“We constantly see this image of the Iranian-American waving an Israeli flag, like in Beverly Hills. That's becoming our image, and I don't think it's a coincidence—I think it's by design. A lot of Iranians feel very isolated from the Iranian community because they [the pro-Israel Iranians] are louder and speak Farsi while attacking UCLA students. I think a lot of people feel that the pro-Israel or Iranian Zionist/monarchist crowd is just so loud, it feels like they're the mainstream Iranian perspective.” –Arman (born and raised in the U.S., 26)
The Iranian diaspora in the United States has a history of fragmentation. However, this fracturing has become more significant over the past year, specifically around Israel’s genocide in Gaza and assaults on Lebanon, Syria, and Yemen, which have drawn Israel and Iran into direct military confrontation for the first time in history. However, looking at social media, this division in the diaspora is not immediately apparent because the most dominant narrative and image of Iranian-Americans online is a pro-Zionist one. We have seen numerous examples, from Reza Pahlavi, the former Shah’s son, serving as the keynote at a pro-Israel conference to a popular “Iran International” television correspondent painting “Woman, Life, Freedom” (the slogan of the 2022 Iranian women-led movement against their government) on rubble in Gaza, as well as numerous articles and videos showcasing the outspoken pro-Israel Iranian community. This dominant Zionist narrative asserts that because of the Iranian government’s longstanding and strong pro-Palestine position—manifested through both rhetoric and reported decades of financial support for Hamas and other armed resistance groups opposing Israel—taking a Zionist position is necessary to demonstrate opposition to the Iranian government. By this same problematic logic, if an Iranian is anti-Zionist or pro-Palestine, they must be a supporter of the Iranian government and its human rights violations against its own people.
While these pro-Zionist narratives have been developing for many years in the Iranian diaspora, most notably among monarchists, their impact has become even more problematic since October 7, 2023. Despite the dominance of this narrative, there are many Iranian-Americans who do maintain a pro-Palestine view while also remaining critical of the Islamic Republic. However, their voices are largely missing from analyses of the Iranian diaspora following October 7. Through this article, I seek to address this gap in analysis of the Iranian diaspora in the U.S. and their views on Palestine/Israel.
Between May and July 2024, I conducted one-on-one interviews with 25 Iranians across the U.S. between the ages of 21 and 53, representing a variety of genders, sexualities, ethnicities, religious backgrounds, and educational levels. I wanted to explore their perceptions of the Iranian government and the Palestine/Israel context—both as standalone topics and at their points of intersection. My interest in this subject predates October 7. Growing up in the U.S., I was completely unaware of the history of Palestine/Israel until college. During my graduate studies, I spent a summer in the occupied West Bank and returned to the U.S. eager to share my experiences with Iranian-American family and friends. To my confusion, many were quick to question what I had witnessed and expressed greater sympathies for Israel despite never having visited. This revelation, combined with the emergence of the “Woman, Life, Freedom” (WLF) movement just one month after my return to the U.S.—amplified by Israel presenting itself as one of the movement’s most vocal governmental supporters—highlighted the need for deeper exploration of how the Iranian diaspora perceive and understand Palestine/Israel.
Of the Iranians interviewed, six spent their formative childhood years and young adulthood in Iran. I interviewed Iranians who identified as being raised in Muslim, Sufi, Christian, Jewish, and Baha’i faith traditions—some practicing and others leaning more agnostic or atheist. The participants also represented some of Iran’s ethnic diversity beyond Persian, including Gilaki, Azeri, and Arab Iranians. Originally, this study aimed to gather perspectives from Iranians in the U.S. across the ideological spectrum regarding Palestine/Israel. However, it evolved into a documentation of the diverse pro-Palestinian views within the Iranian diaspora, with most participants identifying as pro-Palestine, though holding varying perspectives on armed resistance groups. Ultimately, by presenting their views, I set out to challenge the problematic Zionist talking point that if Iranians in the diaspora support Palestine, they must also be Iranian regime apologists.
There are limitations to this non-generalizable study, including sample bias and the time period the interviews took place. Since conducting these interviews, the region has continued to evolve, and the confrontation between Israel and Iran has reached an unprecedented level. For example, all of the events following Hamas political bureau chief Ismail Haniyeh’s assassination in Tehran were not captured in these conversations. Notwithstanding these limitations, my findings remain relevant in terms of the broader insights they provide into Iranian diasporic support for Palestinian liberation.
Impact of Iranian Government on Palestine/Israel Perceptions
For most of the participants I interviewed, their awareness of Palestine/Israel predated October 7. They viewed the Palestinian liberation struggle as interconnected with other global struggles, recognizing substantial power imbalances between Israel and Palestine. None saw it as an inherently “religious” conflict; instead, they understood it as a matter of land, domination, and subjugation. They often used terms such as “genocide,” “occupation,” “settler-colonialism,” “apartheid,” and “ethnic cleansing”. For many, “anti-Zionist” and “pro-Palestine” were nearly interchangeable, concisely capturing their perspectives on Palestine/Israel, while others supplemented their interpretation with movements focused on “anti-racism” and “collective liberation.”
None of the individuals interviewed expressed full support for the Iranian government, and all shared a collective hope for freedom and self-determination for the Iranian people. However, while some advocated for a popular grassroots alternative to the Islamic Republic, others favored different modes of internal reform, citing fears of instability and external interference rooted in the region's fraught history with imperialism.
Iranians come from diverse religious and ethnic backgrounds. For some in Iran and many in the U.S., particularly in urban areas, religiosity tied to Islam is relatively weak compared to neighboring Arab countries. Many attribute this reaction against religiosity to the Islamic Republic’s weaponization of Islam and symbols popularly associated with Islam as a tool of oppression. Consequently, support for Palestine among Iranians is generally less influenced by religious associations than it might be for Arab or other Muslim-majority groups. In fact, it can be safely assumed that the Islamic Republic’s framing of Palestine as a “Muslim cause” may have helped further undermine support among Iranian-Americans. Other participants felt that Iran’s government had little impact on the occupation of Palestine and viewed the two issues as inappropriately conflated–intentionally done to obscure the reality of an occupation dating back to before the creation of the current Iranian government.
Although communities are not monolithic, those who identify as “leftists” within the Iranian-American context often espouse anti-imperialist views, while simultaneously maintaining a criticism of the Iranian government with caveats. Some leftist respondents who supported the WLF movement expressed ambivalence. While they opposed Iran’s domestic policies, they appreciated that Iran “at least serves as a check against Western colonial apartheid” (Ali, born in Iran and raised in the U.S., 44) and that “this is probably the government’s most redeemable quality” (Alex, born and raised in the U.S., 26). At the same time, some expressed a desire for a distancing of their political advocacy from the Iranian government, recognizing a level of hypocrisy by what they refer to as a “reactionary regime.” In May, Iran’s Supreme Leader, Ayatollah Ali Khamenei, published a letter in support of the university encampment movement in the U.S. For some, this endorsement seemed to link the pro-Palestine movement with the Iranian government. Reza (born and raised in the U.S., 25), a university organizer, shared:
“I immediately rolled my eyes, thinking, ‘How dare these political actors try to usurp or co-opt our movement?’ I’m certain Iran does not care about Palestinian liberation, and I don’t let their lofty tweets get in the way of my struggle. I think the Palestinian liberation movement holds an autonomy that’s completely independent of state actors.”
Some participants who grew up in Iran observed that pro-Israel sentiments there often stem from frustration with the government’s resource allocation rather than from animosity toward Palestinians:
“Some in my family morally object to the occupation and are anti-Zionist, yet their priority is voicing frustration with the Iranian government. They see the funding for Hezbollah and Palestine as a misallocation, asking, 'Why isn’t that money spent on us? We have economic issues here. '” (Ali, 44)
This sentiment—that Iran should be focused on its own people’s struggles—can be captured through the slogan that Iranian protesters first used on Al-Quds Day during the 2009 Green Movement: “Neither Gaza, nor Lebanon, I will sacrifice my life for Iran.” Still, others called for solidarity, pointing to the shared struggles of Palestinians and Iranians by stating,“Palestine is right here.”
Four of these six individuals born and raised in Iran either identified as “pro-Palestine” or expressed empathy for the Palestinian struggle, but they felt it was important in their analysis to both condemn Israel and Palestinian resistance.
“I think ultimately, I am pro-Palestine, but I also don't like saying that because I think there are victims in Israel, like they've lost loved ones because of this, and I think there are victims on both sides. I'm anti-Hamas, especially because I think they're using the Palestinian people as cannon fodder. And I'm anti-Israeli government because I think they are obviously committing international war crimes and acts of genocide and aren't looking out for their own people as well. So yeah, I think those are my feelings summed up.” (Victoria, 27)
Understandings of Palestine/Israel Growing Up in Iran
Among the participants interviewed, six had spent substantial time in Iran, staying at least until obtaining a bachelor’s degree before leaving the country. While once again acknowledging the diversity of political views among Iranians who were raised in Iran, none of these six individuals support the Iranian government, and most are concerned about the risks of returning. Their insights are particularly compelling because, unlike some in the diaspora who recycle the same second-hand narratives since they left Iran—sometimes over forty years ago—these participants lived under the current Iranian regime and witnessed its influence firsthand. Given their experiences, one might assume they would be among the most critical of Palestine. However, four of the six were emphatically pro-Palestine with a specific emphasis on the humanitarian situation. They were able to differentiate between Palestine/Israel and the Iranian government, and they did not let their perceptions of Palestinian resistance groups affect their ability to recognize Palestinian suffering and the grave injustices. The other two, including a woman’s rights activist, were critical of Palestinian resistance as much as they were critical of the Israeli government.
A prevailing theme among these participants was the near-constant presence of Palestine in Iranian government discourse, woven into everyday life. Sharareh (40s) shared: “The images circulated, the street names—everything was always about Palestine. You wouldn't hear the name of Iran as much as you would hear the name of Palestine, and it became this utopia that I imagined we would one day reclaim; that’s how the government presented it.” Similarly, Ellie (37), who grew up near Tehran, described how the government “kind of pushed the Palestine idea down your throat all your life.” She shared that she struggled to empathize with the Palestinian struggle until she left Iran and explored new perspectives post-October 7:
“In Iran, we hear so much about the government’s funding of Hezbollah that we stop wanting to hear about Palestine at all. People in Iran don't empathize with Palestinians because they resent the[ir own] government so deeply. I hated the regime too, and, like many, I failed to see the innocent people behind it. I saw Palestine through the lens of the Iranian regime, but now I’m beginning to see it differently. Friends in Iran are also starting to see Palestinians as people rather than just symbols.”
Mo (32), who attended university in Iran and left in 2020, explained that he only came to recognize the Iranian government’s unique portrayal of Palestine after arriving in the U.S:
“Israel is referred to as the ‘Zionist regime’; even in our passport, it says that the holder cannot travel to the occupied territories. Israel isn’t recognized, even in rhetoric... Palestine is completely dissolved in the image of the Islamic Republic for [Iranians in Iran]. It was only through social media and newer Palestine coverage that Iranians began to see Palestine beyond Iranian propaganda.”
Despite being anti-Zionist himself and critical of Israel’s actions, Mo felt unable to express his views publicly while in Iran:
“I don’t recall anyone in my circle attending a Palestine rally not sponsored by the government. How do you distinguish yourself? The only way to show your support for Palestine without endorsing the state is to include a critique of the government, which isn’t safe. During the 2021 Gaza bombardment, a gallery in Tehran hung a large Palestinian flag, but many, including me, saw it as a pro-Islamic Republic gesture. Supporting Palestine without critiquing the government ends up reinforcing the regime’s image.”
Alia (40s), a human rights lawyer and dissident who left Iran over a decade ago, also struggled to express solidarity with the Palestinian cause while resisting the broader narratives promoted by the Iranian government. She described how although wearing a keffiyeh in many places is understood as supporting the Palestinian people, Iranians directly tie it to the Supreme Leader and the Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC) because, for decades, they have been wearing them. In addition to keffiyeh wearing, Alia spoke about Al-Quds Day, a day initiated by Ayatollah Khomeini in 1979 to express support for the Palestinian people and oppose Israel:
“In my family, we always sympathiz[ed] with the Palestinian cause, and we differentiated between the Islamic Republic narrative and the Palestinian situation. If you attend [Al-Quds Day marches], it means that you are pro-regime… students are forced to attend. The last time I was in something like that was in elementary school. After that, I resisted all the time to attend this kind of thing even as a student during high school.”
These personal stories highlight how deeply the Iranian government’s pro-Palestine and anti-Israel narrative has permeated daily life in Iran. Though these Iranians carried these memories with them to the U.S., their lived experiences did not deter their pro-Palestine sympathies, as one might assume. For each, decoupling the Iranian government from Palestine was challenging and only began after moving to the U.S. Even those with sympathy for Palestine felt discomfort supporting it publicly in Iran, fearing their stance would be co-opted by a government that they do not support.
Anti-Arab Sentiment and Islamophobia
A further explanation for why the pro-Israel Iranian-American community seems so large and outspoken, even among non-Jewish Iranians, is the widespread anti-Arab sentiment and Islamophobia among Iranians and Iranian-Americans. Despite Iran’s diversity, there exists a self-perceived notion of Persian supremacy and exceptionalism that can somewhat mirror the status of Ashkenazi Israeli Jews within the larger Jewish community. The commonly used “villa in the jungle” metaphor is relevant in the context of the Iranian psyche—particularly those who left Iran before or immediately after 1979. These issues were brought to the forefront during the WLF movement, where many Iranians viewed Islam solely through the lens of their experiences living under a theocracy rather than as the multitude of religious ideals and practices of over a billion believers living under a variety of political systems.
While some outside the Iranian diaspora may assume that Iranians are devout or practicing Muslims due to the nature of the Iranian government, what has become clear is a “horseshoe effect.” Many Iranians have become so disillusioned with the government over the past 45 years that it has been difficult for them to decouple Islam, much like Palestine, from the regime. Similarly, although the Israeli occupation of Palestine (and ensuing wars and struggles for Palestinian liberation) is not inherently religious, a number of Iranians negatively associate Palestine with Islam because of their narrow views of Hamas and the Iranian government’s involvement. These then feed into longstanding biases against Arabs—biases that predate 1979, even though ten percent of Iran’s population is Arab. Most of my interview participants recognized this bias. One participant, Sharareh (40s, born and raised in Iran), views these charges of bias as unfair, as they do not fully reflect the broader struggle Iranians face with the trauma inflicted by the current government.
Since October 7, these issues have resurfaced. While some might attribute these prejudices and biases to older generations, they are also present among younger generations raised in Iran who have more recently come to the U.S. Anti-Arab sentiment varies but is notably strong among those in the diaspora who left Iran more recently. Ellie (born and raised in Iran, left Iran ten years ago) reflects on her friends:
“My friends… they have degrees, they're educated, they’re aware of recent events. But unfortunately, because of that Westernization, they want to become more Westernized, and they think that means completely divorcing from Islam. Speaking out for [the] people of Palestine means you're standing by Islam. Palestinians are so dehumanized—they’re considered subhuman. The anti-Arab feelings are so strong in the Iranian diaspora that it doesn't matter if 50,000 people die or 100,000... it’s not crucial.”
The subtle Arab racism was also apparent throughout various participants’ upbringings:
"I grew up just being passively anti-Arab because that’s how it was. Even though my family is religious, like Muslim, and that usually helps, but even so, there were a lot of offhand comments: 'Oh, you know, they're Arab, so they're like this or like that.' 'Iranians are not Arab, blah, blah, blah.' It was something I passively absorbed. I didn’t really question or think about it until college. There’s this obsession with proving we’re not Arab, which is bizarre. Why would you need to prove that unless you thought there was something wrong with being Arab?" (Illa, born and raised in U.S., 28)
"I think there’s something about Iranians. A lot of our community thinks we're better than Arabs in the region. There’s also hatred that the Arabs brought Islam and ‘colonized’ Iran. There’s a lot of misinformation about that as well. They associate Islam and their trauma with the Arab community." (Bita, born and raised in U.S., 24)
Over the past year, participants have experienced various reactions from pro-Israel Iranians:
"I remember video calling my uncle once, [my friend and I were] wearing keffiyehs, and he immediately said, 'Take off that terrorist scarf!' He made other comments like, 'We're not terrorists,' and he talked about 'moderate Arab countries,' specifically Saudi Arabia, which doesn’t make sense because he’s just talking about pro-Western countries. To me, it feels more like self-hatred—like, 'We’re Iranians, we’re pro-Western, we're Persian, we’re white…'" (Illa, 28)
"I wore my 'Free Palestine' bracelet, and we were in Westwood (a prominent Iranian neighborhood in Los Angeles). I got some really strange looks. My mom said, 'I think it's your bracelet.' I didn’t care, but it was unexpected. And during the 'Woman, Life, Freedom' protests, I learned a lot about how Islamophobic the Iranian diaspora can be. That was really shocking to me." (Ghazal, born and raised in U.S., 31)
"With Palestinians right now, when Iranians see them saying 'Allahu Akbar,' they get scared. But I’m like, 'You guys say it too!' We literally have videos of protesters in Iran saying 'Ya Allah.' It’s the same. It’s the fear of Arabic language because we’ve been forced to learn it in school during Quran classes. But that doesn’t justify being scared of the word 'Allahu Akbar' or anything Arab people say. It’s trauma that has transformed into racism." (Bita, 24)
Many pro-Palestine Iranians have been grappling with the seeming moral discrepancy between those who supported WLF based on issues of human rights and a lack of support for the Palestinians in the face of genocide and war:
"I can’t understand how you can support 'Woman, Life, Freedom' and liberation for people, but then not care about the liberation of Palestinian people. That feels strange to me. I think it comes from internalized Islamophobia and anti-Arab sentiment that many people are struggling with." (Lina, born and raised in U.S., 31)
"I think especially with the diaspora who are monarchists and supporters of the [former] Shah, there’s this internalized Islamophobia. They equate everything done by the regime and the ruling class with all Muslims. We even saw a woman attack another woman in a hijab in London, calling herself the daughter of [Shah] Pahlavi, before fleeing to Israel. That’s a vile Islamophobia that mirrors what Iranians were fighting against during the Pahlavi regime. Hijabs were banned, men were forced to wear Pahlavi caps, which prevented them from praying. Now, that same oppression is being reinforced by those who once fought it." (Reza, 25)
There are Iranians within Iran and the diaspora who have stated that the WLF movement and the pro-Palestine movement are inextricably intertwined. However, Sharareh (40s) had a different perspective and disagreed with this notion. For her, WLF opposes Islamism and is focused purely on secularism, while pro-Palestinian movements, in her view, have significant overlap with Islamism:
"That's the most challenging thing I have with pro-Palestinian Iranians. They try to say that 'Woman, Life, Freedom' and pro-Palestine are the same cause, but they’re not. 'Woman, Life, Freedom' stands absolutely against the ideology of the Islamic Republic and Islamism, which is reflected in the values promoted by pro-Palestinian protests, such as martyrdom, intifada, jihad. These are backwards values that 'Woman, Life, Freedom' has nothing to do with. Whoever is trying to link them is lying."
Reflections on Zionist Counterparts and the Future of Iran
The Iranian diaspora's perspectives on Palestine/Israel reveal a complex struggle between collective identity, trauma, and political influence. When asked to reflect on their Zionist counterparts, most said that Iranian support for Israel often stems from the infamous “enemy of my enemy is my friend” mentality.
Traumatized by the Iranian government’s violations, some Iranians are aligning with Israeli intervention as a means of ending the current Iranian regime. Ellie (37) described how, among the people she grew up with in Iran who are now also in the U.S.:
“the wound from the Iranian regime is still too fresh to understand U.S. imperialism. I have former classmates who want Israel to attack Iran; they are actively lobbying for these kinds of policies. They think the way to change the regime in Iran is American or Israeli intervention that just overthrows the regime and then everybody's okay.”
This perspective is particularly compelling when considering the lasting impact of the 1953 CIA-backed coup that overthrew democratically elected Prime Minister Mohammad Mossadegh on the collective Iranian psyche. Illa (28) observed a similar effect of pro-Israel Iranians’ actions, noting:
“I thought it was supposed to mean 'women, life, and freedom,' and not, 'monarchy, racism, and patriarchy,' which is what a lot of these people who were so vocal about [the movement] seem to actually be supporting. They are lending credence to the argument that any protest in Iran and any discomfort with the Iranian government is all a Western Israeli plot... I don’t know who these pro-regime change forces in Iran are, but it seems like they're willing to ally with anyone and use whatever means necessary. That makes me very concerned for the future of Iran and the region.”
Social media and direct Farsi-language propaganda by Israel is also intensifying these divides. “I've never seen any other government have a separate account just in Farsi to influence Iranians... and government officials have Farsi subtitles on their videos on top of Arabic and Hebrew. How do Iranians fit into this topic?” (Bita, 24). She viewed this targeted messaging as an attempt to sway Iranian public opinion toward a pro-Israel stance, framing it as strategically aligned with Iranian interests. Some Iranians went so far as to co-opt Gaza awareness social media posts to shift the focus onto Iran. Ellie shared that when she reposted the viral “All Eyes on Rafah” AI-generated post, Iranians criticized her, asking why she was posting about Gaza instead of Iran. Zionist Iranians quickly created an “All Eyes on Iran” post as a counter to the movement.
Many of these Iranians believe that the pro-Palestine movement is falling into the familiar trap of strategically aligning with factions in the short term (such as Hamas) that will later turn against them, as with the 1979 Revolution in Iran, when many liberals and leftists aligned with Ayatollah Khomeini and his supporters to overthrow the Shah only to be attacked by the new regime.
“I think the most common [Zionist] talking point since October 7th [among Iranians] is ‘we experienced this in 1979 and we're seeing it again happening. And you guys are the people who blindly supported the regime in the beginning because you thought it's going to change Iran, and see now where you are, you're the same group.’” (Bita, 24)
“With the Iranian government propaganda being so pro-Palestine, I feel like, as the Iranian diaspora, we're like trained to be like, ‘oh, the Iranian government's lying.’ Like, we can't align with the Iranian government, you know? And for [the Iranian government], being pro-Palestine/anti-Israel is like a PR gift from God, right? People think that they align with the Iranian government now, but that's not true either. You have to understand that there's a separation.” (Ghazal, 31)
Among those interviewed were U.S.-based student organizers whose opinions about the Iranian diaspora were further informed by their experiences with Iranian Zionists at their respective universities:
“I think that the Iranian diaspora will continue to be the biggest barrier for true freedom for Iranians. I think the example of how they deal with Palestinians is a prime one. Ironically the first time I was ever doxxed wasn't by Israeli or white Zionists, but it was by Iranians—my own people decided to initiate a smear campaign against me, which is really sad because this is still the community that I'll always identify with and struggle for.” (Reza, 25)
“I was at the [university] encampment before the attacks, and all of my friends were texting me [during the attacks]. I felt a lot of disappointment that so many of those people [agitating] were Iranians. Just seeing videos of one Iranian lady saying, 'I hope you guys get raped,' was crazy to me just because she looked like someone who could be my aunt. And I was just like, ‘wow, the way there's no empathy from Iranian Zionists towards anyone who is remotely similar to them.’ It is crazy because you know we're all neighboring countries; we've all had similar histories of colonization, oppression, and we have shared culture.” (Yasmin, born and raised outside the U.S., 21)
These divisions are leading many Iranians to question the principles underpinning their positions regarding Iran and the rest of the region. “You hate something [the Iranian government] so much you don’t realize you’re slowly becoming what you hate.” (Bita, 24).
Concluding Thoughts
“Freedom, liberation, justice... can never be achieved by the oppression of other people. Period. If Iranians lack the basic critical thinking to say multiple injustices can be true at once, then we’re never going to be free, and we're always going to be in the struggle, and we're always going to have to be subjected to unjust forces.” (Reza, 25)
Although this study is not exhaustive, it provides a valuable glimpse into the perspectives of a group of Iranians in the U.S. who are being purposely obfuscated by members of their own community who are cheering on Israel during one of its most devastating attacks on Palestinians in history. Many pro-Palestinian Iranians shared feelings of isolation but remained hopeful that they were not alone and that their Zionist counterparts have been simply more outspoken. Due to the long-standing trend of doxxing and harassment toward pro-Palestinian individuals, anonymity in this study enabled a depth of perspective that might not have otherwise emerged.
The Iranians I spoke to who were raised in the U.S. generally rejected the Iranian government, though many acknowledged its role in resisting Western (and, by extension, Israeli) hegemony. By contrast, those raised in Iran found it more challenging to separate Palestinian support from Iranian government ties. Generational divides were also evident, with younger participants often diverging from their parents, who were more influenced by factors such as Islamophobia, anti-Arab racism, and resentment over Iran’s external focus. Despite these differences, all interviewees supported the “Woman, Life, Freedom” movement, opposed the current Iranian government, and shared concerns about potential alternatives.
This study challenges the notion that pro-Palestinian Iranians are regime apologists. While many appreciated Iran’s stance on Palestine as a counter to Israeli aggression, they were also acutely aware of the regime’s harmful actions domestically and abroad. Zionist Iranians, though likely a minority, are often the most outspoken, frequently using social media and advocacy groups to lobby for Zionist policies.
Ultimately, there are deeper reasons behind the views held by Iranians. However, these interviews offer valuable insights into the enduring impact of the Shah’s era, the 1979 revolution, and its traumatic aftermath on Iranians, both in Iran and in exile. This trauma has exacerbated the Islamophobia and anti-Arab racism that persist within Iranian society. The interviews specifically reveal the lasting impact of the 1979 revolution and the Iranian government’s focus on Palestine, which has fueled a reductive belief that 'if the Iranian government supports X, it must be wrong. While perspectives appear deeply entrenched, especially among older generations, younger Iranians are working to understand realities beyond inherited trauma.
As Israel’s assault on Palestine and on the broader region continue (including against Iran), perspectives may either shift away from Zionism or become more entrenched. One certainty is that hopes for Iranian liberation will diminish if fragmentation over Palestine persists. Ultimately, moral consistency may be the only path toward greater well-being and liberation for all in the region.