Israel’s Iranian Jews worry about nuclear deal

Adam Taylor for Washington Post May 1st, 2015 ew nations have watched the talks over Iran’s nuclear programme more closely than Israel, which views the Islamic republic as an existential threat. And within Israel, among those especially unsettled by the idea of a final agreement are Iranian Jews. “We are the Persians,” Avi Hanassab, a cook in a Tel Aviv market where many Iranian Jews sell spices and dried fruit, said. “We know how to negotiate.” Hanassab, like many Israeli Jews with Iranian roots, said he still feels a deep bond with Iran, which his parents left in 1964. Yet, like others in the community, he said he feels his knowledge of Iran gives him reason to be fearful as an Israeli. “They sent their best negotiators to negotiate with the States and Europe,” he said. “The Persians are very smart.” Hanassab is among about 140,000 Jews of Iranian descent in Israel, according to the Israeli Central Bureau of Statistics, a population that dwarfs the 30,000 or fewer Jews who remain in Iran. Iranian Jews are prominent in Israeli public life: Rita, one of the country’s most famous singers, was born in Iran, as was former Israeli president Moshe Katsav. Israeli officials have denounced the preliminary agreement recently reached between world powers and Iran; prime minister Binyamin Netanyahu has called it a “dream deal for Iran and a nightmare deal for the world”. In interviews, some Iranian Jews echoed those sentiments, saying they felt that Iran couldn’t be trusted to keep its end of the bargain. Despite leading their lives in Israel, many families of Iranian origin speak Persian and celebrate Iranian holidays. While most cannot visit Iran anymore, they often keep in close contact with relatives who stayed behind with regular phone calls or, fearful of surveillance, by using messaging apps like WhatsApp or Facebook. “I don’t know a single person that hasn’t any relatives in Iran,” Soli Shahva, a Iranian-born professor at Haifa University, said of Iranian Jews in Israel. These ties don’t endear the Iranian regime to Iranian Jews living in Israel, however, many of whom fled the country before the Islamic revolution in 1979 and remain deeply wary of the country’s religious authorities. In fact, many said that it is precisely their deep ties to Iran that allow them to see the situation clearly. Shamshiri, the restaurant Hanassab runs with his mother in a dense Tel Aviv neighbourhood known as Levinsky Market, is praised by many Iranian Jews as the best Iranian eatery in the city. Over steaming bowls of soup and plates of Persian kebabs, the two explained why they had reservations about the prospect of a nuclear deal with Iran. “I am both excited and worried,” said his mother, Molouk Hanassab. Ari Hanassab, who was born in Israel, was more pessimistic. “What the Nazis have done, Iran are saying that they will do,” he said, referring to the comments some Iranian leaders have made calling for the elimination of the Jewish state. Analysts say such doubts are widespread. “I think it’s safe to assume that they are sceptical,” said Meir Javedanfar, an Israeli journalist and a professor of Iranian politics. Javedanfar, who was born in Iran, has criticised what he sees as an overreaction from Israeli politicians to the deal. Many Iranian Jews came from conservative religious communities in Iran, Javedanfar said, and they often remain politically or religiously conservative in Israel. Those political leanings probably made them natural supporters of Netanyahu’s hard stance on Iran, said Meir Litvak of Tel Aviv University’s Alliance Center for Iranian Studies. “Historically, most Iranian Jews have voted for the Likud in the past 30 years, so they are not likely to dispute Netanyahu’s position,” Litvak said, referring to the prime minister’s political party. At Tel Aviv’s Levinsky Market on a recent day, opposition to a nuclear deal with Iran was not hard to come by. “We are a very small country. They are a very strong country,” Aharon Davidi, who works as an accountant for many of the market’s traders, said of Iran. Some said they worried that even if Iran never develops a nuclear weapon, a deal that ends economic sanctions against the country would lead to other problems. “If they lift all the sanctions, the Iranian economy will bloom,” said Baruch Davidi, Aharon’s brother. “Then the money will go to Gaza and to Hezbollah,” he said, referring to the Gaza Strip, which is controlled by Hamas, and to Hezbollah. Both have attacked Israel, and both receive support from Iran. Some were critical of the United States’ leading role in the negotiations. “The Americans don’t understand this region,” said Reuven Haimpir, a fabric cutter. “That’s their main problem.” But amid all the opposition to the Iranian regime, no one seemed to fear the Iranian people themselves, the vast majority of whom are Shia Muslims. “I have family living in Iran now,” said Izhak Makani, a shop worker whose parents left for Israel before he was born. “They are friends with the Muslims. The Muslims over there, they like the Jewish. They don’t hate them.” These mixed feelings are not unusual, Shahva said. Many Iranian Jews in Israel left the country before the Islamic revolution in 1979 and have fond memories of their homeland, he said. Menashe Amir, a Persian-language radio host who moved to Israel in 1959, is one example. He has not been to Iran in decades, yet he said he loves both countries equally. “I was born in Iran, and Iran is like my mother,” he said. “I live in Israel, and I am a Jew. [Israel] is like my father. You cannot ask anybody if they like their father or mother more.” Some feel even stronger. “I consider myself more Iranian than Israeli,” Shahva said with a laugh. “My Israeli friends don’t like it when I say that.” In Shamshuri, where Avi Hanassab spends every day making Iranian meals for a largely Iranian clientele, the pull of the homeland wasn’t quite the same. “It’s not Israeli or Iranian,” Ari said. “I have a Jewish identity. No matter where I am, I’m a Jew.” That, he explained, was why he had to be worried about a nuclear deal. This article appeared in Guardian Weekly, which incorporates material from the Washington Post Read Article%A %B %e%q, %YPosted on No Comments

Adam Taylor for Washington Post
May 1st, 2015

ew nations have watched the talks over Iran’s nuclear programme more closely than Israel, which views the Islamic republic as an existential threat. And within Israel, among those especially unsettled by the idea of a final agreement are Iranian Jews.

“We are the Persians,” Avi Hanassab, a cook in a Tel Aviv market where many Iranian Jews sell spices and dried fruit, said. “We know how to negotiate.”

Hanassab, like many Israeli Jews with Iranian roots, said he still feels a deep bond with Iran, which his parents left in 1964. Yet, like others in the community, he said he feels his knowledge of Iran gives him reason to be fearful as an Israeli.

“They sent their best negotiators to negotiate with the States and Europe,” he said. “The Persians are very smart.”

Hanassab is among about 140,000 Jews of Iranian descent in Israel, according to the Israeli Central Bureau of Statistics, a population that dwarfs the 30,000 or fewer Jews who remain in Iran. Iranian Jews are prominent in Israeli public life: Rita, one of the country’s most famous singers, was born in Iran, as was former Israeli president Moshe Katsav.

Israeli officials have denounced the preliminary agreement recently reached between world powers and Iran; prime minister Binyamin Netanyahu has called it a “dream deal for Iran and a nightmare deal for the world”. In interviews, some Iranian Jews echoed those sentiments, saying they felt that Iran couldn’t be trusted to keep its end of the bargain.

Despite leading their lives in Israel, many families of Iranian origin speak Persian and celebrate Iranian holidays. While most cannot visit Iran anymore, they often keep in close contact with relatives who stayed behind with regular phone calls or, fearful of surveillance, by using messaging apps like WhatsApp or Facebook.

“I don’t know a single person that hasn’t any relatives in Iran,” Soli Shahva, a Iranian-born professor at Haifa University, said of Iranian Jews in Israel.

These ties don’t endear the Iranian regime to Iranian Jews living in Israel, however, many of whom fled the country before the Islamic revolution in 1979 and remain deeply wary of the country’s religious authorities. In fact, many said that it is precisely their deep ties to Iran that allow them to see the situation clearly.

Shamshiri, the restaurant Hanassab runs with his mother in a dense Tel Aviv neighbourhood known as Levinsky Market, is praised by many Iranian Jews as the best Iranian eatery in the city. Over steaming bowls of soup and plates of Persian kebabs, the two explained why they had reservations about the prospect of a nuclear deal with Iran.

“I am both excited and worried,” said his mother, Molouk Hanassab.

Ari Hanassab, who was born in Israel, was more pessimistic.

“What the Nazis have done, Iran are saying that they will do,” he said, referring to the comments some Iranian leaders have made calling for the elimination of the Jewish state.

Analysts say such doubts are widespread. “I think it’s safe to assume that they are sceptical,” said Meir Javedanfar, an Israeli journalist and a professor of Iranian politics. Javedanfar, who was born in Iran, has criticised what he sees as an overreaction from Israeli politicians to the deal.

Many Iranian Jews came from conservative religious communities in Iran, Javedanfar said, and they often remain politically or religiously conservative in Israel. Those political leanings probably made them natural supporters of Netanyahu’s hard stance on Iran, said Meir Litvak of Tel Aviv University’s Alliance Center for Iranian Studies.

“Historically, most Iranian Jews have voted for the Likud in the past 30 years, so they are not likely to dispute Netanyahu’s position,” Litvak said, referring to the prime minister’s political party.

At Tel Aviv’s Levinsky Market on a recent day, opposition to a nuclear deal with Iran was not hard to come by.

“We are a very small country. They are a very strong country,” Aharon Davidi, who works as an accountant for many of the market’s traders, said of Iran.

Some said they worried that even if Iran never develops a nuclear weapon, a deal that ends economic sanctions against the country would lead to other problems.

“If they lift all the sanctions, the Iranian economy will bloom,” said Baruch Davidi, Aharon’s brother. “Then the money will go to Gaza and to Hezbollah,” he said, referring to the Gaza Strip, which is controlled by Hamas, and to Hezbollah. Both have attacked Israel, and both receive support from Iran.

Some were critical of the United States’ leading role in the negotiations.

“The Americans don’t understand this region,” said Reuven Haimpir, a fabric cutter. “That’s their main problem.”

But amid all the opposition to the Iranian regime, no one seemed to fear the Iranian people themselves, the vast majority of whom are Shia Muslims.

“I have family living in Iran now,” said Izhak Makani, a shop worker whose parents left for Israel before he was born. “They are friends with the Muslims. The Muslims over there, they like the Jewish. They don’t hate them.”

These mixed feelings are not unusual, Shahva said. Many Iranian Jews in Israel left the country before the Islamic revolution in 1979 and have fond memories of their homeland, he said.

Menashe Amir, a Persian-language radio host who moved to Israel in 1959, is one example. He has not been to Iran in decades, yet he said he loves both countries equally.

“I was born in Iran, and Iran is like my mother,” he said. “I live in Israel, and I am a Jew. [Israel] is like my father. You cannot ask anybody if they like their father or mother more.”

Some feel even stronger. “I consider myself more Iranian than Israeli,” Shahva said with a laugh. “My Israeli friends don’t like it when I say that.”

In Shamshuri, where Avi Hanassab spends every day making Iranian meals for a largely Iranian clientele, the pull of the homeland wasn’t quite the same.

“It’s not Israeli or Iranian,” Ari said. “I have a Jewish identity. No matter where I am, I’m a Jew.” That, he explained, was why he had to be worried about a nuclear deal.

This article appeared in Guardian Weekly, which incorporates material from the Washington Post

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