We Came Here to Escape This S***

Regina Spektor and I emigrated from different countries yet, as a Jewish refugee, I resonated with her impromptu speech. On Saturday, July 26, during one of her concerts, a protestor interrupted the performance, shouting “free f****** Palestine,” soon joined by others in the audience. After a back-and-forth and after the protestors were removed, Spektor, visibly frustrated, turned to the audience and remarked, “the only reason I even speak English is because I came here to escape this s***.” I couldn’t have phrased it better myself.

Spektor escaped the former Soviet Union with her family. I fled the Islamic Republic of Iran alone. She grew up speaking Russian and I Farsi. On surface level, our stories appear worlds apart. One country was a secular communist state, the other, a totalitarian Islamic theocracy. The former Soviet Union outlawed religion. And the Islamic regime executes communists. They seem diametrically opposed.

And yet, despite these differences, I share a deeply existential experience with Regina Spektor. How? Because both countries denied religious freedom, and both fostered intense antisemitism.

After the 12-Day Israel-Iran war, I began thinking deeply about what a free Iran would look like. I joined many spaces on X and followed different activists who push for regime change. All of this online activity promotes overthrowing the ayatollahs and instating either a monarchy or democratic republic. They all laud the values of a secular state. And while I don’t disagree (in fact, I’m a strong advocate for the separation of church—or in this case, mosque—and state), whenever I mention religious freedom being integral to a free Iran, I’m met with hostility. I’m labeled an Islamist and shut down.

I am clearly not an Islamist. The Islamic regime wants me dead for my crime of apostasy. As a refugee who came to America seeking asylum, I view religious freedom as fundamental to any free society. The Founding Fathers of this country understood that, which is why they enshrined that very right in the Constitution and practically invented the separation of church and state. This was no coincidence; the two are inseparable.

Religious identity is personal. It is a force that shapes a person’s worldview, guiding their values and actions. To have agency over your own life—that is, to be truly free—one must be able to practice their own religion (or lack thereof) without fear or obstruction. However, like all freedoms, religious freedom must have limits. Just as we have laws that limit speech,  libel and defamation laws, for example, so too must there be red lines when it comes to religion. This is why a secular government is essential. A secular state, free from any religious affiliation, is best positioned to uphold the rights of all its citizens, ensuring that no one religion infringes upon the rights of another. This is what a free Iran needs. On a deeply personal level, I need to know that I, and other apostates like me, will be protected in a free Iran.

I left my home country at the age of 24, forfeiting my education and father’s money. When I arrived in America, I struggled—financially and emotionally—for many years. I still have a long way to go to achieve my goals. But at least here in America I am free to think for myself. Here,  I can embrace my Jewish identity, live my Jewish life, raise my Jewish children. I didn’t flee to America to experience more hatred against Judaism. And it doesn’t matter whether the rhetoric stems from the left or the right. Antisemitism is antisemitism. It negates religious freedom, plain and simple.

As Regina Spektor eloquently put it, “[we] came here to escape [that] s***.” She, like many others, sought refuge from a world that denies religious liberty. And I will never forget that.