Nowruz 2026 in Copenhagen: Iran, Israel, and a Shared Space on the Street

This coming weekend, when day and night balance at the spring equinox, the Iranian people will celebrate Nowruz – the Persian New Year. This is a festival that has been around for thousands of years, with roots deeper than the radical Islam that has tried to erase it since 1979. For Iranians, the holiday that the regime attempts to dismiss as "pagan" and primitive has become a symbol of resistance: for women's freedom, for equality, and against religious colonialism.

On Saturday, March 21, a massive demonstration of the Iranian diaspora will take place in Copenhagen. If you look at the crowd, you will see a sight that confuses the West: the historical Lion and Sun flags of Iran are waved alongside the flags of Israel.

These people grew up under the shadow of cranes from which regime opponents were hanged. They experienced firsthand the terror of exposing their hair or engaging in forbidden love. They were also educated in a system that forced them to scream "Death to Israel" every morning and delve into anti-Semitic conspiracy theories as part of the curriculum.

They have seen the manipulation from the inside, which is why they are the first to recognize the propaganda of the Islamic Republic on social media and in the Western media. While Europe eagerly swallows narratives of psychological warfare, the Iranians in exile expose the lie. For them, the connection between the regime that oppresses them and the hatred of Israelis and Jews in the Western and Arab worlds is as clear as the color of the sky.

In Copenhagen in 2026, Jewish and Israeli identity is pushed deep into the closet. Waving the Israeli flag in public space poses an immediate danger to your life. And while Danish children learn in open schools without fences, Jewish children are the only ones surrounded by high walls. But the walls and physical security are just the tip of the iceberg.

Since October 7, the Jewish and Israeli community has been experiencing a "quiet boycott." The more the environment is considered "enlightened" and progressive, the greater the likelihood of social condemnation. Young Danes who support Israel's right to exist struggle to find partners, while symbols of intifada are the hottest accessory in town.

The real tragedy is the Iranian community. Whether they arrived in Denmark as students and professionals seeking a future, or as refugees fleeing for their lives – they have all experienced a regime that persecutes people for their sexual orientation, refusal to wear a hijab, or demand for freedom. Now, as they raise their voices in the free world against the oppression they know so well, the progressive left in Denmark labels them as "Islamophobes." These people, who sacrificed so much to live according to liberal values, find themselves ostracized by the very circles that were supposed to be the first to embrace them.

Iranians in Denmark are not afraid of losing friends, and they are not afraid to wave the Israeli flag. The price of living in the closet is far higher than social ostracism. They know that the liberation of Iran is the key to the liberation of the entire Middle East – from terror, from intellectual blindness, and from the horror of "The Handmaid's Tale" imposed on ninety million people. They recognize in the Jewish and Israeli experience something familiar: the fear, the isolation, and the need to defend the very right to exist.

This demonstration is therefore also an invitation: to stand together, openly, without fear.

I look forward to the day when these ninety million wise and brave people will officially join the free world. Until that happens, our presence alongside them on Saturday is an acknowledgment of our shared fate.