People walk near a mural of Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, amid the Iran-Israel conflict, in Tehran, Iran, June 23, 2025. Photo: Majid Asgaripour/WANA (West Asia News Agency) via REUTERS

The European Union confirmed on Monday that it had reinstated sanctions against Iran, following a similar move against Iran by the United Nations.

“Today, the EU reinstated sanctions against Iran in response to its continued non-compliance with the nuclear agreement. The door for diplomatic negotiations remains open,” said the EU presidency in a statement.

The EU said the sanctions included freezing the assets of the Iranian Central Bank and other Iranian banks, as well as travel bans on certain Iranian officials.

The EU was also banning Iran‘s purchase and transportation of crude oil and the sale or supply of gold and certain naval equipment.

On Sunday, the United Nations reinstated an arms embargo and other sanctions on Iran over its nuclear program following a process triggered by European powers that Tehran has warned will be met with a harsh response.

Britain, France, and Germany, known collectively as the E3, initiated the return of sanctions on Iran at the UN Security Council over accusations it had violated a 2015 deal that aimed to stop it developing a nuclear bomb. Iran denies seeking nuclear weapons.

The E3 will “continue to pursue diplomatic channels and negotiations” despite the reimposition of UN sanctions on Iran, the countries said in a joint statement circulated by the German Foreign Ministry on Monday.

“The reinstatement of UN sanctions does not mean the end of diplomacy,” the statement said. “We urge Iran to refrain from any escalatory actions and to resume compliance with its legally binding obligations regarding safeguards.”

Meanwhile, the British government sanctioned dozens of Iranian-linked individuals and entities on Monday in moves aimed at curbing what Britain described as Iran‘s nuclear proliferation efforts.

Specifically, Britain added 71 new designations to its sanctions list including senior officials in Iran’s nuclear program and major financial and energy institutions. Those facing British sanctions will now be subject to asset freezes, financial restrictions, and travel bans.

US President Donald Trump greets Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu at the White House in Washington, DC, US, Sept. 29, 2025. Photo: REUTERS/Kevin Lamarque

US President Donald Trump hosted Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu for pivotal talks on Monday to press him to back a Gaza peace proposal aimed at ending a nearly two-year-old war that has seen Israel face growing international isolation.

In Netanyahu’s fourth visit since Trump returned to office in January, the right-wing Israeli leader was looking to shore up his country’s most important relationship after a slew of Western leaders formally embraced Palestinian statehood last week in defiance of the US and Israel.

Trump, who had sharply criticized the recognition moves as a prize to Hamas, was seeking Netanyahu’s agreement on a framework to end the war in the Palestinian territory and free the remaining hostages held by the terrorists.

It marked a stepped-up diplomatic effort by a president who vowed during the 2024 presidential campaign to quickly bring the conflict to a close and has since repeatedly claimed that a deal was near, only for it to fail to materialize.

TANKS HEAD DEEPER INTO GAZA CITY

Washington presented a 21-point peace plan to Arab and Muslim states on the sidelines of the UN General Assembly last week, and Trump’s main objective on Monday was to try to close the remaining gaps with Netanyahu.

The White House talks came as Israeli tanks on Monday thrust deeper into the heart of Gaza City, where Israel has launched one of its biggest offensives of the war this month with Netanyahu saying he aims to wipe out Hamas in its final redoubts.

Arriving by limousine, Netanyahu was greeted by Trump outside the White House doors with a handshake, a stark contrast to the chilly reception when he spoke on Friday before the UN General Assembly, where scores of delegates walked out in protest.

Asked about the prospects for a peace deal, Trump told reporters: “I’m very confident.”

Though Netanyahu praises Trump as Israel’s closest ally, there are signs of Israeli skepticism over the proposal, as well as some reservations among Arab states. Hamas’s apparent absence from the negotiations has also raised questions.

The plan, crafted by US special envoy Steve Witkoff and Trump first-term Middle East adviser Jared Kushner, envisions a ceasefire agreement followed by the release within 48 hours of all remaining hostages held by Hamas and the gradual withdrawal of Israeli forces from Gaza.

It also calls for a new dialogue between Israel and Palestinians for “peaceful coexistence” and no further Israeli attacks on Qatar, a White House official said on condition of anonymity. Israel angered Qatar, a US ally, and drew criticism from Trump for an airstrike against Hamas leaders in Doha on Sept. 9.

Previous US-backed ceasefire efforts have fallen apart due to a failure to bridge the gap between Israel and Hamas, and Netanyahu has vowed to continue fighting until Hamas is completely dismantled.

ISRAELI, ARAB CONCERNS

Netanyahu is under mounting pressure from the hostages’ families and, according to public opinion polls, a war-weary Israeli public. But he also risks the collapse of his governing coalition if far-right ministers believe he has made too many concessions for a peace deal.

Two foreign diplomats in the Middle East said Trump‘s 21-point plan was less a detailed blueprint and more a set of broad objectives. Israel had objected to several elements and was seeking revisions in its discussions with the White House, they said, adding that Arab states were also seeking some amendments.

However, the diplomats said Arab states had largely backed the plan and were now waiting to see whether there would be significant changes following Trump’s meeting with Netanyahu.

Another source, familiar with the discussions, said Israeli officials had raised concerns with Washington over issues including the proposed involvement of Palestinian security forces in Gaza after the war, expelling Hamas officials from the territory, and assigning overall security responsibility.

Sources in Egypt, which has acted as a mediator in ceasefire talks, said Cairo was concerned that the internationally recognized Palestinian Authority should not be sidelined from administering Gaza, and about guarantees that Israel would abide by any agreement’s terms once hostages were freed.

A delegation from Qatar, which has played a key role in previous indirect negotiations between Israel and Hamas, was expected at the White House on Monday for discussions about Gaza, a US official said on condition of anonymity.

Rabbi Eli C. Freedman, Senior Rabbi Jill L. Maderer, and Cantor Bradley Hyman lead a service marking Erev Rosh Hashanah at Rodeph Shalom in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, US, Sept. 6, 2021. REUTERS/Rachel Wisniewski

As the Jewish High Holidays approached, my son surprised me with a simple request: “Dad, will you do the Birkat Kohanim — the Priestly Blessing — at Rosh Hashanah services?”

It had been more than 20 years since I last stood before a congregation as a Kohen. In my youth, back in Philadelphia, it was a defining part of my religious life. I can still recall the stained-glass light filtering into the sanctuary’s brown floors, the soft murmur of voices, and the weight of ancient words connecting me to generations who had come before. Back then, the experience filled me with awe and purpose.

But life moved on. The routines of adulthood — career, family, and the slow drift of questions about faith and ritual — pulled me away. The blessing became a memory rather than a practice — a thread of connection I had set aside without fully realizing what was lost.

I was truly shocked that my son knew about any of this, as I only mentioned the tradition in passing a few weeks earlier. However, when he asked if I would perform the ritual, I didn’t hesitate. I said yes. Then, on impulse, I asked him if he wanted to join me. He smiled.

Days later, we ascended the bimah — together — during the High Holy Days. As we stood beneath my tallit, with the holy ark filled with Torahs, his small hands stretched forward beside mine I felt the world sharpen into perfect clarity.

The congregation grew quiet, then their voices rose in song, carrying centuries of prayer and longing.

My son’s face glowed with pride and joy as we offered the blessing. In that moment, I understood that what I was giving was only part of the story. His request was a gift to me — a call to return, to remember that faith is not just a set of beliefs, but a series of choices and actions we must renew again and again.

Since October 7, 2023, my son has been different. The horrors of that day — the terror attacks in Israel and the surge of antisemitism that followed — reached even into his elementary school world here in New York. He has seen more than any child should: protests that turned ugly, hateful graffiti scrawled on subway walls, tense moments on street corners and train platforms. Though he couldn’t fully explain it, he sensed that something fundamental had shifted.

Rabbi Jonathan Sacks once wrote, “To be a Jew is to be an agent of hope.” My son seemed to grasp this instinctively. Hope, he realized, is not passive. It is something we must build, defend, and embody.

While other children focused on sports or video games, my son leaned into Jewish life. He blew the shofar with pride, waved the Israeli flag at the Israel Day Parade, helped prepare holiday meals, packed kosher food for those in need, and celebrated festivals with a reverence that was both youthful and deeply serious. Watching him, I marveled at how children seem to sense when they are part of a larger story. Even at his age, he understood that these rituals were more than symbolic. They were acts of defiance against those who would erase his identity and, concurrently, declarations of belonging.

And in living his Judaism so fully, he drew me in. When he asked me to join him on the bimah, I knew this moment was about more than a single blessing. It was about continuity: a young Jew calling his father to lead beside him.

The Birkat Kohanim comes from Numbers 6:24–26:

The LORD bless you and keep you;
The LORD make His face shine upon you and be gracious to you;
The LORD lift up His countenance upon you and give you peace.

These words are radical in their simplicity. In a world consumed by anger and division, they proclaim blessing, mercy, and peace. To “lift up His countenance” — to imagine God turning His face toward us with love — feels especially powerful today, when so many human faces seem turned away in hatred or indifference.

For thousands of years, these words have been spoken by kohanim: in the ancient Temple in Jerusalem, in shtetls across Europe, and in synagogues around the globe. They have carried Jews through exile and return, persecution, and renewal. Speaking them now links us to that unbroken chain of hope and endurance.

The sages teach, “In a place where there are no men, strive to be a man.” When a Kohen blesses the community, he is not merely reciting words. He is stepping forward to lead, creating a sacred moment for others to reconnect — to generosity, to faith, to one another. As I raised my hands this year, I felt their weight as never before. I wasn’t just fulfilling an obligation. I was a father embodying the faith my son had so passionately embraced. His shining face steadied me, reminding me that sometimes the blessing flows from the child to the parent.

We often speak of how parents shape their children, and of course that is true. But this past year has shown me the reverse can also be true: children can call parents back to what matters. My son’s devotion has deepened my own. His belief has challenged me not to speak of Judaism only in words, but to live it through action. In a world that feels chaotic and hostile, his enthusiasm has been my anchor.

Rabbi Hillel taught in Pirkei Avot: “The world stands on three things: Torah, worship, and acts of lovingkindness.” These are not abstract ideals. They endure only when lived out, often by the youngest among us, who still believe wholeheartedly.

Since October 7th, “faith” and “family” have become rallying cries. Too often, though, they are reduced to empty slogans. When lived fully, they are more than private virtues; they are the foundations of public life. Faith offers a moral vocabulary, a way to face darkness without succumbing to despair. Family binds us to one another, giving us strength to endure. Together, they create the trust and responsibility on which communities, and democracies, rest.

As Edmund Burke observed, the “little platoons” of family and faith are where citizens first learn to care for others. Without them, public life collapses into division and rage. A blessing, then, is not just a private ritual. It is a civic act, a declaration that we are bound together and that society is more than a marketplace of competing interests. In a cynical age, performing this ancient blessing is a quiet form of resistance. It proclaims that there is still something worth preserving, and still a future worth building together.

When my son asked me to bless the community, I said yes — to him, to my congregation, and to my own better self. As we descended the bimah, his eyes were still wide and shining. In that moment, I understood that the blessing had flowed both ways: from me to the congregation, and from him to me. The boy whose presence once sparked my Jewish devotion was now the one calling me to live it fully.

As this new year begins, I carry that image with me. The world is often dark, but when our children call us to stand tall, to speak words of peace, to perform rituals of hope; we must answer. May this year bring renewal. May we bless and be blessed. And may we never forget that sometimes it is our children who lead us home.

Samuel J. Abrams is a professor of politics at Sarah Lawrence College and a senior fellow at the American Enterprise Institute.