On Tuesday, Israel and Hezbollah, the Iranian-backed militant group in Lebanon, agreed to a cease-fire. The arrangement is a win for outgoing President Joe Biden, who has followed a hapless policy course through a calamitous year for the Middle East.

Ever since the Hamas attack on Israel on October 7, 2023, the Biden administration’s goal in the Middle East has been to contain the conflict. That policy didn’t exactly succeed: The fighting spread to Lebanon and even led to exchanges of fire between Israel and Iran. In the meantime, Washington gave Israel virtual carte blanche in Gaza, particularly in the first few months of the war; in doing so, it implicated itself in a war that has exacted a heavy toll not just on Hamas but on the people of Gaza. Israel’s onslaught has killed more than 44,000 Palestinians, mostly civilians, and displaced nearly the entire population of 2.2 million, many of them multiple times. An estimated 66 percent of structures that once stood in the Strip have been damaged or destroyed. And at every step, Israel dictated the scope and nature of the conflict, not just to its adversaries but also to Washington, escalating to the brink of all-out war with Iran.

Now Washington has helped broker a cease-fire, not in Gaza, but in Lebanon and northern Israel. If it holds, Biden may leave office able to say that he averted a regional war that could have drawn in the United States and others.

[Read: ‘The Iranian period is finished’]

The agreement likely will hold, because it serves the interests of all the parties directly involved. Hezbollah desperately needs the hiatus to regroup. Israel has assassinated most of its political leaders and battlefield commanders, including Hassan Nasrallah, and demolished much of its arsenal of rockets and missiles. The organization’s command-and-control capabilities are shattered, and many of its best fighters have been killed or badly wounded. Iran could use the pause to reconsider its national-security strategy: Hezbollah was the centerpiece of Iran’s forward defense, yet it turned out to be unable to deter or successfully combat Israel. The Lebanese militia either could not or would not fire large numbers of missiles on Israeli cities, such as Haifa, or strategic targets, such as the Dimona nuclear reactor.

Israel likely welcomes the cease-fire because it, too, is near exhaustion. Its munitions are depleted and its military overstretched, even as the insurgency in Gaza appears to be intensifying, however gradually. Israel has achieved virtually all of its most ambitious goals in Lebanon and stands to gain very little by continuing the conflict. It may even have risked reinvigorating Hezbollah had it overstayed, in the same way that the Israeli occupation of southern Lebanon from 1982 to 2000 led to the establishment of  the organization in the first place.

The negotiators, led by the Biden administration but also including France and others, were able to succeed because both sides had a clear interest in drawing down the conflict. The war in Gaza stands in stark relief. There, the two parties—the Israeli government and the remnants of Hamas’s leadership—both calculate that continuing to fight will further their political interests.

[Read: Israel and Hamas are kidding themselves]

By contrast, the Israeli military and public were eager to end the war with Hezbollah, especially on advantageous terms. Hezbollah has been so devastated that it was willing to agree to conditions it might once have deemed humiliating. The militia will withdraw its personnel and heavy equipment from southern Lebanon up to the Litani River, about 15 miles north of the border with Israel, as it was originally required to do by the United Nations resolution that ended the fighting in 2006. The Lebanese military and UN peacekeepers will fill the void, maintain order, and ensure that Hezbollah doesn’t return. Israel has agreed to a phased withdrawal from Lebanon, but the agreement stipulates that Israel and Lebanon can still exercise their “inherent right of self-defense,” which Israeli officials have signaled they see as a license to strike Hezbollah if they believe it is violating the terms of the cease-fire. That Hezbollah and Iran agreed to this imbalanced arrangement shows the extent of Israel’s military advantage and the decisiveness of its victory in this round of battle.

The Biden administration will be handing Donald Trump a Middle East that is still smoldering but no longer on the verge of explosion. Trump’s minions are already trying to suggest—preposterously—that his reelection is the main reason for the cease-fire. Biden’s Gaza-war policy has been indefensible as well as inept, in that it failed to prevent the Israeli invasion of Lebanon. But the president will leave office able to count as a success a deal that forestalls any realistic prospect of a large-scale, multifront, regional war in the Middle East.

The warrants issued by the International Criminal Court against Israel’s prime minister and former defense minister represent many historic firsts. They would be the court’s first prosecutions of leaders in a liberal Western democracy, and represent the first time anyone has been charged with the “crime of starvation”; the first time the court has accused a country of war crimes during a defensive war against an external invader; and the first prosecution of a non–member state at the bequest of a member that is not generally recognized as a state.

For all of these juristic innovations, the warrants also represent something entirely familiar: an international institution, created to serve high and noble purposes, succumbing to the temptation of pursuing an anti-Israel agenda. This phenomenon is on routine display at the United Nations’ General Assembly and Human Rights Council.

The charges are baseless as a matter of law and fact, issued by a court with no jurisdiction, alleging as crimes things that simply never happened, while ignoring settled international law and practice. But before turning to the Israel warrants, we need to understand what the ICC really is.

[Arash Azizi: The International Criminal Court shows its mettle]

The ICC, seated in the Netherlands in The Hague, was created in 1998 by a treaty known as the Rome Statute, to provide a forum where the perpetrators of the world’s worst atrocities could be prosecuted, a kind of permanent Nuremberg Tribunal. The new court would not impinge upon national sovereignty, because it would have jurisdiction only over countries that voluntarily joined. In the optimistic decade between the fall of the Soviet Union and the attacks of 9/11, some hoped that the court would lead to an “end to impunity” for mass atrocities—such as the Bosnian and Rwandan genocides—and lead to a “rules-based international order.”

That dream has never seemed further off. A quarter century later, most of the world’s population lives in countries that never joined the court—including the United States and China, India and Pakistan, and pretty much the entire Middle East. Many of the countries that joined the ICC face little serious prospect of engaging in armed conflict; for them, membership entails little risk, and is merely a feel-good ritual.

Despite a roughly $200 million annual budget, the tribunal has convicted only six people of perpetrating the mass atrocities it was created to address. Numerous high-profile cases have collapsed. Its indictments against incumbent dictators such as Russia’s Vladimir Putin have been laughed off. The current and past presidents of Kenya both rode ICC indictments to reelection. (The cases against them had been dropped because of what the ICC’s presiding judge described as “witness interference,” a claim the ICC disputed.) Two countries have quit the court altogether, shaking belief in the inevitable, gradual expansion of The Hague’s writ.

The composition of the ICC’s membership has created a serious problem for the court. The largest concentration of member states is in Africa, but every defendant tried by the Court has been a sub-Saharan African, leading to a threat of mass walkout by African Union states.

The charges against Israel can be understood, in part, as a solution to this predicament. They serve to deflect criticism of the court as a Western tool, and were received with enthusiasm by international NGOs. And they come with a major advantage: As a non–member state, Israel can’t quit in protest.

But that also means the court should not, by rights, have jurisdiction over Israel. To overcome this obstacle, the court decided that Palestine is a state that can join the court, despite not satisfying the legal criteria for statehood. Such an exception has not been made for any other entity. It also controversially decided that Gaza was part of that state, in addition to the West Bank, despite each having had an entirely different government for nearly two decades.

Then the ICC ignored a second limitation on its reach. Its governing statute instructs it to intervene only when a state is “unwilling or unable” to prosecute crimes by its leaders, in order to shield them from responsibility. Not only is Israel’s attorney general willing to prosecute Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu—she is already doing so in several high-profile cases involving alleged corruption.

The more likely reason the Israeli justice system is not pursuing the charges brought by the ICC is because they appear to be unfounded. The main thrust of the court’s claims (the details of which remain sealed by the tribunal) is that Israel purposefully starved the people of Gaza, as well as restricted electricity to the area. Yet in June, the UN’s own hunger watchdog released a report denying that famine occurred during the period addressed by the prosecutor. Nor does Israel’s allowing shipments of food into the Gaza Strip, which one estimate placed at more than 3,000 calories a day per person, suggest an attempt to starve the population, even if conditions in parts of the Strip have been dire.

Hamas controls food distribution within Gaza, and has been seizing aid convoys. Aid groups complain that Israel has been constricting the flow of food into Gaza; Israel counters that aid has piled up on the Gaza side of the border without distribution. Moreover, international law allows for besieging an enemy force, even if civilians are within the besieged area. Exceptions allow for the provision of essential medical supplies, but even those exceptions are suspended when there is a credible fear of “diversion” to the enemy force, as there surely is with Hamas. If anything, Israel is being blamed for Hamas’s starvation of its own population.

Supporters of the ICC should be embarrassed that its decision was cheered by Hamas and Hezbollah. Those groups understand that the court’s indictments of Israeli officials will make it more difficult for Israel to defend itself. Yet the ICC cannot deter dictators and warlords, because they can fall into its hands only if they lose power. If they remain in power despite their atrocities, a minor crimp in their travel plans is more than offset by the power and wealth they will enjoy.  The three Hamas leaders indicted by the tribunal have already been killed by Israel; they might have preferred a cell in The Hague.

Leaders of democracies must make different calculations; they rotate out of power, and their private benefits in office are relatively minimal. ICC warrants against them, even if entirely unjustified, could deter them from vigorously and lawfully prosecuting defensive wars, for which their civilian populations would pay the price. Thus, the prosecutions of Israeli officials will actually make war crimes more likely, by tipping the scales against liberal democracies.

All of this poses a threat to the U.S.—as a non–member state that engages in a high level of global armed conflict—as well as to its leaders and soldiers. The ICC could recognize the Islamic State in the Levant as a “state” for purposes of its jurisdiction, just as easily as it recognized Palestine, and investigate American officials for alleged crimes during the U.S.-led campaign against the terror group. That campaign, started during Barack Obama’s presidency, included battles in Mosul, where an effort to evict approximately 5,000 ISIS fighters in the city led to perhaps 10,000 civilian deaths and the destruction of the city. The ICC did not have jurisdiction, because Iraq had not joined the treaty—but the Palestine precedent shows that this is not an insurmountable problem.

[Gershom Gorenberg: Israel’s disaster foretold]

The ICC’s disregard for law also threatens American troops on counterterror missions in countries that have joined the ICC. Washington has long relied on treaties signed with such countries as a safeguard against Hague jurisdiction, but the tribunal’s boundless view of its powers gives no assurance that those treaties will be honored.

This is not far-fetched: The ICC is already investigating alleged U.S. crimes in Afghanistan. Indeed, the ICC prosecutor recently suggested that sitting U.S. senators may have committed crimes against the court’s charter by speaking out in support of bipartisan legislation that would impose sanctions on the body.

Not all efforts to solve the world’s problems work—some backfire. The high aspirations with which the tribunal was founded should not shield it from the consequences of its decision to pursue other agendas.

Passing judgment on the Israeli-Palestinian conflict was never going to be simple for the International Criminal Court. Even harder than acting fairly and impartially would be appearing to have done so, in a conflict that stirs fierce passions the world over.

On top of that, equality before the law is a basic principle of justice, but until this point, the ICC has mainly prosecuted authoritarian and non-Western leaders. Almost all of the court’s top funders are Western democracies or their allies. Now, for the first time in its history, the ICC would be asked to assess the actions of a democratically elected government allied with the West, and to show that it could do so without special favor.

Last Thursday, the ICC rose to this challenge. A three-person panel at the court approved arrest-warrant requests for Israel’s prime minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, and former Defense Minister Yoav Gallant. The Israeli officials are accused of war crimes and crimes against humanity, including the murder and starvation of Palestinians.

[Eugene Kontorovich: The International Criminal Court’s folly]

Back in May, prosecutors also asked for arrest warrants for three Hamas leaders, who stand accused of extermination, murder, rape, and sexual assault against Israeli citizens during the attacks of October 7. Two of the three (Ismail Haniyeh and Yahya Sinwar) have since been killed by Israel. The ICC issued the arrest warrant for the third, Mohammed Deif. Israel claims to have killed him too, but Hamas has not confirmed his death.

The three judges who made the decision hail from Benin, France, and Slovenia, but were elected by all 124 member states of the ICC and went through a rigorous vetting process. Their months-long deliberations included engaging with the Israeli government and assessing its claim that its own courts could handle the matter.

Since its foundation, in 2002, the ICC has investigated crimes all over the world. It is limited in both the types of crimes it can investigate (genocide, war crimes, crimes against humanity, and aggression) and its territorial jurisdiction (restricted mostly to its member states, which include countries in the European Union, Latin America, the antipodes, and half of Africa). Yet it has managed to levy charges for crimes committed in 17 countries and issue arrest warrants for despots such as Vladimir Putin, Muammar Qaddafi, and Omar al-Bashir.

For years, however, many non-Western leaders have accused the court of having a pro-Western bias. The arrest warrants against Israeli leaders offer the ICC an opportunity to prove otherwise. But much will depend on how seriously countries allied with Israel take the court’s orders.

The court’s members include the majority of Western countries, which will now be obligated to arrest Netanyahu or Gallant if either sets foot in their territory. Canada, one of the court’s biggest funders, was among the first to commit to doing so. Belgium, Ireland, Portugal, Norway, Australia, Spain, Liechtenstein, the Czech Republic, Finland, the Netherlands, Denmark, and Slovenia have followed suit. Most other Western countries have treated the warrant with vagueness, generally agreeing that it is valid without committing specifically to arresting Netanyahu and Gallant.

Initially, only one EU member, Viktor Orbán’s Hungary, a self-described “illiberal democracy,” outright opposed the warrant and even asked Netanyahu to visit. But on November 27, France declared that it considered Netanyahu immune from the ICC’s order because Israel is not a member of the court. If this principle is to be applied elsewhere, Putin, too, should be considered immune, given Russia’s non-membership in the ICC. The United States is also not a member of the court and is in fact openly hostile to its operations. The Biden administration has declared its disagreement with the arrest warrants, and surrogates of President-Elect Donald Trump have accused the court of anti-Semitism, promising a much tougher approach when Trump comes into office.

Netanyahu, like many others wanted by the court, will probably never appear before it. But that doesn’t make the ruling meaningless. International law has always been aspirational, in part because the world lacks an international law-enforcement agency (Interpol serves only to coordinate among various national police forces). But international justice has more significance in the world today than at any previous time in human history. Dozens of treaties obligate countries around the world and are referenced every day in national and transnational courts, sometimes leading to real results for victims and perpetrators. Viewed from a long historical perspective, this is a grand achievement. And last week’s ruling, by demonstrating an equal application of international law to a Western country, advances that cause.

In Governing the World: The History of an Idea, the historian Mark Mazower writes that the quest for a global court began before the First World War, with an enthusiastic, international group of peace activists who hoped that arbitration could bring an end to war. President Theodore Roosevelt, an ardent supporter of that movement, helped give tooth to the Permanent Court of Arbitration, founded in 1899 at The Hague. But advocates’ hopes soon crashed into the gory realities of the 20th century. The First World War killed millions. The League of Nations, created in its aftermath, was soon overtaken by events: Liberalism retreated behind fascism and communism in the 1930s, and a Second World War followed the first, culminating in atrocities with little precedent in human history.

[Arash Azizi: The problem with boycotting Israel]

Still, the quest for international justice did not die. The defeat of Nazi Germany and of Japan, and the revelation of the extraordinary extent of their crimes, led to international trials in Nuremberg and Tokyo and the foundation of the United Nations.

Nearly a century later, the International Criminal Court was founded during the optimistic period that followed the fall of the Soviet Union, in 1991. Democracy appeared ascendant, maybe even inevitable. The genocides in Rwanda and the territories of the former Yugoslavia tempered that period’s hopes—but they were met with international tribunals, which held out the promise that war criminals could no longer expect impunity. A United Nations conference in 1998, attended by representatives of 161 states, adopted the Rome Statute, which established the ICC four years later.

Many of the legal professionals who went to work for the ICC had been shaped by the experience of working for the ad hoc tribunals for Rwanda and Yugoslavia, which were relatively successful in delivering verdicts against human-rights offenders. For example, the Iranian Canadian lawyer Payam Akhavan served as a legal adviser at the tribunals for both Rwanda and Yugoslavia and then argued cases before the ICC, where he represented post-Qaddafi Libya as the country attempted to bring officials of the former regime to justice. In his book, In Search of a Better World: A Human Rights Odyssey, Akhavan describes the establishment of the ICC as the consummation of the idea of justice propounded at Nuremberg.

But the ICC has been bedeviled by controversy for much of its short life. In its early years, the court focused largely on African war criminals, because many of its member states were African. This led to allegations of bias. In the years since, it has expanded its operations across the world. And yet, most people live in countries where the court has no jurisdiction. Powerful nations such as China, India, Indonesia, and Saudi Arabia never joined. The United States, Israel, and Russia signed the Rome Statute but then withdrew their signatures. The year the court was founded, the United States adopted the American Service-Members’ Protection Act, in which it promised to take any necessary measures to release “any U.S. or allied personnel” detained by the court.

A far simpler way of denying the court’s authority is to ignore it. In 2015, South Africa refused to arrest Sudanese President Omar al-Bashir despite an ICC warrant. Earlier this year, Mongolia all but rolled out the red carpet for a visit from Russian President Vladimir Putin, the ICC’s warrant for his arrest notwithstanding.

But none of this means that the court, or the quest for international justice more broadly, is ineffectual. Putin has had to skip many an international summit (he skipped the recent Group of 20 meeting in Brazil, just as he did last year’s BRICS meeting in South Africa). And the ICC’s legal work can be used by other courts to prosecute alleged perpetrators. In the case of Israel, Netanyahu and Gallant are unlikely to ever be tried in The Hague, but the world has become much smaller for them. The warrants also provide an opportunity for Israel’s judicial system to prove its mettle: The ICC has declared that if Israel chooses to prosecute the allegations in its national court system, the warrants will be dropped.

The quest to have human conflicts decided by men and women in robes and wigs, and not just those in berets and boots, should resonate deeply with Israel’s founding ideals. The state’s declaration of independence in 1948 promised that it was “the natural right of the Jewish people to be masters of their own fate, like all other nations, in their own sovereign State.” But it anchored this right in international law, pointing to the newly formed United Nations, which is mentioned seven times in the declaration.

Israel’s first government was led by nationalists and socialists. But the country’s first justice minister, and the architect of its judicial system, was one of the few signatories of the declaration who defined himself primarily as a liberal. A Berlin-born lawyer, Pinchas Rosen had moved to the British Mandate for Palestine in 1926, at the age of 39, having earned law degrees in Germany before the country’s liberal traditions were destroyed by Nazism.

Israel was hardly a liberal paradise in its early years. It enforced a military rule over its Arab citizens until 1966. But Rosen did establish a robust court system and was adamant that the State of Israel was to be a state of law. The country joined the United Nations and, with such legendary diplomats as the British-educated Abba Eban, overcame the isolation of its early years to establish a seat for itself at the table of international law. Israel’s occupation of Palestinian territories since 1967 has rightly called that commitment to the law into question; but it has also been the subject of contestation within the country.

[Gershom Gorenberg: Israel’s disaster foretold]

Practically all of Israel’s political leaders have condemned the ICC’s decision. But some voices of dissent are audible. Naama Lazimi, a progressive member of the Knesset, called Thursday “a sad day for Israel” and put the blame for the decision on Netanyahu, not the court. “This was unnecessary,” she wrote on X, adding that it could have been avoided if the Israeli government had undertaken an independent inquiry and pursued a settlement to end the war and return the hostages held by Hamas. “But Netanyahu chose and still chooses his own position and cynical and personal interests,” she concluded: “The Hague has come out against Netanyahu, Netanyahu against Israel.” The Israeli organization Peace Now has taken a similar position, blaming the country’s leadership.

The long-term interests of Israel and those of enthusiasts for international law need not diverge. As a small country with many ill-wishers, surrounded by militias that clamor for its destruction, Israel often feels itself under siege and classifies any action against it as an unforgivable betrayal. But the country owes much of its past success to its recognition under international law and its membership in the community of democratic nations. Illegally occupying the Palestinian territories, and disregarding competent international forums such as ICC, serve to undermine that status. A world where liberal democratic norms, such as respect for international legal institutions, are more prevalent will ultimately be a safer one for Israel, especially if it wishes to fulfill the dream of its founders to be a Jewish and democratic state.  

The call from The Hague should thus be seen as an urgent message that the country needs to correct its course and step back from the campaign it has pursued since October 2023. True friends of Israel are not those who attempt to shield it from international justice. They are those who remind it that as a sovereign nation, it has the right to defend itself—but not the right to be immune from legal judgment.

President Joe Biden aims for a deal involving the release of hostages and the removal of Hamas from power.

The scandal rocking Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s inner circle began with a headline in giant type announcing Hamas’s “horrifying” plans for Israeli hostages, and an exclusive story about a document “said to be” from the computer of the organization’s then-leader, Yahya Sinwar. The headline appeared in German but precisely fit Netanyahu’s domestic needs.

The date was September 6. Less than a week had passed since the corpses of six Israeli hostages, shot by their Hamas captors, were found in a tunnel in Gaza. Protesters filled Israeli streets night after night, calling for a hostage deal and expressing anger that Netanyahu had prevented an agreement that could have saved the six. Funerals for the murdered captives drew thousands of people.

All of which played into Hamas’s strategy. So said the supposed Sinwar document that Bild, Germany’s largest newspaper, had obtained. The document called for exploiting “psychological pressure” on the families of Israeli hostages “so that public pressure on the enemy [Israeli] government increases.” Talks on a hostage deal, meanwhile, could be dragged out long enough for Hamas to rebuild its military, the paper’s paraphrase of the document said.

[Read: Israel’s PR-war pandemonium]

Israeli media quickly echoed the report. Netanyahu leaped on it. In his weekly statement to the media before the cabinet met, he said that Bild had revealed Hamas’s plan “to sow discord among us … to tear us apart from within … until Israel is defeated.” Most Israelis weren’t “falling into this Hamas trap,” he added. The protesters, by implication, were the tools of Israel’s enemy.

If publication of the Hamas document seemed too convenient for Netanyahu’s political purposes, that may be because it was. On Thursday, a Netanyahu spokesperson was indicted on the espionage charge of revealing classified information with the intent to damage state security, which carries a maximum sentence of life in prison. The spokesperson, arrested late last month, gave the contents of a top-secret document to the German paper in order to “slant the public conversation about the hostages” in Israel, the indictment says. Another close adviser of and spokesperson for the prime minister has been questioned by police and is named, but not charged, in the indictment, which states that the leak could compromise Israeli espionage “capabilities.” This means that the intelligence community could lose the long investment it has made in developing a source, as well as the information that source could provide in the future. A court ruling last week, partially lifting a gag order, said the leak may also have harmed efforts to free hostages.

As portrayed in those court documents, members of Netanyahu’s staff have shown themselves willing to pay an astonishing price for deflecting criticism of the prime minister’s war policy. Because of military secrecy and court gag orders, a full picture of the case has yet to emerge. But the indictment and other legal documents tell part of the story.

When the Bild article came out, it reportedly set off alarms in Israeli military intelligence, which realized that the story was based on a top-secret document leaked from within the army. But army sources told Israel media that the document came from a minor Hamas figure, not Sinwar, and did not mention a lack of interest in a hostage deal.

Shin Bet, Israel’s domestic intelligence agency, investigated the leak and traced it to a noncommissioned officer, who had allegedly seen the document and decided that it needed to reach Netanyahu. The leaker’s motive is unknown, though it may be linked to a conspiratorial narrative, reportedly promoted by Netanyahu, that the military has hidden vital information from the prime minister since before the war. (In fact, the indictment says, more relevant and up-to-date intelligence had already been conveyed to the correct address.) The noncommissioned officer allegedly made contact with Eli Feldstein, a Netanyahu spokesperson, and sent him a photo of the document and a Hebrew translation via Telegram.

Feldstein is himself an ex-officer and a former spokesperson for the Israeli-military division in the West Bank. After leaving the army, he was a spokesperson for Israel’s far-right national-security minister, Itamar Ben-Gvir. Last October, just after the war began, Netanyahu took on Feldstein as his point man for military correspondents.

In April, the indictment says, Feldstein failed a Shin Bet security-clearance check and was found unfit to handle highly classified material. Yet Netanyahu kept him on, and he regularly visited the Israeli military headquarters, in Tel Aviv.

The noncommissioned officer allegedly passed the document to Feldstein last June. Feldstein texted Jonathan Urich, a more senior spokesperson, that he was receiving “insane material” meant for the prime minister, the indictment says, citing the precise time of the WhatsApp message. Whether Urich or Feldstein actually passed the document on to Netanyahu is unstated in the indictment. But at the beginning of September, as streets in Israel filled with protesters, Feldstein allegedly sent a photograph of the material to an Israeli television journalist via Telegram. As required by law, the reporter checked with the military censor, who can block publication of information “nearly certain” to harm national security. The censor killed the item.

Undeterred by the censor’s ruling, Feldstein allegedly wrote to Urich to ask if he knew anyone outside Israel who could arrange publication of the classified material. Urich, the indictment says, connected him with Yisrael (Srulik) Einhorn, a campaign consultant who’d worked closely with Netanyahu and who was abroad. Via WhatsApp, Feldstein sent Einhorn the contents of the document and the censor’s message blocking publication. Einhorn contacted a Bild reporter, and the story of Hamas’s supposed strategy appeared. The legal documents don’t reveal how two key false details made it into the story: the supposed source of the document in Sinwar’s computer, and Hamas’s putative willingness to prolong the war.

In any case, Feldstein alerted the Israeli media, which could now report on what had appeared in a foreign outlet. The item got heavy play.

Urich, according to the indictment, texted Feldstein, surely referring to the prime minister: “The boss is pleased.”

The next day, Feldstein and Urich drafted Netanyahu’s statement quoting Bild. Everything had clicked—or so it seemed, until the arrests began.

This, at least, is the story the indictment tells. Its claims remain to be proved in court. And the indictment doesn’t say whether Netanyahu in fact knew in June that one of his aides had illegally received a document pilfered from military intelligence. It doesn’t say whether Netanyahu ordered the leak, or if he even knew in advance that the document would be leaked. Whether Netanyahu faces possible legal consequences, or only political fallout, remains to be seen.

Certainly, though, the case has rattled him. When it first broke, he denied that there had been any leaks from his office and that anyone from his bureau had been arrested or questioned. His tone has since changed. On Saturday night, via social media, Netanyahu released a nine-minute video clip in response to the indictment. The normally glib prime minister sounded angry and anxious. He claimed, falsely, that no other leaks have been investigated, and that the army was withholding crucial information from him. This investigation was a “witch hunt” aimed “not only at me, but at you, the huge public that voted for me,” he said. He said he knew Feldstein as a “patriot.”

Then he added, “But if they come … in the middle of the night and jail you, isolate you … threaten you with a life sentence … a person can break” and say anything. It was an apparent preemptive strike, should Feldstein testify against him.

[Read: Why Netanyahu fired his defense minister]

Meanwhile, the hostages remain in Gaza. Why Netanyahu has resisted reaching a hostage and cease-fire agreement is no more apparent now than it was in September. He has defined the goal of the war as “absolute victory” over Hamas militarily and ending its rule in Gaza. But he has evaded proposing an alternative for who would administer Gaza after the war. And his recently dismissed defense minister, Yoav Gallant, said earlier this month—in a meeting with families of hostages—that Israel has already “reached all [its] goals militarily.” So the mystery remains.

“The boss is satisfied, and my son is being abused in the tunnels” of Gaza, Einav Zangauker, whose son is a hostage, said in a video statement on social media after the Feldstein indictment was made public.

Maybe Netanyahu’s far-right coalition partners want the war to continue, allowing Israel to renew its occupation and settlement of Gaza. Or maybe an end to the fighting would simply redouble public pressure for new elections, which Netanyahu would likely lose.

Here is where the hostage issue meets the leak affair: The security that matters most to Israel’s supposed “Mr. Security,” it seems, is his own.

Let us extend our ethic of care to our celebrities, and in particular white celebrities, so many of whom contributed their time and talent to the Kamala Harris campaign. These people understand both justice and mercy, and their greatest concern is neither fame nor fortune, but the plight of America’s—and the world’s—most disadvantaged. Consider Mark Ruffalo.

The day before the election, he posted on Instagram a comedic short to “help Trump go bye-bye,” a compilation of clips of Donald Trump saying “Bye” or “Bye-bye.” The day before that, he’d posted a video of two young Native American people worried about the upcoming election: “We need a superhero,” one of them says and, just like that: Mark Ruffalo! “It’s scary,” he says. “Trump does not care about the Native people.”

He also posted a video he’d made with Rania Batrice, a Palestinian American who is a World Economic Forum “Exceptional Woman of Excellence.” Ruffalo, however, was the star. The video was intended for voters so angry about the war in Gaza, they were considering a protest vote for a third-party candidate over Harris: “If you’re thinking of voting for Jill Stein, please take a listen,” Ruffalo said, in his compelling, patronizing way. “I understand how devastated and angry you are,” he said. “For over a year now, many of us have been on the front lines of calling for the end of the genocide in Gaza and now the killing in Lebanon.” Who is “us”? And where was the “front line”? West L.A.? Studio City? (Ruffalo, needless to say, has not spent the past year sharing his outrage over the Hamas attacks of October 7 that took 1,200 lives and precipitated the conflict.)

“We’ve been outraged at the Biden administration’s complicity and inhumanity as the invasion has spread to Lebanon and marches closer and closer towards a forever war,” he said, and offered the weirdest political pitch in history: Show up for Harris because “we can and we will hold her accountable on her first day in office.” Even for those voters who might have shared his premises, it was a bizarre theory: Vote for a war criminal so we can frog-march her to American Nuremberg as soon as she climbs down from the podium.

[Read: America’s class politics have turned upside down]

This is one of the things that white celebrities do best: forge a bond with members of a marginalized community, and then tell them what to do. But this time, it didn’t work. What’s a superhero to do when he learns that at least half of Native Americans voted for Trump? (“Long time coming,” said a former vice president of the Navajo Nation, Myron Lizer.)

What about the gut punch of almost half of Latino voters choosing Trump? That’s something the white celebrities weren’t prepared for, and it hurt. But they had to put on a brave face. As Brad Pitt told Leonardo DiCaprio in Once Upon a Time in Hollywood, “Don’t cry in front of the Mexicans.” Let us respect the privacy of the white celebrities at this difficult time. Three-tenths of Black men under the age of 45 voted for Trump. There’s no one with whom white celebrities assume greater common cause than young Black men. The Black Lives Matter protests were their Tiananmen Square.

The minute it became clear that Harris had lost, reporters and panelists began offering explanations—explanations so obvious that you had to wonder why they hadn’t seen the loss coming. Of course they were correct: The results proved that millions of people don’t want to see an apparently endless flow of undocumented immigrants entering the country; they loathe the way DEI absolutism empowered an army of bureaucrats to mete out mysterious punishments for ridiculous offenses. They don’t want to hear anyone’s pronouns; they don’t want to be told that crime is down when they’re busy getting carjacked; and they never, ever want to watch The View again.

These various social causes helped win Trump the election. His narrative didn’t pass most tests of logic or economic theory and yet it was constructed on a foundation of grievances that rang true to millions of Americans, and Democrats met it with no narrative at all. It was as though the party had spent a quarter century running a very large tab, and on Election Day, the whole thing finally came due. I couldn’t really attach that vague sense of the problem to any of its component parts, so as I always do when I’m confused about the Democratic Party, I called Noah Redlich.

“How did this happen?” I asked him, and he said something that not a single aggrieved commentator or anyone on the Topanga front line had said.

“When I heard J. D. Vance say that he was in fourth grade when Joe Biden voted for NAFTA, I said, ‘We’re screwed!’”

Noah is a second-year law student at Fordham University. I’ve known him since he was 5. At 7 he could tell you the name of every U.S. senator. It wasn’t just a party trick—as he grew older, his interest in politics grew into a strong belief in the Democratic Party’s potential to improve the lives of the working and middle classes. I spend a huge amount of time talking to Democrats, some of them extremely well versed in the party’s positions on various topics. So why do I trust Noah more than these mandarins? Because more often than not, they’ll break into an argument that requires me to accept that various facts on the ground don’t exist. Noah has worked or volunteered on many campaigns, and when he would come back from a red state he would never say “Those Republican voters are scum.” He would come back saying “These voters are concerned about …”

“When Vance talked about NAFTA,” Noah said, “it had a visceral connection with a lot of people who continue to be deeply affected by it. Even the name of that agreement has deep resonance for a huge number of people from Appalachia and across the Midwest, because they saw their manufacturing jobs disappear.”

Industrial decline began long before NAFTA, of course, but it was an efficient engine for taking away jobs. Corporations did what they always do, if they’re allowed to do it, which is chase cheap labor. Their response to union efforts and worker resentment was to say, You better just keep working or we’ll send your jobs away.

“No one at the Democratic convention talked about NAFTA,” Noah said. “How could they? They’re too in love with Bill Clinton.”

Bill Clinton spent his first year in office aggressively lobbying for the passage of NAFTA. He curried favor with Wall Street, and in 1999 signed the repeal of the Glass-Steagall regulations enacted after the 1929 stock-market crash, which helped lead  to the 2007–08 financial crisis and the Great Recession. He ushered in the era of the billionaire-friendly Democratic Party, which was somehow going to coexist with—and benefit—the members of its traditional stronghold: the working class.

Clinton once held a lot of credibility with the working class, but that was a long time ago. And yet the party remains so convinced of his popularity that it sent him to Michigan to campaign.

And then there’s Hillary. “Noah, why in the world is Hillary Clinton still taken seriously by the Democratic Party?”

“I have no idea! She lost an election; her entire worldview has been rejected; people don’t like endless free trade that sends their jobs overseas; they don’t like the endless wars, like the Iraq War, which she voted for. People don’t want that anymore. She’s stuck in a previous era that people have moved away from.”

And yet she wields a particular power at the most elite levels of the party. In the rooms where the rounds of toast are always spread with roasted bone marrow and the “California varietals” are always Kistler and Stag’s Leap, and where the sons and daughters are always about to graduate from Princeton or rescue an African village or marry a hedge funder or become an analyst at McKinsey—in those lovely rooms, where the doors close with a muffled click of solidity, Hillary Clinton still wears the ring to be kissed.

She was perhaps the first person to launch a woke argument during a presidential campaign, ridiculing Bernie Sanders’s intention to break up big banks by asking: “Would that end racism? Would that end sexism? Would that end discrimination against the LGBT community? Would that make people feel more welcoming to immigrants overnight?” Seeing that argument in its infant form, made by a woman who several times collected $225,000 in speaking fees from Goldman Sachs, is a reminder of how stupid and morally bankrupt it is.

For that matter, why does the party keep dragging Liz Cheney everywhere like she’s Piltdown Man? Yes, there are Republicans who don’t like Trump, but they don’t hold much sway with Democratic voters. Nicolle Wallace and Bill Kristol do not a coalition make.

One thing the party needs to learn is that no one, anywhere, ever wants to be reminded of the Iraq War.

“It was disastrous to use her so heavily,” Noah told me. “She represents the establishment, the ruling class that people rejected during this populist moment. These people aren’t popular. That’s why Donald Trump runs the Republican Party, not the Cheneys or the Bushes.”

He’s a second-year law student! Why couldn’t the leaders of the Democratic Party see these obvious mistakes?

Harris’s campaigning with Liz Cheney allowed Trump to say, as he did many times, that the Democrats are tied to the Cheneys and their endless wars, and liable to send your kid off to die in a foreign conflict. Trump ran as an anti-war politician, but he certainly wasn’t one the last time he held office. He did most of the things Liz Cheney would have wanted him to do: He ripped up the Iran nuclear deal, and increased military spending numerous times. He was more hawkish on Russia than Barack Obama was, and increased sanctions against the country. I’m not saying any of these things were necessarily wrong, but it certainly wasn’t John and Yoko on a bed-in for peace.

But all of these are mere blunders when compared with the real problem. The sign that needs to be Scotch-taped to a window at the Democratic National Committee should say: It’s the billionaires, stupid. What ails us is that 60 percent of Americans live paycheck to paycheck, and 40 years of allowing private equity and an emergent billionaire class to have untrammeled power has created—in the country of opportunity—a level of income inequality that borders on the feudal. Changing that is supposed to be the work of the Democratic Party, but three decades ago, it crawled into bed with the billionaire class and never got out.

Billionaires are, of course, precious snowflakes, each one made by God and each one unique. But one thing unites almost all of them, be they Republican billionaires or Democratic billionaires: They want to protect a tax code that keeps their mountains of money in a climate-controlled, locked room.

Mark Cuban was a huge and very visible Harris supporter, but for a Democrat, he took some strange turns. He wanted Lina Khan, the head of the Federal Trade Commission, out of her post. Khan has taken on corporate monopolies that block competition and filed some of the most aggressive antitrust litigation in a generation, and has been especially critical of Big Tech. “By trying to break up the biggest tech companies, you risk our ability to be the best in artificial intelligence,” Cuban told a reporter. The response to that was so severe that he backpedaled by saying that he was “not trying to get involved in personnel.” Personnel? She’s the chair of the FTC, not a booker on Shark Tank. Breaking up the monopolies that rule Big Tech would be very bad for Cuban, but probably give the rest of us some breathing room. (On the other team, Vance said he agreed with some of Kahn’s positions.)

[Thomas Chatterton Williams: What the left keeps getting wrong]

In a populist moment, the Democratic Party had the extremely rich and the very famous, some great music, and Mark Ruffalo. And they got shellacked. Now a lot of people seemed stunned by what happened, sobered by it.

Cuban scrubbed his X account of all political posts, declared himself on “political vacation,” and joined Bluesky, where, if not absolution, then at least a less political position could be staked out. He made a bad bet (why does Bezos make all the right moves?) and now needs to retool the factory.

Ruffalo appeared at a long-scheduled awards dinner for the ACLU of Southern California five days after the election. He got a little choked up, asked everyone to stand up and hug it out, and admitted that it had been hard for him to come to the event at all—which was a relatable position, because everyone hates the Beverly Hilton, but surely it was an easier gig than the front line?

But it’s not the trans athletes or the immigrants or the wokeism that lost the Democrats this election. It’s the rigged economy that has had its boot on the throat of working people for decades. Billionaires, even our very special Democratic billionaires, care about all kinds of things—and many of them peel off a lot of dollars for worthy causes, no doubt—but their political involvement usually comes with a specific price: that the party leaves alone the tax code that safeguards their counting houses.

And, really, after all the billionaires have done for the Democrats, is that too much to ask?

The Israeli army did not confirm or deny the claim as it continues to hit Gaza, killing dozens since Saturday.

The woman's identity has not been revealed and it is unclear how or when she is said to have died.

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Among Donald Trump’s many campaign-trail promises was his threat to dismantle the Department of Education, which he has claimed without basis is filled with “radicals, zealots, and Marxists.” But the president-elect seems to want to have it both ways: In trying to hamstring the federal agency, Trump says he will give power back to the states. But he has also said he is prepared to use executive power to crack down on schools with policies that don’t align with his culture-war agenda.

Trump proposed dismantling or dramatically cutting the DOE during his 2016 run, but he didn’t follow through while in office. This time, even if he does stick with it, he’s not likely to succeed: Because the department was elevated to a Cabinet-level agency by an act of Congress under President Jimmy Carter, shutting it down would likewise require an act of Congress. Passing such a law is a probable nonstarter even though Republicans will soon control the House and Senate. It would require a 60 percent vote in the Senate (at least as long as the filibuster is in place), and some Republicans would likely not support cutting the DOE, because it could be unpopular with their constituents. Red, rural, low-income areas are among the parts of the country whose school districts receive the most Title I supplemental funding from the agency. Although the DOE has found its place in the crosshairs of the culture wars, its daily function largely involves distributing funds to K–12 schools and administering federal loan programs for college students—not getting involved in the curriculum issues that inflame the political right.

Whether he follows through on his DOE threat or not, Trump has other channels through which to alter America’s schools. Trump’s statements on the campaign trail suggest that he’s likely to use his executive power to roll back the changes President Joe Biden made to Title IX, which related in part to protections for LGBTQ students and rules for how colleges respond to allegations of sexual violence on campus (these changes are currently blocked in some states). Trump’s platform also states that he “will sign an executive order instructing every federal agency, including the Department of Education, to cease all programs that promote the concept of sex and gender transition, at any age,” and he has signaled that he may threaten to withhold federal funds from schools that don’t fall in line. Trump and his team may also push to direct public money to parents with students in private and religious K–12 schools through a system known as “school choice” vouchers, which has gained political momentum after sustained attacks on public schools from Republican politicians (vouchers were a priority of Trump’s last education secretary, Betsy DeVos, too).

Conservative politicians have long been outwardly skeptical of the federal government playing a major role in schools—yet many are also inclined to push through policy priorities on education when they are in positions of national power, Jon Valant, an education policy expert at the Brookings Institution, told me. The Department of Education, in particular, has been an on-and-off boogeyman of Republicans. President Ronald Reagan talked about closing the agency as part of his effort to shrink the federal government (obviously, he did not succeed). But for all the talk about reducing the federal government’s power, eliminating the DOE would likely just mean moving things around—the Justice Department might handle civil-rights programs currently managed by the DOE; the Treasury Department might take over student-loan administration. It’s not clear that these changes “would actually shrink the federal role in education or the cost of administering those programs,” Valant told me.

Even as he claims that he will axe the department, Trump is moving forward with staffing it. He has put forth Linda McMahon, a major campaign donor with roots in the professional wrestling world, as his secretary of education. McMahon fits the description of some of Trump’s other recent Cabinet picks: a friend or loyalist who is unqualified for the role at hand. She has scant experience working in or with schools—she once claimed to have a degree in education because she had spent a semester student-teaching, The Washington Post and the Hartford Courant reported. But the choice of McMahon does not send as strong a signal as selecting a louder culture-war voice, such as Moms for Liberty co-founder Tiffany Justice, Oklahoma State Superintendent of Public Instruction Ryan Walters, or the right-wing activist Christopher Rufo—all of whom policy experts speculated about as possible picks—might have.

In his first term as president, Trump spoke with bombast about his education plans but didn’t end up doing much. The national conversation on schools was in a different place then—before the culture wars further heated up and public trust in schools and other institutions declined. Trump and his allies have made schools a villain in many of the social issues he centered his campaign on. This time, he may have more incentive to take action, if he’s willing to do the work of transforming the system.

Related:

Donald Trump claims public schools offer sex-change surgeries. George Packer: When the culture war comes for the kids

Today’s News

Former Representative Matt Gaetz withdrew himself from consideration for the attorney-general role in Trump’s second administration. Trump announced that former Florida Attorney General Pam Bondi is his new pick for the position. The International Criminal Court issued arrest warrants for Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu, former Israeli Defense Minister Yoav Gallant, and Hamas military chief Mohammed Deif—whom Israel claims to have killed—over allegations of war crimes and crimes against humanity in Gaza. Brazil’s federal police announced that former President Jair Bolsonaro and 36 other people have been indicted for allegedly plotting a coup after he lost in the 2022 elections.

Dispatches

Time-Travel Thursdays: The bean—small, humble, protein-dense—has the potential to remake American diets, Lora Kelley writes. But it also has an image problem.

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Three Ways to Become a Deeper Thinker

By Arthur C. Brooks

You may have encountered this cryptic question at some point. It is a koan, or riddle, devised by the 18th-century Zen Buddhist master Hakuin Ekaku. Such paradoxical questions have been used for centuries to train young monks, who were instructed to meditate on and debate them. This was intended to be taxing work that could induce maddening frustration—but there was a method to it too. The novitiates were not meant to articulate tidy answers; they were supposed to acquire, through mental struggle, a deeper understanding of the question itself—for this was the path to enlightenment.

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Snap a picture. The Publishers Marketplace book-deal social-media post is the most coveted screenshot in the literary world, Jordan Michelman writes.

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International Criminal Court judges say there are “reasonable grounds” they bore "criminal responsibility" for alleged war crimes and crimes against humanity.