The Enemy of My Enemy

On One Conversation, a Shift in Perspective, and a Chance for a New Middle East

In recent months, I started a new personal project: I’ve been speaking with people who hold antisemitic views—not to change their minds, but to understand. To understand where those views originate, what sustains and reinforces them, and what—if anything—might undermine them. I don’t come with arguments, and I don’t try to persuade. I simply listen. These conversations are, for the most part, difficult. They’re full of stereotypes, hostility, fear, and often ignorance. But sometimes, something cracks. Like in an especially interesting conversation I had this week with a man from an Arab country in the region.

Right at the start, he apologized—he had nearly canceled the meeting out of fear that I was a Mossad agent. He knew who I was, had read my books, follows me on LinkedIn, and still, he was afraid. Afraid that I’d harm him, that I’d use the conversation against him. And yet, in the end, he chose to come. At first, he spoke like many others do: that the Holocaust was a long time ago, that Jews use it as an excuse, that Israel is violent, arrogant, domineering. He complained that we see ourselves as the “chosen people” and that all others are inferior. But after almost an hour, I shifted the focus of the conversation and asked if anything had changed for him recently—and at that moment, something interesting happened. He said he doesn’t like Jews and doesn’t trust Israel, but since the start of the operation against Iran, something in him had shifted.

“You may be enemies,” he said, “but they—the Iranians—have directly harmed my country, my family, my friends. And maybe, as the saying goes, the enemy of my enemy… is not necessarily a friend, but maybe less of an enemy.” It wasn’t a speech of love. It wasn’t a shift in values. But it was a shift in perspective—and that is precisely what makes this period an opportunity.

Because if someone who holds antisemitic views pauses for a moment to consider seeing us differently—not out of sympathy, but out of interest—that’s a moment worth pausing on. We live in a complex regional reality, where relationships between countries are woven not only through ideology or religion, but also—perhaps even more—through interests, fears, and strategic calculations. And if there’s a moment when perception changes, it usually doesn’t come through an embrace—but through a crack. A small fracture that suddenly reveals a different picture.

So how can we seize this moment?

We have examples from the past. When a major earthquake struck Turkey in 1999, Israel sent rescue teams and medical aid. The Turkish media portrayed the Israelis as heroes. It didn’t erase the political tensions, but it did create an emotional shift—temporary, but meaningful. An even more powerful example is Sadat. One day, Egypt was Israel’s fiercest enemy. The next, Egypt’s president landed at Ben-Gurion Airport, spoke in the Knesset, and changed reality. Israeli children stood on the roads waving Egyptian flags. Suddenly, peace was imaginable.

So maybe now—amid war, anxiety, and loss—is a time to think differently. Not only militarily, but what we can gain regionally and humanely.

Just as we did in Turkey, Israel could initiate a humanitarian move—aid for refugees, care for the wounded, or even direct assistance to the Iranian people. Not as an enemy, but as a nation that can distinguish between government and citizens. Between strategy and compassion. And Israel can also take diplomatic initiative. Perhaps this is the time for our Prime Minister to act like Sadat—but in reverse. To go on a public round of talks with the governments of our neighboring countries, to show goodwill and readiness for a better, shared future. And if something like that is even possible—this feels like the moment to try.

If we miss the regional opportunity—we may win a battle but lose the war. And perhaps the greatest opportunity that has emerged here will pass us by, without us even noticing.

History doesn’t always repeat itself, but sometimes it flashes us a sign.

Will we know how to read it?