As an Iranian Jewish Zionist, I do not Want to See a Second Nakba

Ever since Hamas’s brutal onslaught on October 7, 2023, I – and many people in my community – have been experiencing the strongest sense of pain and grief in generations. For me, the pain not only came from seeing people within my community brutally slaughtered and kidnapped. It came from the fear it triggered: losing the one place I can call home as a Jew.  

I became a Zionist because the State of Israel rescued my family many years ago. It showed me that Israel was their safe haven in the event of an emergency and that is why I was devastated by the events on October 7. However, it is also precisely because I am a Zionist and appreciate having a Jewish homeland that I am strongly opposed to the recent calls to forcibly transfer the Palestinians out of the Gaza Strip.

I became a Zionist through my family’s story of when they were in Iran and had to flee to Israel. Despite still being proud of their Iranian heritage and having many Muslim friends, my family had their share of antisemitic experiences in Iran, and it culminated after the Islamic Revolution in 1979. My grandparents on both my mother’s and father’s side had their property confiscated from them and my paternal grandfather had to flee across the Iranian-Turkish border with little more than the clothes on his back where he ran to Israel next to be reunited with my grandmother.

Zionism and the State of Israel provided my grandparents – and many of my other friends and family – another home to run to after they had to flee from their homes in Iran. Learning about my families’ experiences helped me appreciate the Zionist vision of a Jewish homeland and how it provides my family – and many other Jewish families throughout the world – a safe haven to flee to.

Nevertheless, although my family has been able to build a good life after they ran to Israel, the scars of having to flee from their homes and seeing their culture and heritage in Iran diminished, still hurt.

It is due to these reasons that I do not want to see any other group of people forced out of their homes, including the Palestinians.

Over the years, I have read more testimonies from Palestinians who had to flee from their homes during the 1948 War in what they refer to as the Nakba (the Catastrophe). I have also visited a couple of refugee camps in the West Bank (Judea & Samaria) where I heard many Palestinian youth talk about how their grandparents fled from their homes in 1948. And after October 7, I spoke with a Palestinian-American who grew up in the Gaza Strip and told me about how his family fled from cities and villages in what is today Israel proper to Gaza during the War of 1948.

It was through my interactions and dialogue with Palestinians that I came to realize that there are in fact two peoples who live in the land between Jordan River and Mediterranean Sea with a legitimate claim to it. However, it was also through my interactions and dialogue with Palestinians that I realized that we have contradicting narratives over our conflict over the same piece of land – and this often brings up mixed feelings for me.

On the one hand, Zionism and Israel provided my grandparents a safe haven after they had to run from their homes in Iran. On the other hand, there has been a conflict over the land where the violence between two communities has led to the displacement of many innocent people and each community has its side of the story over whose fault it was for the violence and displacement. 

To this day, I am still struggling to reconcile our conflicting stories. What helps, though, is understanding how our stories are not that different. Indeed, despite our conflicting narratives of our conflict over the same piece of land, both our stories are about experiences as refugees and longing for a home. Recognizing the parallels between our stories is what allows me to further empathize with the Palestinians and motivates me to fight for a solution to the conflict where both our peoples can each have a home within the land to practice our right to self-determination – and that means there cannot be a second Nakba.

Of course, Palestinians who wish to leave the Gaza Strip should be allowed to do so. After over a year of intense fighting and years of living under a brutal Islamist government, many Palestinians would likely leave out of their own accord. It is also true that the Palestinians will need to see a genuine change in their leadership and have their broader society go through a legitimate process of de-radicalization before there can be such a solution between our peoples.

But the point is that they should not be forced out. We should still preserve a long-term vision where both we, the Jewish people, and the Palestinians will have a home within the land between the Jordan River and the Mediterranean Sea where we can practice our right to self-determination in some shape or form.

For the past 17 months, we have been hurting and are rightfully angry, but we cannot let our grief turn us into something we are not. For over a year now, the Jewish state has been fighting for its survival – and will likely need to continue to do so – but we will also need to dig deep and win another crucial battle from within: a battle to save the soul of the Jewish state. Our community must salvage a narrative where we stay true to our Zionist principles and seek peace with the other side, not only for their sake, but for our sake as well.