. That mission is not economic or territorial, but ideological. It is rooted in a medieval, absolutist religious worldview that divides the world between believers and infidels, and that seeks to export the revolution by any means necessary—often through violence. Iran does not merely support terrorism; it defines itself through it.

What distinguishes a Terrorist State is not just the support it gives to militant groups, but its ideological commitment to political violence, its active sponsorship or direct engagement in terrorism beyond its borders, and its rejection of the legitimacy of the international system itself. In Iran’s case, this includes funding, training, and directing groups like Hezbollah and Hamas; open calls for the destruction of Israel; and a constitutional framework that enshrines the export of its revolution as a national duty.

Unlike other authoritarian regimes that may use violence internally, Iran wields terrorism as a tool of foreign policy, and it does so with doctrinal purpose. This sets it apart not just from democracies, but even from other autocracies. It does not participate in the international community in good faith because it does not recognize its legitimacy. To Iran’s leadership, institutions like the United Nations are products of an infidel world order that must be resisted and ultimately overthrown.

Given these facts, we need to articulate a clear, international definition of a Terrorist State—not just as a rhetorical flourish, but as a formal classification. Such a designation should be based on clear criteria: (1) a regime’s ideological commitment to violence as a central political tool, (2) its systematic support for terrorism beyond its borders, and (3) its rejection of sovereign legitimacy and international norms. Iran meets all three criteria.

Labeling a regime a Terrorist State would carry consequences: diplomatic isolation, expulsion from international organizations, global sanctions, and legal accountability for its leadership. But more than that, it would provide moral and strategic clarity. We cannot confront a threat we refuse to name. The inability—or unwillingness—of the international system to call Iran what it is has emboldened its leadership and endangered its neighbors. It's time to stop treating Iran like a normal country, and start treating it like the threat it openly declares itself to be.

The Golden Opportunity

Your neighbor has been stockpiling weapons in their house. This neighbor openly hates you—they call you their sworn enemy and have threatened your family for years. They say they want you dead. They call you evil and declare their commitment to your annihilation.

Meanwhile, you go about your life. You raise your family. You go to work. You try to live in peace. But every so often, they vandalize your property. They hire others to deface your home, disrupt your life, and make your existence miserable. You install alarms, cameras, and hire private security. You do everything you can to protect yourself. But the threats and harassment never stop—and the weapons keep piling up next door. At what point are you justified in striking back?

That’s been Israel’s situation with Iran for decades. After years of threats, attacks, and proxy wars, Israel is striking back. This is not the beginning of a conflict. It’s an escalation of a long, grinding, existential war that Israel has been forced to wage for years.

Iran’s nuclear ambitions, its open hostility, and its sponsorship of groups like Hezbollah are not abstractions for Israel—they are lived realities. The October 7th massacre—the single greatest security failure in Israel’s history—was a turning point. In the neighbor analogy, imagine one of your enemy’s henchmen broke into your house, murdered two of your children, and kidnapped another. Would that not cross a red line? Would you still feel safe doing nothing while your neighbor continued stockpiling weapons and plotting your demise?

But Israel's response wasn’t just reactive. It was also strategic. The crippling of Hezbollah, Iran’s most advanced frontline proxy, was a major military success. Israel is now saying that its goal is to eliminate the nuclear threat. In the short term, this might be achievable through airstrikes. But in the medium to long term, it can’t do it alone. It needs American assistance—specifically, the B-2 bombers and bunker-busting munitions that only the U.S. can provide. Will that help come? Probably not.

Trump, despite his bluster, is unlikely to commit U.S. forces to another Middle East war. At most, he will offer intelligence and weaponry. His MAGA base has no appetite for a new conflict. His foreign policy is driven by strategic incoherence because all he cares about is personal ambition—namely, his obsession with winning the Nobel Peace Prize. He fantasized about brokering deals to end the Russia-Ukraine war or the Gaza conflict in 24 hours of taking office. Predictably, those plans didn't materialize. Now that Israel and Iran are fighting it out, trump sees it as another shot at the Nobel. As if Iran would now return to the negotiating table with the U.S. It's craven and unserious. 

In the meantime, Israel is left to act alone.

Even if Israel succeeds in setting back Iran’s nuclear program a decade, that alone won’t guarantee long-term security. The only real solution, ultimately, is regime change in Iran. But that, as history has shown again and again, is a perilous and unpredictable road. Airstrikes won’t spark democracy. Killing leaders doesn’t guarantee transformation. And even if the regime collapses, what replaces it? A freer Iran—or something worse? No one knows. That’s the grim uncertainty Israel faces.

But one thing is clear: the United States, once the unshakable anchor of global order, can no longer be counted on to lead. Israel has offered it a golden opportunity to reassert moral leadership, strength and principle. But trump, and much of the political establishment, are unlikely to take advantage of it. And the worst outcome - which America's unwillingness to act could guarantee - is that Iran survives the war relatively intact and rushes to get nuclear weapons, probably with Russia's assistance.

Israel must press forward, alone if necessary. It has no choice. No nation can afford to live next door to someone who openly seeks its destruction—and does nothing.

American Weakness Playing Out

My first thought is that this is yet another example of American weakness—perhaps the most acute I’ve seen in my lifetime.

Israel’s so-called "preemptive" strike on Iran—Netanyahu’s term—is more accurately described as a 'preventive' attack. 'Preemptive' implies an imminent threat; this was a long-planned, calculated effort to prevent Iran from reaching a point where such a threat would become real. The strike was motivated by several factors, not least of which is the weakness of the United States, which has been attempting to quietly renegotiate terms of the JCPOA, the Obama agreement that trump cancelled in his first administration. Netanyahu was not going to allow that to happen.

The statements coming out of Washington have been astonishingly feeble—almost pleading with Tehran not to retaliate against the U.S. Officials emphasized that trump had been “informed” in advance, in order to allow American personnel in the region to prepare. This only reinforces what Iran already believes: that the United States and Israel are indistinguishable. And yet, despite that understanding, the U.S. under trump has once again demonstrated its willingness to throw even its closest allies under the bus. Israel knows this—and acted accordingly.

There are other reasons for the timing of the attack, both political and strategic. From Israel’s perspective, the window of opportunity was closing. Iran’s air defenses were compromised by previous Israeli strikes. The leadership and structure of Iran’s regional proxies—Hezbollah, Hamas, and the Houthis—have all been severely weakened. Netanyahu’s government is teetering on the brink of collapse, and he is fighting for his political life. Trump, for his part, is mired in historically low approval ratings, domestic chaos, and a string of damaging headlines. All of this plays into the decision.

My sense is that this war will be protracted. Iran’s ability to absorb Israeli attacks, and respond in asymmetric and unconventional ways, should not be underestimated. Iran has a wide range of options: through proxies, cyberattacks, and possibly even sleeper cells. The stated goal of the strikes is to halt Iran’s nuclear program. Israel can damage and delay that effort but cannot destroy it without U.S. support. And the U.S. cannot be relied upon to participate, at least not overtly. Even if American forces are directly attacked, as seems likely, the response will be muted. Trump is full of bluster, but fundamentally weak.

If Israel’s unspoken objective is regime destabilization in Tehran, the outcome may be the opposite. Being attacked may well strengthen the hardliners, galvanize nationalist sentiment, and give the regime cover to crack down even harder on dissent.

The underlying reality is that Israel possesses nuclear weapons. It doesn’t officially acknowledge this, but everyone knows. If Iran succeeds in acquiring a nuclear weapon—and I believe it’s inevitable—it would not pose an existential threat to Israel unless one assumes Iran is suicidal. I don’t believe it is.

As hard as it may be to accept, the past 80 years have shown that nuclear weapons, in practice, tend to bring a form of stability. They deter large-scale wars, not provoke them. Of course, there are no guarantees. The fear is that nuclear weapons might fall into the hands of malign or irrational actors. And yes, fewer nuclear states make that less likely. But it’s important to remember that nuclear weapons aren’t like handguns. They’re incredibly difficult to develop, maintain, and deploy. Iran has been working toward this goal for decades and still isn’t there.

Much of the public discourse around nuclear weapons is shaped by our collective fears, fed by more familiar, intimate forms of violence: school shootings, church massacres, random acts of terrorism. But these are not the same as state-led nuclear strategy. One is chaos; the other is calculus.

We may be entering a new phase in the Middle East, one defined by long wars, proxy conflicts, and the slow erosion of American influence. Israel's actions are the clearest indication of that shift. It will take a while until we have a sense of the new order that will emerge. In the meantime the bloody human costs are likely to be heartbreakingly high. 

Brian Wilson is Gone

I was genuinely heartbroken to hear that Brian Wilson died. It feels like the passing of an era — in a different way than Sly Stone’s recent death.

Not that I was a huge Beach Boys fan growing up. The whole surf music scene was a bit before my time. By the late '70s, when I was saving up allowance money to buy albums by Elton John, Steely Dan, or Pink Floyd, the Beach Boys already seemed passé. At bar mitzvah parties, I’d cringe at the sight of parents dancing to “Surfin’ Safari” or “Surfin’ USA,” doing their best Chubby Checker moves, while I’d slink off to a corner and smirk.

It was only later, when many of my rock heroes — from Paul McCartney to Elvis Costello to even Van Halen — began citing Brian Wilson as a musical genius and an influence, that I started paying attention. Suddenly Pet Sounds was being hailed as perhaps the greatest rock album of all time — often listed just behind Sgt. Pepper. That made me reconsider. These guys weren’t just singing about California girls and beach parties.

“Good Vibrations” had bizarre, experimental, beautiful musical elements — mid-song key changes, and who puts a theremin in a pop song? And that arpeggiated bass intro (I was learning to play the instrument at the time) grabbed me immediately. Then came “Wouldn’t It Be Nice” and “God Only Knows” — two of the most harmonically rich and emotionally sophisticated pop songs ever written. I began to understand: Brian Wilson, along with Lennon and McCartney, was one of the most important composers of the pop era, helping elevate rock music from commercial fluff to something resembling genuine art.

But back to those bar mitzvah parties.

These days, I keep hearing stories about musicians making much of their income playing private gigs for billionaires. Sure, there are still a few superstar acts — Bruce Springsteen can still sell out Wembley for five nights, and Taylor Swift, who has been building her following since the early 2000s — but they’re increasingly rare. For many others, the new live music economy revolves around corporate parties, weddings, and yes, bar mitzvahs.

When I was growing up, the idea that an act like Led Zeppelin or the Rolling Stones would play a private event was laughable. They were untouchable, living gods of music, flying around the world in private jets not to serve others but to fulfill their own debauched mythologies. We idolized them because they seemed so far beyond us.

Today, the script has flipped. Now it’s the tech billionaires who live the jet-set life of excess, while many musicians — some of them legit chart-toppers — are left to hustle for a living. Beyoncé, Drake, even someone named Flo Rida (apparently a huge star) — have all reportedly played bar mitzvahs for kids who’ll never understand how rare and absurd that once would have been.

It’s a commentary on our time. Back then, singer-songwriters were revered as mystics, poets and visionaries. We studied liner notes, memorized lyrics, lived inside their albums. A new tour announcement was like the coming of a prophet. Scoring a concert ticket felt like gaining entry to a holy rite. We sang every word together, our voices merging with theirs. Listen to any live album from that era — you can hear the devotion in the crowd.

That era is gone. Brian Wilson is gone. I’m now approaching the age where I might be invited to a grandchild’s bar mitzvah. I just wish I knew a few billionaires.

War Crimes

CLICK HERE TO HEAR THE SONG

(Dedicated to the largely ignored people of Sudan)

They're investigating war crimes,

Digging up mass graves.

The silence that you're hearing—

Comes from those we couldn't save.

You and I are here,

Witness to the cost.

Trying to count the broken ways,

That prove how much was lost.

There won’t be any trials,

Only the victims pay.

The ones who give the orders,

Will always walk away.

The headlines don’t mean nothing—

Just feed the scroll of fear.

They keep us glued to chaos,

Just thankful we're not there.

War crimes,

It goes by many names.

War crimes,

No one takes the blame.

War crimes,

The world’s gone up in flames.

War crimes,

We wear it like a stain.

We watch the ways they suffer,

In godforsaken lands.

Fertilized with hatred,

By warlords and their clans.

You can blame the leaders,

You can blame the banks.

Blame god and the gunmakers,

Who draw a moral blank.

War crimes,

It goes by many names.

War crimes,

No one takes the blame.

War crimes,

The world’s gone up in flames.

War crimes,

We wear it like a stain.

Greta, Greta, Greta

When did your mission turn from saving the planet from ecological destruction for your generation to freeing Palestine? I guess you started to realize that the whole climate change thing was becoming passé and turning into a sort of attention-getting dead end. So you decided to wrap yourself in the keffiyeh to stay relevant and in the news. For a 22-year old you're pretty savvy. Hard to believe you've been doing this for 10 years already. But most of us can see through it. The boat on a mission to 'feed' the Palestinians was too obviously a media stunt. I get it. Like so many who rise to fame in the era of social media you've become a brand, and whether you know it consciously or not, you're thinking about brand relevance and expansion. I find that sad. I liked you much better when you were an innocent, serious, earnest, well-meaning Swedish elementary school child who decided that you had to do something drastic to save the world. So you went on 'strike' and became a media darling. Now you're just self-important. My suggestion is, don't spread yourself too thin. Don't get involved in political matters you clearly know nothing about. It will only dilute your credibility and appeal. When you were a quizzical 11-year old calling for your elders to stop destroying your generation's future all you needed for credibility was sincerity. When it comes to complicated political issues - not that climate isn't political, but it's not like you have to take 'sides' - it behooves you to have some education. Seems like that's emblematic of your generation in the attention economy - the combination of activist theatrics and ignorance. I was hoping that you wouldn't fall for it. Become one of those jaded social media justice warrior types. It starts looking like careerism.

Hearing A Lot, Knowing A Little

The past three days have been the worst, in public relations terms, that Israel has suffered since the start of the Gaza war—and given how bad it’s been throughout, that’s saying a lot. There are reasons for this—some for which Israel is clearly responsible, and others less so.

We’re hearing a lot of information. What we actually know is far less.

What We Know:

New food aid distribution points have been set up in Gaza by an organization calling itself the Gaza Humanitarian Foundation (GHF). It’s a U.S.- and Israeli-funded non-profit incorporated in Delaware. The goal of this new system was twofold: logistical and political. First, to stop Hamas from looting and reselling food aid originally distributed through the UN. Second, to displace the UN entirely, since Israel sees it as biased and sympathetic to Hamas.

But the UN had 400 small distribution points across Gaza, staffed by trained personnel with experience in large-scale humanitarian operations. The GHF, by contrast, is starting from scratch. It has taken a very different approach: opening a handful of large distribution sites—up to ten total—mostly in southern Gaza, staffed and secured by private U.S. contractors. The IDF is not directly involved but maintains a security perimeter at a distance.

One thing is clear: so far, it has been an unmitigated disaster.

What We Hear:

On May 27th, the second day of operations, GHF lost control of its first site when thousands of desperate people, including women and children, rushed to get food. Israeli troops fired “warning shots,” and staff were forced to flee to avoid casualties. According to the Hamas-run Media Office, Israeli tanks opened fire, killing 10 Palestinians and wounding 62.

More incidents followed: on June 1st, 31 people were reported killed and 170 injured near another site. On June 3rd, 27 more were reportedly killed, with 161 injured in Rafah. Hamas immediately blamed Israel, calling the events “massacres” and “war crimes,” and circulated video footage of chaos and wounded civilians—images that have been broadcast around the world.

Israel has scrambled to respond, releasing its own video from May 27th which appears to show that it was actually Hamas gunmen who opened fire on the crowd.

Let’s be clear: Hamas’s account cannot be taken at face value. It has every incentive to see the new aid system fail. That said, Israel’s response has been abysmal.

David Mencer, the Israeli government spokesman with the polished British accent, has been making the media rounds. His core message is that all reports coming out of Gaza are propaganda from the Hamas-run Health Ministry and should not be trusted. In every interview, the obvious question follows, namely, if that’s true, then why doesn’t Israel allow international journalists into Gaza to independently verify what’s happening? Mencer’s answer: “Israel’s job is not to get journalists in safely, it’s to get our hostages out safely.” It’s a terrible answer. It’s an obvious deflection. Worse, it highlights how unsuccessful Israel has been at getting hostages out. It also fuels the perception that Israel has something to hide.

Mencer knows full well that journalists have covered dangerous war zones for generations—from World War II to Vietnam to Iraq. It’s their job. Whether or not they go is a decision for their media organizations, not Israel. Yes, it's true that journalists being killed is damaging for Israel, which is perceived to be in control of Gaza. But that’s not an argument against access—it’s an argument for transparency. Mencer also points out that most "citizen journalists" in Gaza have to be favorable to Hamas or they will be killed. Probably true. But isn't that more reason to allow in independent professionals?

For all its flaws, replacing the UN was likely a mistake. Hamas fighters hiding in UN buildings was a military problem. But swapping a flawed but functioning system for a brand new, barely operational one has turned out to be both a logistical disaster and a public relations catastrophe. Hungry, desperate people are now being herded into a few chaotic sites with minimal infrastructure. The resulting images—chaos, stampedes, bodies—are deeply damaging, and not just to Israel’s image. They’re feeding doubts about the motivations of Israel’s leadership and giving its critics a devastating narrative: that Israel is deliberately making life unlivable to push for what it calls “voluntary, temporary displacement.”

The more these images circulate, the harder that accusation becomes to refute.

Asymmetries

I suddenly realized something about the conflict between Israel and Hamas — something so obvious that most of us overlook it. And yet, I believe it's central to the intense emotions many of us are experiencing: the anger, the moral outrage, the sense of injustice, futility, and helplessness.

We often say — and truly believe — that both Israel and Hamas should be held accountable for their actions. But then why does it feel like Israel is the one being relentlessly piled on? Is it simply because Israel is behaving worse?

I don’t think so.

The real reason, I believe, lies in a fundamental asymmetry of the conflict.

Israel can be held accountable — and is, every single day. By its own citizens, its own media, its courts, and by the international community. There are rules, standards, and legal frameworks we expect it to uphold. And so we scrutinize, we criticize, we protest, we judge.

Hamas, on the other hand, is a terrorist organization — a non-state actor, operating outside any accepted legal framework or governing norms. It has no courts, no free press, no civic institutions, no mechanisms of self-restraint. It is accountable to no one, not even to the Palestinian people who live under its rule. In fact, many of its supporters celebrate this lack of accountability as a kind of virtue — proof that it isn’t constrained by “Western values” or international law.

Let me be clear: I would never argue that we should lower the standards we apply to Israel in order to create a "level playing field." Quite the opposite. The solution is not to demand less of Israel — it’s to demand more of Hamas. To insist on the same level of accountability, transparency, and moral responsibility from all parties engaged in violence, especially those who claim to act in the name of justice or liberation.

Until we recognize and address this fundamental asymmetry, our debates about this conflict will remain emotionally charged and morally incoherent. If we want to discuss this tragedy honestly and productively, we need to keep this imbalance — between a state bound by law and a group defined by lawlessness — firmly in view.

How Worried Should We Be About the Latest Violence Against Jews?

In the past two weeks, we’ve witnessed two deeply alarming incidents in the United States: the cold-blooded murder of two Israeli Embassy staffers on the streets of Washington, D.C., outside a networking event, and this past weekend’s attack in Boulder, Colorado, where Molotov cocktails and a homemade flamethrower were used on a gathering for hostages, injuring twelve people. In both cases, the attackers reportedly shouted “Free Palestine,” making clear these were politically motivated hate crimes targeting Jews. Add to this the firebombing of Pennsylvania Governor Josh Shapiro’s house on Passover, and the pattern becomes harder to ignore.

It’s important to distinguish here between anti-Semitism as a broad category and anti-Jewish violence as a specific, physical threat. Anti-Semitic incidents come in many forms—defaced synagogues, swastikas on campuses, hate speech, and online harassment. The vast majority of them are intended to intimidate and harass, not to kill. When we talk about the documented rise in anti-Semitism over the past decade, we are usually referring to these non-violent, though no less toxic, acts.

According to the "State of Anti-Semitism in America 2024" report, published in February 2025, 33% of American Jews said they had personally experienced anti-Semitism—either in person or online—within the past year. The Anti-Defamation League (ADL) has tracked a steady increase in reported incidents since 2016, with the most significant spike—an estimated 360%—occurring between 2021 and 2022, coinciding with the intensification of the war in Gaza.

But acts of 'bodily violence' against Jews remain relatively rare, and deadly attacks even more so. If we’re looking at numbers—and I recognize the discomfort in reducing this issue to statistics—far more Jews in recent years have been harmed or killed by right-wing extremism than by leftist political violence. There are structural reasons for this: right-wing extremists tend to hold explicitly racist and anti-Semitic worldviews, and they often glorify violence and 'gun culture'. Combine those elements, and you get a high potential for lethal outcomes.

The deadliest attacks on American Jews in modern memory remain the Tree of Life synagogue massacre in Pittsburgh (October 2018, 11 killed), and the shooting at a synagogue in Poway, California (April 2019, one dead, three injured). These followed the 2017 “Blood and Soil” white supremacist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia—a rally whose open Nazi iconography and anti-Jewish chants signaled a turning point in mainstreaming hate.

What makes the most recent attacks so unsettling is that they don’t fit the profile we’ve come to expect. Protest slogans and campus activism are usually where leftist anger over Israel and Gaza manifests—not Molotov cocktails and targeted killings. The question naturally arises: is this a new trend?

I don’t think so.

One commonality links the violent attacks of 2018 and those we’ve just seen: Donald Trump is President. While the Colorado attacker reportedly told authorities he had been planning an attack for a year, it’s not a stretch to suggest that he chose this particular moment to act because the political climate now feels opportune.

The President sets the national tone. Traditionally, presidents have used the authority of their office to calm tensions and unite the country. Trump does the opposite. When he isn’t providing comfort to right-wing extremists—offering them a permission structure for their hate—he’s promoting conspiracies that demonize immigrants and minorities. In true form, trump responded to the Colorado attack by posting, “He came in through Biden’s ridiculous Open Border Policy, which has hurt our Country so badly... This is yet another example of why we must keep our Borders SECURE, and deport Illegal, Anti-American Radicals from our Homeland.” No expression of sympathy for the victims. No condemnation of violence. No call for calm. Just more gasoline on an already smoldering fire.

Do I believe something fundamental has changed in America? Is America a more anti-Semitic society now than ten or twenty years ago?

Actually, no. I’d argue the opposite is likely true: most Americans today are more tolerant and open-minded than in previous generations. But extremists—on both ends of the spectrum—have become more emboldened, particularly under trump. And that’s why we are seeing more mass violence across the board. According to the Gun Violence Archive, there were over 488 mass shootings (defined as four or more victims) in the U.S. in 2024 alone—more than one per day.

Viewed in that context, the recent attacks in Washington and Colorado, as horrific as they are, may not be signs of something new. They are signs of something worsening: a political and cultural atmosphere in which hate is not just tolerated but activated.

The threat to Jews in America right now is real. But it’s not rooted in a sudden surge of popular anti-Semitism. It’s rooted in the dangerous convergence of extremism, impunity, and a political leadership that fuels division instead of diffusing it.

We should be concerned. Not because America has become a nation of anti-Semites, but because we are failing to contain those who are.

Has Israel Gone Too Far?

A debate I’ve been having recently with friends and family centers around a question that feels increasingly urgent: Has Israel gone too far?

Of course, the difficult part is defining what “too far” means. We all support Israel’s right—indeed, its necessity—to defend itself. But at what point does legitimate self-defense cross into unjustifiable cruelty?

I want to add my small, unimportant voice to the growing chorus of more prominent ones, including most recently Ehud Olmert. Yes, he’s a long-time political rival of Netanyahu and an opponent of the current government—his words should be weighed accordingly. But hearing a former Israeli Prime Minister publicly suggest that Israel may be committing war crimes is jarring. I never imagined I’d hear those words from someone who once held that office.

For me, the unease began when Israel started blocking food aid from entering Gaza. I’m uncomfortable for two reasons. First, the act of stopping food trucks—especially in a war zone—has always been, in my mind, beyond the pale. It invites a humanitarian disaster. If Israel controls what enters and exits Gaza—and it does—then Israel bears responsibility. The images of Gaza reduced to rubble and of vast tent camps are tragic, but can be argued as the grim byproduct of Hamas’s strategy of embedding within civilian areas. But starving a population is a different matter. And I knew the inevitable images of malnourished children would not only be heartbreaking—they would undermine Israel’s claim to moral legitimacy.

The claim that Hamas steals the food is, to me, a deflection. That’s not the point. Whether trucks are allowed in is the point. If allowing aid means some of it is misappropriated by Hamas, that is a tragic but tolerable cost—far less morally corrosive than the alternative of collective starvation. It doesn't change the military calculus. But it does change the moral one.

Second, I’m unsettled by how many Israel supporters—again, people I know and love—are willing to justify nearly any action in the name of self-defense. Withholding food does nothing meaningful to weaken Hamas. Yet too many have chosen to shelve their morality in favor of political allegiance. I started seeing this trend when trump floated his abhorrent 'proposal' to 'develop' Gaza into a playground for the rich. I called it what it was: ethnic cleansing. I was shocked at how many people didn’t just dismiss it outright. It reminded me of other, darker times in history when seemingly decent people found ways to rationalize monstrous acts in pursuit of political ends.

Back then, Jews were the victims. Now, it feels as though the shoe is on the other foot.

When someone like Olmert—or former IDF general and politician Yair Golan—publicly voices serious accusations against the Israeli government, their motives may be political. That doesn’t mean their concerns are invalid. I’ve never believed Israel’s greatest threat came from Hamas, Islamic Jihad, the Houthis, or even Iran. Israel has the military and intelligence capabilities to defend itself against these threats. I’ve long believed that the tragedy of October 7th was less a surprise and more the result of colossal government failure. I wouldn’t say it was self-inflicted, but Hamas walked through a door that Israel’s negligent leadership left wide open.

The threat I fear most comes from within.

Israel, like the U.S., is in the midst of a prolonged internal crisis. I trace its roots back to November 4, 1995, when Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin was assassinated by a religious extremist. That act of political violence marked the beginning of Israel’s rightward drift and the increasing power of religious parties. Since then, an alliance between the secular right and the religious bloc has grown stronger, more entrenched, and more extreme.

The greatest danger facing Israel today is political Messianism.

Messianism is the ideological belief in a divinely sanctioned destiny, immune to compromise and fueled by absolute moral certainty. Nazism was a form of Messianism—rooted in mythologies of racial purity. So is jihadism, which cloaks political violence in the language of divine justice. I say this with a heavy heart, but I fear a growing number of Jews—both in Israel and in the diaspora—are falling under a similar spell.

Too many no longer speak of co-existence. Instead, they speak of conquest; annexing Judea and Samaria, expelling Palestinians, and turning Gaza into a buffer zone or a ghost town. The current “plan” for Gaza, such as it is, seems aligned with this dangerous thinking.

Not all Jews believe this, of course. Many—like myself—are heartbroken. We believe in Israel, love Israel, and want nothing more than to see it live in peace and dignity among its neighbors. But the soul of our homeland is being torn apart. If we don’t speak up now, we may soon find that there’s nothing left to defend—except the memory of what Israel once aspired to be.

The Broken

I've been labeled a trump-hater. My response is always the same: I don't hate trump. He's a fool, a clown, a lowlife, a child, a scam artist—he is what he is. You can't blame trump for being psychologically and morally damaged. I don't hold him responsible for his nature. I blame the people who choose to elevate and support such an obviously damaged person. If there is one truism in politics, it's that we get the leaders we deserve. The leaders we elevate tell us far less about them and everything about us. And the picture this paints is ugly.

Well, not here in Canada, not so much anyhow. With our recent choice of leader—a smart, highly educated, accomplished, competent, and decent person—we seem to be in relatively good shape. Justin Trudeau, for all his vacuousness and inexperience early on, always seemed to have his heart in the right place. That counts for something.

Trump is a profoundly self-centered, hollow, malignant, uncaring, vengeful, and broken individual. He is not an aberration; he is an avatar—a projection of the people who support him. And that, more than trump himself, is what should alarm us. He is not Hitler. He is not a fascist ideologue. He is something more banal and insidious: A self-enriching, historically ignorant, narcissistic commercial brand masquerading as a political movement.

Still, the comparison between America in the early 21st century and Germany in the early 20th century is not entirely misplaced. As in Weimar Germany, trump's rise reflects a society disoriented by loss, humiliation, and rapid change. Hitler rose from the ashes of defeat espousing a mythic vision of national rebirth. Trump, in his own way, invokes a mythical past, blames foreigners and "elites" for decline, and presents himself as the only saviour. The difference is that Hitler was an ideologue, he believed in something greater than himself —something horrifying, yes, but coherent. Trump believes only in himself and leverages the national symbols for the purposes of self-aggrandizement and enrichment.

The deeper issue is this: broken people choose broken, destructive leaders. By "broken," I mean people who are hopeless, alienated, detached from meaning and community. People who feel victimized and unseen. Such people are drawn to lies that comfort and communities that offer rigid belonging. Broken people are prime targets for cults, conspiracies, and authoritarianism. In this context the analogy of  Germany is appropriate.  

The brokenness that we see in politics has its roots in the fragmentation of the social fabric that began decades ago, during the 1960s—a decade of enormous social upheaval in the U.S. The Vietnam War, political assassinations, the rise of feminism, the questioning of traditional authority, family dissolution, the decline of organized religion and civic groups—all of it contributed to a kind of cultural splintering. That process has strenghthened and accelerated in recent decades with the rise of algorithmically-driven social media. Put plainly, the social forces that are pulling us apart, especially with the new individualized technologies, have become vastly stronger than the ones promoting unity and cohesion. Trump exemplifies the political expression of this fragmentation reaching the mainstream. 

Again, Trump is not Hitler. But that doesn’t make him harmless. He damages institutions, corrodes trust, and fosters extremism. The real danger isn’t just him, but what he represents: a profound disintegration of shared values and disenchantment with civic life. This problem doesn’t have a quick fix. It can’t be solved with a better candidate or a sharper debate performance. It can't be repaired by policy choices. That's why we have seen the Democrats struggle to find a voice. It's why the media has struggled so haplessly to cover the new discourse. Conventional politics doesn't address the basic problem. This is a cultural and psychological crisis as much as a political one.

The path toward restoring a political discourse of common sense and decency needs to engender rebuilding trust, community, and common purpose. That will take time, imagination, and institutions willing to evolve. Trump is a symptom, not a cause. The illness is a fragmented, disillusioned society. We may be distracted by the clown show for a while - who doesn't love a circus? But eventually the circus leaves town and we'll have to clean up the mess. There will be a reckoning.  

Mr. Klein

CLICK HERE TO HEAR THE SONG

I knew a man named Mr. Klein,

Though I wouldn’t call him a friend of mine.

The way he looked he seemed quite kind,

Asked how he was, he'd mutter, "Just fine."

He was medium height and overweight,

Wore a jacket and tie that looked out of date.

If he had something to say he'd hesitate,

Like a man who appeared resigned to his fate. 

Mr. Klein, Mr. Klein, sing me a song,

About times you remember and all you've known. 

Mr. Klein, Mr. Klein, recite me a poem,

About the people that you loved long ago. 

Mr Klein to me seemed sort of sad,

I'd see him in the park with a paper bag.

Feeding the squirrels then cleaning his hand,

Trying to decipher the graffiti tags.

They say he was a lawyer, and a teacher too,

Had travelled from Jerusalem to Katmandu.

Wrote sonnets, villanelles and even haiku,

But couldn't understand why all the tattoos.

Mr. Klein, Mr. Klein, sing me a song,

About times you remember and all that you've known. 

Mr. Klein, Mr. Klein, write me a poem,

About the people that you loved a long time ago. 

And then one day Mr. Klein wasn't seen,

No one asked about where he'd been.

How he was feeling, or why he left the scene,

Almost like he existed inside a screen.

I searched for him, he was on my mind,

Wondered why I didn't give him more of my time.

When I had the chance and I was in my prime,

I keep thinking about everyone he left behind.

Mr. Klein, Mr. Klein, sing me a song,

About times you remember and all that you've known, 

Mr. Klein, Mr. Klein, recite me a poem,

About the people that you loved a long time ago. 

Bloodhound For Your Love

CLICK HERE TO HEAR THE SONG

You say I look defeated,

But I'm a stubborn breed.

Dogged as a hound,

An animal of need.

My vision may be fading,

But my nose always knows.

Who you've been with,

How your story goes.

You’ve never had a lover

As passionate as me.

You’re a hard, hard woman—

You had to learn to be.

With all the weight you’re dragging,

The trauma and abuse,

You know I’d stand beside you,

And help to cut it loose.

I'm a bloodhound for your love, baby,

You know that I won't stop.

I'm a bloodhound for your love,

You know I can't give up.

You know I'm gonna find you,

You're always leaving clues.

I'm a bloodhound for your love,

And everything you do.

It don’t make no sense,

Don’t tell me that we’re through.

Your scent lives in my bones,

Like purple made with blue.

I know you want to run,

When things start getting real.

That feeling of distrust, 

Is your heart trying not to feel.

Some ties are invisible,

We all have our leash.

Some kind need their loyalty,

Some kind need release.

I'm vowing to protect you,

And you can call me blind.

Chasing after someone, 

Who never will be mine.

The Bullshitting President

Trump is different from all of his predecessors in uncountable (bad) ways. But perhaps the most consequential difference is how much he talks—publicly, constantly, and often incoherently. He holds press conferences, interviews, and impromptu gaggles with staggering frequency. According to Martha Joynt Kumar of the White House Transition Project, during his first 100 days in office, Trump held 129 press interactions, averaging nearly two per workday—far exceeding his six predecessors.

I use the word "talk" deliberately. What trump does is not "speaking" in the traditional sense. Speaking implies intent, coherence, and communication—a desire to convey ideas with clarity and purpose. What trump does is chatter. It is not communication; it is noise. And it should be taken as seriously as gossip—except that it comes from the most powerful office on the planet, which makes it dangerous.

This talking has two major effects. First, it captures media attention, which is trump’s primary objective. As long as he dominates the news cycle, he believes he is winning—and in a way, he’s right. The media, unable to ignore a sitting president, amplifies every word. And in doing so, they often assign meaning to his nonsense, creating the illusion of intentionality. The infamous phrase "take him seriously, not literally" is a symptom of this problem. It’s a baffling dodge, one that implicitly concedes that his words lack clarity, yet still insists they carry weight.

Second, trump’s barrage of words overwhelms the public—what strategist Steve Bannon once described as “flooding the zone with shit.” This torrent of contradiction and confusion offers plausible deniability. One moment, he says something outrageous; the next, he denies it or blames the “fake news.” The sheer volume numbs the audience. Supporters cherry-pick what they want to hear; everyone else starts to tune out entirely.

All of this leads to a central question: What can be done about a President who bullshits so much?

First, we must name it. As philosopher Harry Frankfurt wrote in his essay "On Bullshit," the bullshitter isn’t concerned with truth or lies—only with what the moment demands. Trump doesn’t lie in the traditional sense (only sometimes); he speaks without regard for truth at all. That distinction matters. We must stop treating his utterances as misstatements or spin. Call it what it is: bullshit.

Second, stop translating nonsense into policy. Too often, media analysts and pundits try to make sense of trump's verbal detritus. They turn stray comments into headlines, parse incoherent rants as if they reflect serious policy. Instead, the media should contextualize the incoherence. Shift the burden of clarity back to the speaker.

Third, the media must resist the spectacle. That means less live coverage, more filtered reporting. Fact-checking should follow, not accompany, the noise. And coverage should be proportional—just because the president speaks doesn't mean it's newsworthy.

Trump’s talking style is not a sideshow; it is the show. It is central to how he maintains power. Understanding that is the first step toward neutralizing its corrosive effects.

And because I never felt important enough

And because I never felt important enough

To my parents,

Or to my friends,

Or to my lovers,

Or to my spouse,

Or to my children,

Or to my customers and followers,

Let me feel important enough

O Lord

To you. 

Give It All Away

CLICK HEAR TO HEAR THE SONG

I think I fell in love last night—

Don’t even know her name.

But what they say about it's true:

I’ll never be the same.

A bomb was dropped, the sirens blared,

The army never came.

The streets are ash, the children scream—

They’ll never be the same.

I heard my sister died last night,

I saw her yesterday.

She read her feed then took a pill,

And slowly slipped away.

A bill came in the mail last night,

I swore I wouldn't pay.

I’m running from my broken brain,

And debts I can't repay.

Give it all away,

Give it all away.

Every time they make you bleed.

Give it all away,

Give it all away.

Every time they feed your need.

I haven’t slept at all tonight—

Only me to blame.

I feel my body filling up,

Then leaking out again.

My heart is pounding with the noise,

Of headlines, grief, and fame.

And part of me will not believe,

It's all a stupid game.

When you love, you don't count your losses,

Don't name your every pain.

Hold her close—but not too close—

And give it all away.

They lied to you, they’re lying still.

Don’t listen when they say,

That all of this is all there is,

Just give it all away.

Habemus Papam

I'll admit to getting caught up in all the excitement. Watching the news hour by hour for the white smoke to appear out of that wooden cabin-looking tin pipe atop the Sistine Chapel. It probably has something to do with the fact that I've been sick in bed for the past six days. But good TV is good TV, and what a showstopper at the end: the election of an American pontiff.

That seemed to come out of nowhere. Another first in our lifetime. I put it up there with the election of an African-American as President of the United States, which I never thought I'd see—well ahead of the election of the first convicted felon as President. You always imagine the occupant of the Vatican as someone who represents the Old World, not the New. Someone European, or—like the Argentinian Francis—someone who grew up speaking a European language and belonged to a soccer club. You don’t expect a man who spoke in Midwestern slang, rode the "L" train, listened to Studs Terkel on the radio, and cheered for the White Sox.

It’s hard not to juxtapose the two American world figures in your mind: Leo XIV, who spent his career working with the poor of Peru and now leads over a billion Catholics, and the narcissistic felon in the Oval Office who leads MAGA. Could the contrast be any greater? I dearly hope Leo understands how powerful that contrast can be if it's properly and strategically exploited.

It’s happened before—a pope leveraging his position on the world stage to effect meaningful global change. Popes who played it safe in the face of political turmoil have not fared well in history. For example, Pius XII, who was pope during World War II, has been witheringly criticized for his failure to confront the Holocaust with force or clarity. But others understood their historical moment. Pope John Paul II, for instance, was not only one of the most beloved figures of his era, but also an active political force: a voice against South African Apartheid, and an instrumental figure in the downfall of Communism in Eastern Europe.

Leo XIV is inheriting a world in duress—politically, economically, environmentally, and spiritually. I hope he understands the weight of that inheritance. We should begin to see his vision take shape soon, as he begins to plan visits to his global flock. A return visit to his home country should be high on the list. A papal visit to the United States—especially under its current political leadership—could prove more than symbolic. It could be catalytic. The attention, the crowds, the stark contrast in values—it would drive Trump mad.

We live in an age when moral clarity is rare and cynicism reigns. But history has shown that when the right figure steps onto the stage at the right moment, even institutions as ancient and cumbersome as the Catholic Church can become agents of change. Let’s hope Leo is that figure. And let’s hope he’s up for the challenge.

The Elephant’s Pirouette

In an election as massive and messy as a Canadian federal one, nuance rarely survives. Yet somehow, out of this unwieldy national ritual, emerged a gesture so precise and telling it bordered on poetic: Pierre Poilievre lost his seat.

That singular fact is, for me, the clearest sign of the surprising wisdom embedded in this election. It’s like watching an elephant perform a pirouette. You can’t help but ask—how is such art even possible?

Before the campaign began, my theory was simple: the towering Conservative lead wasn’t about love for Poilievre, but fatigue with Trudeau. Canadians weren’t necessarily shifting rightward—they were simply tired of the prime minister’s face on their screens, his carefully calibrated empathy, his tendency to emote rather than decide. The weariness calcified, for many, when Trudeau visited Mar-a-Lago. Predictably, trump called him “Governor”—a humiliation for all Canadians. That trip, tone-deaf in the extreme, marked the end of Trudeau’s political viability. He didn’t seem to grasp how trump would spin such a move—as submission. Trudeau had to go.

But that didn’t mean Poilievre was beloved. Quite the opposite. He had risen not on inspiration, but inertia—benefiting from the cyclical appetite for change that sets in after two terms of any government. And I suspected that the more Canadians saw and heard him, the less they would like him. On election night, that hunch proved correct—spectacularly so.

The Liberal Party, for all its flaws, remains an adroit political machine. First, it did the hard thing: removing an incumbent leader who had clearly lost the public’s trust. Then it made a strategic pivot, grasping that this election would not be about policy, but about existential leadership—about who could best defend Canada from the looming menace of a second trump presidency. They chose Mark Carney, a candidate who in almost every respect is trump’s opposite: intelligent, methodical, experienced, competent, decent. (Full disclosure: I voted for Chrystia Freeland in the leadership race. I was clearly wrong.)

Crucially, the Liberals blurred the policy lines between themselves and the Conservatives, narrowing the election to a binary choice of leadership. And it worked. What had seemed destined to be a three- or four-way vote-split realigned into a two-party race. Progressives moved away from the NDP. Singh, like Poilievre, lost his seat.

To be clear, the Conservatives still had a relatively strong night. They gained in popularity and in seats. The desire for change is real and growing. But they were ultimately undone by their leader’s deep unpopularity—especially in Quebec. And in a campaign focused on gravitas, trust, and moral steadiness, Poilievre’s gleeful combativeness wore thin.

Sometimes, democracy astonishes. Not because it always gets everything right—but because it occasionally gets the mood, the message, and the moment exactly right.

This was one of those times. An elephant just did a pirouette.

Proud of Canadians

I’m proud of Canadians. Even the politicians. This federal election campaign has been unusually substantive, marked by a tone of seriousness and purpose. Canadians, in turn, have responded with unprecedented numbers turning out for advanced polling. There’s a sense of civic engagement in the air that we haven’t seen since 1988—when Canadian sovereignty was also on the ballot, in the form of the proposed free trade agreement with the United States.

That fall, I had just returned from a year of graduate studies in Switzerland, after three years studying political science at McGill. I decided it was time to get real-world political experience, and a friend of my mother’s connected me with a Liberal candidate running on the South Shore of Montreal. Like him, I opposed the free trade deal. It wasn’t that I was against trade; I believed in international commerce. But I felt there needed to be safeguards. The fear, widely shared at the time, was that free trade with the U.S. would make us culturally, politically, and economically dependent on the ravenous giant to our south.

Thirty-seven years later, that fear seems less like paranoia and more like prophecy.

In 1988, both major parties offered versions of Canadian nationalism. Brian Mulroney’s Progressive Conservatives argued optimistically that Canada was ready to compete with the world, including the U.S., and that free trade would unleash our economic potential. The Liberals, under John Turner, argued defensively that the deal would lead to irreversible changes we’d be unable to resist—pressures that would compromise our sovereignty, culture, and policy independence. Both messages, in their own way, were nationalistic. One was hopeful; the other, cautionary. The hopeful one won by a landslide.

As it turns out, both were also right. In the decades that followed, Canada experienced growth and prosperity—but also wage stagnation, cultural dilution, and a deepening economic dependency on the U.S.

Today’s election feels like the inverse of 1988. Once again, Canadian sovereignty is part of the national conversation, but this time the threat isn’t a trade deal—it’s the political chaos seeping northward from the United States. And it has had a galvanizing effect. All of our major party leaders, regardless of ideology, have been forced by circumstance to strike a more unifying, forward-looking tone. This is how political leaders should behave: trying to build broad support by offering hopeful visions, not seeking power by dividing their opponents. This campaign is about how to make Canada stronger, more resilient, and fairer—not about who to blame for what’s broken.

That’s a sign of democratic health. The surest symptom of democratic decay is when politicians focus on wedge issues, stoke grievance, and pander to fear. Canadians, to their credit, seem unwilling to go down that road.

That’s why, I believe, Pierre Poilievre’s once-ascendant campaign has faltered. He built his brand around anger and antagonism. That approach resonated briefly, but when the national mood shifted—when Canadians began to look for hope—he couldn’t shift with it. Mark Carney, by contrast, has offered a consistently optimistic, constructive message. That positivity may well be the secret sauce of his continued success. Poilievre has tried to soften his tone in recent weeks, but it doesn’t come naturally to him, and it shows.

Voting should not just be a civic duty. It should be a hopeful act—a declaration that the future can be better, and that we can build it together. Politicians who trade in anger and cynicism don’t deserve to lead. And when they do win, as we’ve seen in the United States, the consequences can be catastrophic.

This election, Canadians appear to be choosing differently. That gives me hope—not just for the outcome, but for the country itself.

Yes, We Are Canadian

Not something in our character, 
To shout it out with pride.

Part of being Canadian,
Is a reluctance to take sides.

Our balance is our strength,
With steadiness and grace.
On skis, on blades, in a canoe,
No challenge we won't face.

We seek the quiet middle,

We’re a mix of many kin.
Stand tall as a Douglas Fir, 

Strong as a prairie wind.

We love in many languages,

We work in many fields.

Our voices and our values,

Express our shared ideals.

Yes, we are Canadian,

It's all we want to be. 

We sing it from the Rockies,

From the ice floes to the sea.  

Yes, we are Canadian,

It's all we want to be.

Nothing 'gainst the USA -

Just not a place for me.

We know who are our friends,

We honour every creed.

The flag we raise means unity —

Our symbol the maple leaf.

Our homes are always warm,

Our arms are always open.

With hearts vast as the wilderness,

Our spirits can't be broken.

We seek the quiet middle,

We’re a mix of many kin.
Stand tall as a Douglas fir, 

Strong as a prairie wind.

We love in many languages,

We work in many fields.

Our voices and our values,

Express our shared ideals.

Oui, nous sommes Canadiens,

Notre amours vaste comme cette terre, 

Nous le chantons des Rocheuses,
Jusqu’au bord du mer. 

Oui, nous sommes Canadiens,

Et c'est là qu'on vieillit.

Rien contre les États-Unis,

Mais ce n'est pas notre pays.

Yes, we are Canadian,

It's all we want to be. 

We'll sing it from the Rockies, 

From the ice floes to the sea.  

Yes, we are Canadian,

It's all we want to be.

Nothing 'gainst the USA -

Just not a place for me.

Now

According to the sage 

Past and future 

Memory and projection

Are figments of mind 

And the universe 

Gives birth anew

All the energy of creation

Coalescing in a single moment

We call now.

The Battle Royale

Like people born with different temperaments and talents, countries—shaped by geography, climate, history, and culture—excel at different things.

Canadians are great at hockey, curling, and being apologetic.

Norwegians excel at cross-country skiing and polar exploration.

Russians dominate chess, figure skating, ballet—and submitting to autocracy.

Americans are great at many things, but in one domain they are the undisputed world champions: consumption.

One estimate suggests the average U.S. household consumes over 15% more than the next closest country, and nearly four times more than what the Earth can sustainably provide.

China, meanwhile, holds a commanding lead in production. It accounts for nearly 32% of the world’s manufacturing output—double that of the second-place United States.

But Trump, who is incapable of imagining any relationship beyond a transaction, seems to believe the world’s greatest consumers can force the world’s greatest producers to submit to their will. That’s essentially the Battle Royale he’s been staging. What he fails to grasp is that we are all both consumers and producers—and that it's in everyone’s interest to have access to the widest array of goods at the lowest cost.

In his mind, Americans can produce anything—just like he’s sold anything and everything for a buck: Bibles, sneakers, guitars, steaks, board games, bottled water, clothing. The list is too long—and too ridiculous—to recite. The irony, of course, is that nearly all of it was made in China. And most of it failed. Maybe that’s where the resentment really comes from.

But what makes this moment so revealing isn’t just the clash of consumption vs. production. It’s that, like all real conflicts, it tests deeper human qualities: discipline, values, and character.

Trump lacks these traits entirely. And because he does, he cannot understand how other nations—who possess them—might endure and even outlast his economic attacks. His obsession with the so-called “trade deficit” masks a deeper truth: being a great producer takes discipline, ingenuity, and industriousness; being a great consumer requires nothing more than a big appetite and access to lots of credit - sort of a perfect description of trump himself.

This is no contest.  

Doing Something

This week, the trump administration sent Harvard University a demand letter. At first glance, it reads like a civics lesson on federal accountability. But peel back the rhetoric, and it’s something far more sweeping: a threat, wrapped in bureaucratic prose, aimed at coercing the oldest and most prestigious university in the United States into political compliance.

The letter’s core message can be summed up with an old idiom: he who pays the piper calls the tune. The piper, of course, is Harvard. The tune, according to this administration, is whatever the federal government decides it should be.

The letter is sprawling and, in many ways, meaningless—full of vague accusations and sweeping mandates. It accuses Harvard of failing to uphold federal civil rights laws but offers no evidence or legal justification. If there were actual violations, there are courts for that. But this isn’t about justice. It’s about control.

And control is exactly what the government is after. Early in the letter, the real agenda becomes clear: a demand for full oversight of hiring practices, admissions policies, student discipline, even the source and use of all foreign funds. Harvard is to “submit to a forensic audit,” “certify reports to the federal government,” and “ensure full transparency with federal regulators.” The scope of these demands reads like a blueprint for federal occupation—only with spreadsheets and subpoenas instead of soldiers.

There’s a paragraph about “Antisemitism and Other Biases.” But it’s really just about antisemitism, specifically referencing last summer’s campus protests. The letter demands names of faculty who allegedly “discriminated against Jewish or Israeli students” or encouraged rule-breaking after October 7. I can already hear many fellow Jews cheering, “Finally, the government is doing something about antisemitism!” But I wonder how they don’t—or won’t—see that this kind of “doing something” is a grave threat to institutional liberty.

This isn’t a defense of Harvard. The university has its flaws. But that’s the point—so do all institutions. What’s chilling is not that Harvard is being asked to reflect; it’s that it’s being told to submit. And what happens when other universities—without a $52 billion endowment—receive their own letters?

Fortunately, Harvard said no. President Alan M. Garber, himself Jewish, refused to yield. In response, the federal government froze $2.2 billion in grants. But this piper, for now, won’t be bought.

The real question is: who’s next—and will they be able to say no?

At The Seder Table

I imagine it's the sort of thing American families fear might happen at Thanksgiving dinner when talk turns to politics. In this case it did indeed involve an American - a Canadian-born cousin, living in the States for a couple of decades now, married to a lovely native-New Yorker and they have two children. He works on Wall Street and became an American citizen recently. We reconnect around this time every year when he is making plans to come back to Canada to attend our extended-family seder with his parents (we had 53 attendees this year). Two years ago, when we exchanged emails, he extolled to me the magical curative properties of Ivermectin against Covid. You can probably guess where this is going.

By the way, I really like him. He's a warm, enthusiastic fellow. Smart, friendly and passionate about many things including his Jewish identity. I appreciate that. I can't say I'm innocent for how things went down. To my wife's dismay - she generally wants to keep dinner talk, whether it be on weekdays, Shabbat, or holidays - as pleasant and anodyne as possible. For her food is love, and controversy of any kind, ruins the taste. Since Passover is the only time of year when my extended family gets together this is usually not a problem. The seder is more like an annual family reunion than a religious event. Most of the time is spent simply catching up on personal news, marvelling at how the kids have grown, and for the older generation, of which I am now an official part, getting health updates. But for me, respecting my wife's wishes presents a certain dilemma at the Passover table. The seder meal is all about having a deeply memorable and meaningful experience. 

It seems that the sages who constructed the Haggadah understood the potential for things to go off the rails when you get a bunch Jews together for dinner. They tried to fill the time as much as possible to keep unscripted interaction to a minimum. When we're not reading, we're acting out ritual, and when we're not acting out ritual, we're drinking glasses of wine (and getting drunk), and in between glasses of wine we're singing songs that seem to go on forever, to the point of crying for mercy - Dayenu!

But, there is the meal, and in between bites of food, opportunity for conversation and opinionation. As I say, there is something about Passover in particular, this holiday that commemorates the Israelite deliverance from slavery in Egypt, when we think about the redemption from captivity and the meaning of freedom, that brings out the Pharaoh in me. Well that's an exaggeration, but let's say my tolerance for banal, mundane table talk is at a minimum. One year, I became so despondent listening to people around our seder table gossiping and yakking about sundry nonsense, that I unceremoniously excused myself and didn't come back (I was the seder leader). My thought was, if they don't want to make this meaningful in the spirit of the holiday, then I'm not needed. My wife was not happy with my rudeness. As usual, she was right and I apologized. 

This year, meaningful discussion wasn't a problem - back to my newly-minted American citizen cousin. The conversation started innocently enough, about what our kids were doing. One of my daughters is attending McGill and his youngest daughter is starting university next year as well, at Emory. Atlanta I exclaim. That's an unusual choice. Remember he lives in New York, lots of great universities in and around the region. I have a hunch why Columbia wasn't her first choice, but I say nothing. Yeah, the universities in the American south are exploding in popularity, he says. In response to all the antisemitism at the Ivies. Places like Emory, Vanderbilt and Rice are seeing a massive uptick in admissions because the Jewish students don't feel safe. Florida universities are the safest, he says. I'd heard that from my brother whose daughter attends University of Florida in Gainesville. She saw no pro-Palestine protests on campus when they were in full swing last summer everywhere else. I mention that. It's great what the administration is doing to go after all the antisemitism at the universities, he says. By now I'm trying my best to hold my tongue, but can't. I say, so you agree that they should be cutting federal research grants and deporting students? Absolutely, he says, it's about time the government did something. Don't you believe in free speech? I ask. It's not free speech when you're pro-Hamas, he says. It's support of terrorism, and they have every right to cancel the Visa of any student for any reason. I say, they are expressing their political views, and expressing antisemitic views, as repugnant as they are, is not illegal. Anyway, if it got out of hand and resulted in harassment and vandalism, there are laws against that, and it's the responsibility of the local law enforcement and the university to handle it. There's a danger to the federal government using its power to go after people exercising a constitutional right.

That's when the discussion got interesting. He repeated that the government has the right to cancel their Visas if they burn the American flag and express anti-American views. The problem is that the United States has been too tolerant for too long of people who have anti-American values. I responded that in fact, burning the American flag, is not illegal. But it was his use of the term 'anti-American' that was most striking to me, reminiscent of another time considered by many as one of the darkest periods in US history, particularly for the exercise of free speech. I'm talking of course about the McCarthy era, and his House Un-American Activities Committee. A time of persecution in which America had a Grand Inquisitor, and Jews especially ones working in the arts, film and entertainment, were targeted for their communist sympathies and affiliations, and blacklisted. Now we're on the other side, it seems. 

My response to my cousin, when he used the term 'anti-American' was simply; And you, I suppose, know what constitutes 'anti-American'? 

I don't remember if he responded, but recall the conversation grinding to a halt. We both smiled to show that there were no hard feelings, exchanged supportive words to reassure the other family members listening in (including my wife, who seemed to support him), that it was good to have a friendly disagreement and share different perspectives. I think we meant it, at least I did. Then I said something about how the last time we disagreed it was about Ivermectin, and I chuckled. He said, yeah, not too long ago I was travelling with my son and he wasn't feeling well, so I gave him a dose of Ivermectin and it was miraculous, he was feeling great in less than an hour.  

Donald's Brain

Is there a scarier place on Earth than Donald's brain? Unfortunately, we're all trapped in it.

In a time when irony is dead, what could be more ironic than the last election, when the incumbent was forced to step aside because he was accused of lacking mental acuity due to age, and instead America chose to elect his opponent, a man of almost the same age and would be the oldest President in history, who was clearly suffering from mental incompetence in a form of criminal sociopathy and disassociation from reality, which we now see is getting worse with every passing day.   

Whatever you might have thought about Biden's verbal gaffes and painfully hesitant debate performance, the one thing you could always say with certainty is that he cares about responsible governance and always respected and listened to his expert advisors. What we have instead is a demented narcissist who doesn't believe in the rule of law or government, is bent on destroying them, and has surrounded himself with a group of lackey 'advisors' devoid of expertise and self-respect whose chief talent is for humiliating sycophancy. Whatever happens now depends on one thing and one thing above all: What goes on in trump's addled, warped mind. In that sense he is far closer to Kim Jong-Un and Putin (Hitler, Mussolini, Lenin, Stalin, Mao, Pol Pot, Louis XVI, Henry VIII etc.) than any other President in US history. The difference between trump and the rest of this rogue's gallery of tyrants, is that he is far more powerful and his actions potentially far more consequential, than they could ever be.  

Biographies are written about every US President in an effort to get at the source of their personality and thinking because there is the sense that it's significant to their presidency. The same will be done with Donald (and indeed already has), but perhaps for the first time the main research tool will be the DSM - the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders. The most accurate analysis I've heard of his political decision-making has focused on trump's amoral disordered mind, charitably called 'neuro-divergent'. For instance, when asked in the Oval why and when he decided to pause his 'reciprocal tariffs, trump answered, “Over the last few days, I’ve been thinking about it. I think it probably came together early this morning, fairly early this morning... We wrote it up from our hearts, right? It was written from the heart, and I think it was well written too.” This 'answer' about a Presidential decision with vast global consequences would be surreal if it wasn’t so insane. It sent the pundits and commentators scrambling for interpretation, trying to find some rationale or justification so the public could make sense of it. Is there some sort of hidden logic? 4D-chess? Ideology? Long-term plan or strategy? Criminality? Thought of any kind? If you answered none of the above in your Psychology 101 multiple choice midterm, that would probably be closest to the correct answer.

America was not made to be trapped in the mind of a mad king. In fact, America was constituted for the exact opposite, "...government of the people, by the people, for the people,” as Lincoln put it in the Gettysburg Address. America and the world is in a scary place now: The dark, cold, bat-shit encrusted cave of Donald’s Neanderthal brain (apologies to Neanderthals). And like caveman paleontology, any useful artifact you might find there is really nothing but a matter of pure speculation 

Who Do You Trust?

I walk 47 miles of barbed wire/ I use a cobra snake for a necktie/ I got a brand new house on the roadside/ Made from rattlesnake hide/ I got a brand new chimney made on top/ Made out of a human skull/ Now come on take a little walk with me, Arlene/ And tell me, who do you love?

Bo Diddley revolutionized rock 'n roll when he asked "Who Do You Love?" He was the first badass. But I gotta say, his description of himself and his lifestyle doesn't exactly instill confidence - "A rattlesnake necktie" and "a chimney made of human skull." Not what I'd be putting on my Tinder bio (if I had one). He's basically saying to his girl, take a chance with me. Which suggests he understands that the more important question is Who Do You Trust? 

"In God We Trust" is what it says on the American greenback - until this week the most trusted currency in the world - which is bizarre enough. Aside from the fact that it suggests only God is trustworthy ie. people can't really be trusted, Americans seem to equate God and money. 

But the more important message is that everything is built on trust: Every relationship, from love and family to business, every time you go to see the doctor, every time you get into your car to drive somewhere, every time you open your phone to get the news. Trust is literally the glue that holds the entire world together. And the more interconnected the world has become the more complex and confounding the network of trust is. 

It wasn't too long ago when doctors made housecalls. You knew your 'green grocer' and dairy was delivered to your home by a milkman. Ours was named Maurice, and he drove an orange Guaranteed Milk Truck that had sliding doors, sort of like the Amazon Prime delivery vans you see today. Maurice would give me and my friends rides down the block with the doors open. But trust was not only a function of neighbourhood relationships. A sense of trust existed at many levels of society. For instance, in every household we watched the 6 o'clock news on television when dad got home from work. It was  a national ritual everyone shared. There were four or five channels, the broadcasts delivered more or less the same information, and CBS anchorman Walter Cronkite was called 'the Most Trusted Man in America'.

I'm not saying this to wax nostalgic, but rather to describe how fragmented our world has become, and  the tangible way that fragmentation has impacted our daily activities and interactions. Sixty years ago, it was much easier to decide if people were trustworthy when you dealt with them face to face on a regular and ongoing basis, and I believe this translated into a general feeling of trust and security in society at large. The world we live in is impersonal and remote. The crises we are facing today - and I use the plural term because it's multiple crises political, economic, cultural, layered one on top of the other, like a cake - is actually only one crisis: A crisis of trust. People don't know who to trust, so they end up trusting no one, and the reality they live in loses meaning and coherence. They self-cocoon with their screens. When that happens they become susceptible to believing the most outlandish ideas; conspiracies, fanatical religions, extreme politics, grasping for anyone and anything that projects certainty and confidence. 

A talent for gaining the confidence of people is the main trait of every snake oil salesman and swindler - that's why they call him a con-man. Trump is not the cause of the crisis we find ourselves in, he is a symptom of it. His main talent for exploiting insecurity could not have asked for a more fertile environment in which to operate. A person like him, without principles, values or morals, thrives in an environment where trust is low. His followers are devoted to him not because they are stupid, but because they are desperate. The one thing he offers his constituents that the Democrats have failed miserably at, is vision, even if it's the most absurd, impractical, cynical and backward-looking one. In trump's case, it's a vision of security provided by a fence that Mexico would pay for, or the security of manufacturing jobs that would come flooding back to America once the tariffs start working their magic, or the security of Russia making peace with Ukraine in 24 hours etc. It doesn't matter if the vision has any relationship to reality, it's the vision that counts. In some sense the more outlandish the vision the more deeply committed the followers of the visionary become, often at their own personal expense. And once the followers have committed it's nearly impossible to get them back - the hardest thing to admit is that you're wrong. Trumpism is unique in that it combines elements of nihilistic religious devotion and craven individual self-interest, which makes it an undeniably potent and dangerous political force. Trump will inevitably self-destruct, but it won't be because the cheering crowds will suddenly realize that the emperor has no clothes. He'll push the envelope too far. He's done it several times before, but got lucky and survived. His luck will eventually run out, as it always does at some point.    

In the meantime, he will continue to do further damage to the already-deficient and declining level of trust that exists in society. I'm not sure what we can do to restore it at this point. I'm just hoping that it doesn't take a catastrophe to do a re-set.  

Thin Skinned Jews

Jews are as worthy of criticism as anyone else. If they can dish it - and they do that as well as anyone - then they should be able to take it too.

First, let me say that there’s something deeply ironic about what is going on at the top American universities: A purge by the government to ‘cleanse’ the institutions of their antisemitism. It's being done against the administrations by threatening to cancel billions of dollars in federal research grants. Cowering in fear, the faculties appear to be caving one by one to the pressure. It's also being done against individual student activists being accosted by federal goons sometimes wearing ski masks to hide their identities. The students, who are legally in the country, get hauled off for detention, usually to other states, without due process. This purge is using antisemitism as a hammer against free speech and the rule of law, as the Yale philosophy professor Jason Stanley puts it. The irony of course is that it wasn’t too long ago that many of these same universities practiced discrimination against Jews in a variety of ways, including admission quotas and practices designed to ensure that Jewish students could not participate fully in campus life and organizations. For more on this I recommend a podcast called Gatecrashers. 

Stanley, a child of Holocaust survivors, who has taught at Yale for twelve years and written books on fascism, has publicly announced that he has taken a position to teach next semester at the University of Toronto. He says he will be leaving his home country because life has become untenable for him and his two Jewish African-American children. His move is clearly intended as a political statement as much as a career decision. As an academician, Stanley is appalled at the attack on free speech he is witnessing on campus as well as the craven capitulation of the administrations. But even more, he is angry as a Jew. I suspect he feels a lot like I do. 

Here’s what I find so hard to swallow: Jews have always been sort of experts in the field of self-examination, analysis and criticism. It’s a tradition, part of the Jewish cultural DNA. Which is why witnessing Jews who can dish it out but can’t seem to take it, turns my stomach. I'm talking about the Jews who are cheering on the trump regime's anti-DEI kapos as they go after the universities in the name of protecting Jews on campus. The idea that Jews would support a blatant threat to freedom of speech and the rule of law because of name-calling, or offensive chants, is one obvious point. But also, to side with the likes of trump, who famously dined at Mar-a-lago with neo-Nazi leaders and called them very fine people after they chanted "Jews will not replace us" at their Charlottesville hate rally, makes it even worse. How thin-skinned do you have to be to seek the protection of an unconstitutional, immoral, anti-democratic, felon extortionist because you feel threatened by a bunch of ill-informed, nose-ringed, flag-waving, social-justice warrior kids chanting slogans they barely understand?

Unwise as well. Are we not supposed to think that there won't be an antisemitic backlash against the Jews for getting into bed with the autocrat? In what world are we not expecting that it won't take long before the Jews are blamed for controlling these authoritarian goons? It's the oldest and most enduring antisemitic trope there is.

I'm not naive. This week my youngest daughter who is a first year student at McGill was unable to attend classes on two occasions because she was blockaded from entering the classroom by pro-Palestine protesters. She spoke to her teacher who was standing passively outside the classroom, asking her what she was going to do. The teacher responded by simply saying class was cancelled. My daughter said her impression was that the teacher was sympathetic to the blockade and that's why she didn't demand the protesters be removed by campus security. The McGill administration seems to have learned very little from the debacle of last summer's disruptive and destructive protests, so there's a good chance it'll get worse.

But that isn't a reason to side with the fascist goons trying to quell a basic constitutional right. There's a steep price to pay for cowardice for the sake of expediency. This week another example was the disgraceful settlement with the trump regime announced by the prestigious New York law firm Paul Weiss. The blue chip partnership caved, fearing that if they didn't, their mergers and acquisitions business would suffer because their deals would be refused government regulatory approval. In announcing the settlement, Weiss Chairman Brad Karp invoked the name of the firm's co-founder Simon Rifkind, a revered legal figure. Two of Judge Rifkind's granddaughters, lawyers themselves, took him to task for it in a letter made public. It's really worth reading. Paul Weiss and other 'Jewish' law firms were established at a time when it was not easy for Jews to find work in the legal profession, so they had to strike out on their own. The letter is a reminder that when you bend the knee, you know where you stand.

My body reminds me

My body reminds me that I am my body,

My body is me, as a tree is a tree.

Should I, at times, have a mind to disagree,

My body reminds how it feels to be me.

My body speaks when a thought arises,

How and from where always surprises.

My thought says "move," and my body complies,

Or my body moves 'fore my thought apprises.

My body reminds me of entropy,

A law of nature, a stark decree.

Life is unique, yet nothing is free—

Disorder increases, degree by degree.

A threadbare coat frays at the seams,

A weathered barn sags with rotting beams.

An empire falls with failing regimes,

A dream is a dream—and only a dream.

My body reminds me that I am my body,

My body is me, as a tree is a tree.

Should I, at times, have a mind to disagree,

My body reminds how it feels to be me.

Trump Teaches a Lesson (in Economics, Geography and History)

There's so much to love 

about Trump,

but most of all the way he makes us laugh.

Today it was tariffs,

which some are calling a tax

we pay when we buy things,

but others are not so sure. Trump

says it'll teach those nasty Canadians

for taking advantage of our big

American hearts (and bank accounts).   

And then he shows this chart of import tariff rates

he's 'charging' to other countries,

and on it are a bunch of places

I've never heard of 

so I Googled them:

Heard and McDonald Islands,

off the coast of Antarctica with no inhabitants 

(except seals and penguins)

who get slapped with a 10% tariff;

Svalbard and Jan Mayen,

uninhabited volcanic islands in the Arctic Ocean

get slapped with a 5% tariff;

Norfolk Island, off the coast of Australia,

population 2,000 -

those people must be especially mean to Americans -

gets hit with a 29% tariff; 

somewhere called Réunion,

which is what a family does when they miss each other, 

gets a 37% tariff.

And anyone know where Tokelau is?

Saint-Pierre and Miquelon? They get tariffs too.

Trump has to be a 'stable genius' like he says

to know so much about the world.

Switzerland gets a punishing 31% tariff,

mostly on watches and chocolates I suppose.

I know where Switzerland is

(I actually lived there for a year)

and can't argue with that one.

Switzerland deserves every punishment it gets

for hiding Nazi loot. They are politically neutral,

but everyone knows neutrality is a lie.

It's 'Liberation Day' Trump cheers!

Of course, I think of D-Day, WW2,

how the fascists fascinated us

with their big show of strength,

their tanks and pressed black uniforms,

their death camps and efficiency,

because they were really weak inside,

in their messy hearts,

and it eventually destroyed them.

Hitler was a funny little psychopath,

easy for Charlie Chaplin to parody

in The Great Dictator 

and make us laugh.

Where was I?

Oh yeah, the best teachers make us laugh.