On the way to Damascus, Saul became Paul. An orthodox Jewish rabbi became the foremost apostle of Jesus Christ. Saul was blinded by a sudden light from heaven and struck to the ground. Jesus appeared to him in person and talked to him. Something like this happened to Ezer Weizman on the way to Cairo. No sudden light came down from heaven, and the person who appeared to him was no apparition from another world. He was a human being—Anwar el-Sadat.

Actually, it happened in Jerusalem, when the Egyptian president was on his fateful visit to the Holy City. Having met all the important leaders of Israel, he asked to see Ezer Weizman. When Sadat was on his way to Israel, Weizman was in the hospital. Two days earlier he had had a road accident.

New York Times, December 31, 1978: Craig Claiborne, marveling over his recent gourmet experiences in the People's Republic of China, writes that he asked "an acquaintance long associated with so-called left-wing causes" "how to account for the excellence of Chinese cuisine in the present socialist atmosphere?" She replied: "In a proud socialist country such as China and Vietnam, food is as crucial and emotional a part of the culture as is their ancient art or their imperial palaces. To invite people to share their cuisine...and to serve it to them correctly, is to teach foreigners much about the Chinese soul."

Chief Gatsha Buthelezi is a dazzling, and controversial, figure on the South African scene. Of royal blood—a direct descendant of the great Zulu warrior kings of the last century—he draws the natural respect of many of the country's nearly five million Zulus. They form the biggest single population group, outstripping the ruling whites in number. Buthelezi is as conscious of his hereditary role as are his followers

Through his political actions of unceasing attack against racial apartheid, Buthelezi, aged fifty, also earns the support of many other blacks. He is a vocal and articulate proponent of a united and nonracial South Africa, which brings him white liberal support.

The Faith and Order Commission of the World Council of Churches met for two weeks last August in Bangalore, India. Future historians may conclude that Bangalore marked the end of what is called secular ecumenism. But first, a little of what led up to these developments.

After the Commission's meeting in Montreal (1963) it seemed to many that the direct path to ecclesial unity had been blocked. The goal of the World Council of Churches (WCC), to bring about a greater unity among the churches, seemed to some no longer possible and to others no longer desirable. But the majority hoped that both unity and effective witness could be better advanced if the WCC took a detour, focusing on the urgent political and social problems facing all the churches.

Ali Mohammed Jaidah, the former secretary general of the Organization of Petroleum Exporting Countries, is a soft-spoken man of thirty-seven. He speaks as one comfortable with authority. His B.S. in economics and his M.S. in petroleum economics are from London University. His birthplace and home are in the capital, Doha, of Qatar, a tiny oil-rich peninsular country jutting into the Persian Gulf. He has served his country in many positions of responsibility in the Ministry of Finance and Petroleum and the Qatar General Petroleum Corporation. In January, 1977, he became OPEC secretary general. My meeting with Ali Jaidah took place at the OPEC secretariat in Vienna, Austria, in the summer of 1978.

The secretary general and I chatted about Vienna, music, and the Spanish Riding School. He took a call from London—he would be heading there in a few hours—and referred the caller to a colleague in Kuwait. He told me I was sitting where President Carlos Andrés Pérez of Venezuela had sat recently on his first visit to OPEC headquarters. We spoke of Venezuela's leading role in the founding of OPEC. He inquired about my university, the course in energy economics I teach, and my interest in OPEC. Coffee served and the amenities observed, we got down to business.

Shortly after Camp David, The New York Review of Books blessed the Egyptian- Israeli deal Jimmy Carter had stumbled on. I.F. (Izzy) Stone's by-line heralding Camp David as "The Hope" neutralized legions of skeptics. "This is the beginning of peace between Israel and the Arabs and that is a prime event of history," Izzy proclaimed.

That issue of NYRB arrived just as I was leaving for London, and I took it along on the flight. I was impressed, though not fully convinced, by Izzy's enlightened prophecy. I had just written for Worldview my own rather restrained judgment that "At best the Carter-inspired formula is an uneasy, unstable beginning to what might eventually become a firmer Middle East accommodation.