Iranians, I’m Sorry We Didn’t Do More
Bibi raised expectations. He had a chance for a watershed moment with the targets on Day 11 of the war. Whether it was Netanyahu or Trump who forced an end to it, the result was the same: Israel let you down. And I can’t stand it.
We Israelis — and I reckon Jews the world over — don’t want to be fair-weather friends. This part of Israel’s operation, our operation, was a failure: failing to follow up on Evin Prison, failing to strike the Basij again, failing to break Khamenei’s ability to black out the web.
I have heard what Iranians are saying about what happened. I have heard the disappointment, the frustration being expressed. I cannot summarize it better than DC-based Navid Mohebbi did on X yesterday: “Israel has lost significant trust among Iranians…rebuilding that trust will be an uphill battle…”
????My honest observation of the mood among Iranians regarding Israel’s acceptance of the ceasefire:
★ Israel has lost significant trust among Iranians—after years of raising expectations, promising support, and delivering strong public messaging, its actual performance has… pic.twitter.com/H7ZoYVdjdf
— Navid Mohebbi نوید محبی (@navidmohebbi) June 24, 2025
You were asked to risk everything — and find yourselves facing the regime alone, again. We know that feeling too well. For that, we owe you more than silence. We owe you more, the least being honesty.
I can’t speak for everyone, but I can tell you this: I’ve followed your struggle since I was a teenager in the suburbs of New Jersey. I bought books about Iran when no one else around me could point to it on a map. I tried to understand your history, your politics, your culture, your pain.
I wanted to understand Islam. I studied Shiite Islam. I wrote papers on Valiyat-e Faqih. The one thing I didn’t do then was learn speak your language — that’s on me. But that can change.
So I regret writing this in English, even if it’s possibly for the best. I can be precise. I can word this right. I can say this without hesitation: you were right to be angry when the fighting stopped after being asked to sacrifice so much. You had every reason to expect more from us, yet our leaders risked leaving you hanging out to dry.
Your cause is not just about geopolitics to us, or threats against us. It’s about dignity. It’s about life. It’s about the pain you’ve lived through: the beatings, the censorship, the arrests, the rapes, the hangings, the disappearances — it’s about your broken lives. That’s not something any honest person can ignore.
We’ve seen how your government abuses you. And we’ve seen your courage in return.
We don’t want to be fair-weather friends. We don’t want to be friends of convenience just because “the enemy of my enemy is my friend.” No. What we hope for is something human and direct.
This is all about you, and I know your emotions are raw, but I implore you to trust Israelis based on a very recent moment in history:
Last year, Hezbollah had been hitting us repeatedly and murdered dozens since October 7, 2023. Last July, Hezbollah killed 12 Druze kids in the Golan. Our response wasn’t just strategic — it was instinct. Israeli Jews didn’t care that they weren’t Jewish themselves — in fact, we cared more. Because their dignity is our dignity. Their security is ours. The assault on Druze, who Jews here see as blood brothers, ignited a different kind of rage deep within us. That was the final straw, and we obliterated Hezbollah for it.
And many Israelis see your struggle the same way. We are seething over you being left alone. We are seething at the Basij for arresting 700 of you within hours of the ceasefire. We are frightened for you, angry for you, and want to keep up the fight.
That’s the Israel that wants your freedom. The Israel that doesn’t forget. That still believes in a future alliance between our peoples — not in theory, but in reality.
There’s a deep history between Jews and Persians. Not as propaganda — but as memory. Our people remember Kurosh. Cyrus the Great’s name lives in Jewish scriptures and Israeli classrooms. When we speak about him, it’s not out of convenience. It’s because we see your greatness reflected in your past — and your potential future.
This fight isn’t just about missiles or enrichment. It’s about you. About a regime that rules through fear and shame. About a nation waiting for breath. And I promise you this: One day, this night will end.
Our leaders got ahead of themselves. You were asked to rise. You stood up. And we didn’t stay long enough. That’s not something we forget lightly. For all this, I’m sorry. We are sorry. It is a job half-done.
But we still carry the flame. Trust yourselves, because you can overwhelm your oppressors and jailers and rapists and pursuers. Trust us, please, because we are not done.
Like the head of the Mossad just said, “Just like we were there before, we will continue to be there.”
Az to be khodet etemad kon — از تو به خودت اعتماد کن — trust yourselves. Let’s trust each other.
It’s not over yet.
