Israel's new 'Iran spies': Young, broke and mostly clueless
More than 70 Israelis have been charged with contact with Iranian agents since October 7. An Haaretz investigation reveals that most were not ideologues or master spies, but marginal figures chasing easy money, and often unaware how far they had gone
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More than 70 Israelis have been charged with contact with Iranian agents since October 7. An Haaretz investigation reveals that most were not ideologues or master spies, but marginal figures chasing easy money, and often unaware how far they had gone
Candles burn constantly on the kitchen counter in the home of R., a resident of northern Israel. A book of Psalms lies open on the living room table. Her husband, P., reads from it every day, hoping to protect their son, who has been in detention since last September.
Their son, 24-year-old Yosef, worked last summer at a hotel near the Dead Sea. He is accused of spending two months in contact with several Iranian Telegram users and sending them photos and videos.
The indictment filed against him last November details the material he allegedly transferred: a video of himself driving somewhere in central Israel; footage of a mall in Be'er Sheva, which he falsely claimed to his handlers was in Tel Aviv; videos from inside the hotel where he worked; the names of two employees; footage of a cigarette pack he bought at his handlers' request and hid near the Dead Sea; a video documenting a hike along the Dead Sea shoreline; and reports about the hotel's occupancy, security arrangements and guest list.
Yosef's parents are ultra-Orthodox, but say they are Zionists and that politics was never discussed at home.
"Politics doesn't interest us. The state does," says R. Her husband also volunteers with the traffic police. The interview takes place in their home in a community they asked not to identify because, since the affair became public, their other children have faced harassment.
Yosef's father, this week. The conversation took place in their home, in a community whose name they asked not to disclose due to harassment suffered by the other children since the affair became public.Credit: Gil Eliyahu
Yosef's father, this week. The conversation took place in their home, in a community whose name they asked not to disclose due to harassment suffered by the other children since the affair became public.Credit: Gil Eliyahu
"Yosef went through a lot of educational institutions," his mother says. "There were violent incidents at school, but he never had a criminal record." At 16, he dropped out of the Haredi school he attended. According to his mother, he later became addicted to drugs and was treated at the Malkishua rehabilitation village and the Retorno rehab center. In recent years, he drifted from job to job.
"Every time he got fired, maybe after two months, he came back home. We were his refuge," she says.
Last summer, Yosef began working at a Dead Sea hotel and, according to his parents, seemed for the first time to be finding stability.
"That's probably when 'Career Path' started messaging him," his father says. "Easy money."
"Career Path" was not a real company, but the alias used by the Iranian agent who recruited Yosef. According to the indictment, the agent first contacted him in late 2024, but the connection was severed. Last July, Yosef renewed contact. Other Telegram users calling themselves Katz, Uoori and additional aliases later joined the conversations. Yosef allegedly received about 12,000 shekels for carrying out 34 missions.
His parents insist that during questioning, Yosef said he believed he was scamming the Iranians.
"I wasn't angry with him because I knew he hadn't acted out of ideology and hadn't endangered state security," R. says. "Otherwise it would have been very hard for me to cope."
Again and again, the conversation returns to the family's anger at the authorities.
"They inflated the indictment," his father says. "How can a picture of cigarettes or a hotel lobby endanger anyone? You can find the hotel on Google. They said he 'photographed the border,' but from the hotel room all you can see is the sea."
R. says her son did not realize his actions were illegal.
"He never intended to harm state security and didn't know that even trying to scam them was forbidden. Nobody explains these things," she says. "Even now, people are getting text messages from foreign agents asking them to cooperate. The authorities should go to the media and clearly explain what is allowed and what isn't. People don't understand how serious this is."
Hotels near the Dead Sea. Yosef transferred reports about a hotel where he worked, including occupancy levels, security arrangements and the guest list.Credit: Olivier Fitoussi
Hotels near the Dead Sea. Yosef transferred reports about a hotel where he worked, including occupancy levels, security arrangements and the guest list.Credit: Olivier Fitoussi
The parents are also furious about the conditions under which their son is being held in the high-security Gilboa Prison, where they are barred from visiting or speaking with him.
"They treat them like terrorists," R. says. "One hour in the yard, 23 hours in a cell, tiny food portions, a restricted canteen, seven-minute showers. Everything is collective punishment. Nobody examines each case individually." Her husband nods. "Prisoners still have human rights, basic rights," he says. "And we're fighting for that."
Memories of the KGB
Like Yosef, dozens of Israelis recruited by Iranian operatives have been arrested over the past two years. At least 72 have been indicted.
But unlike notorious espionage cases from the past, including Mordechai Vanunu, Udi Adiv and Marcus Klingberg, most of the current defendants did not act out of ideology. Instead, investigators say, they acted out of economic desperation and indifference to the possible consequences of their actions.
A video by the Israel Police warning against spying for Iran.
A Haaretz review of the indictments found that most of the 72 defendants were not charged with offenses involving ideological motivation or intent to harm the state. Twenty-nine defendants face severe charges such as delivering information to the enemy with intent to harm state security, an offense punishable by life imprisonment, or aiding the enemy during wartime, which carries a maximum sentence of life imprisonment or death. Yet even in many of these cases, prosecutors have not attributed clear ideological motives to the defendants.
Like Yosef, most had no meaningful access to classified material. In many cases, the information they transferred appears marginal: photographs of locations easily found online, news reports already published in the media, and sometimes fabricated or false information – all in exchange for a few hundred dollars.
In this respect, little connects Yosef to his cellmate, 66-year-old Eduard Yusupov, who was arrested last February and accused of delivering information to the enemy with intent to harm state security, providing information that could aid the enemy, maintaining contact with a foreign agent and demonstrating intent to commit treason.
Yusupov immigrated to Israel in 2019 to reunite with his three children and their mother, whom he had not seen for nearly two decades since they immigrated from Azerbaijan. He had remained in Baku, remarried and, according to his children, worked in restaurants and tourism. A security source told Haaretz that Yusupov had previously been convicted of fraud offenses and served prison time in Azerbaijan.
Eduard Yusupov, who was arrested last February.Credit: Courtesy of the familyEduard Yusupov, who was arrested last February.Credit: Courtesy of the family
He moved to Netivot with his ex-wife and quickly became central to the family's life.
"He always helped with the grandchildren," says his daughter Ida. "If someone was sick, he stayed with them."
Outside the home, things were more difficult. According to his children, Yusupov struggled with the language, the culture and the high cost of living. He moved between manual labor jobs and tried unsuccessfully to save enough money to open a restaurant. A year before his arrest, he injured his shoulder and could no longer work.
"That's when hell began," Ida says.
According to the charges, an acquaintance from Azerbaijan connected Yusupov in October 2024 with an Iranian agent posing as a businessman in the tourism industry. At first, the conversations revolved around business opportunities. Later, the requests shifted to assignments: photographing locations such as the zoo and municipal library in Be'er Sheva, the Osher Ad supermarket in Ashdod, and routes near IDF bases in southern Israel.
Later, at the handler's request, Yusupov carried out photography missions in Haifa and even rented an apartment overlooking the city's port. In return, he allegedly received about 41,000 shekels (around $15,000).
Attorney Ori Dayagi, who represents Yusupov through the Public Defender's Office, says the contact did not begin with a random online message but through someone his client knew.
Haifa's port. At his handler's request, Yusupov carried out photography missions in Haifa, and even rented an apartment overlooking the city's port at his instruction.Credit: Rami ShlushHaifa's port. At his handler's request, Yusupov carried out photography missions in Haifa, and even rented an apartment overlooking the city's port at his instruction.Credit: Rami Shlush
"He had no immediate reason to suspect wrongdoing," Dayagi says. "He was trying to improve his financial situation, and gradually the requests became stranger: 'Take a picture here,' 'Check something there.' At some point he realized some of it was unusual, but by then he was already deep inside."
During the legal proceedings, Yusupov's children learned that their father had been under surveillance for months.
"They claim this caused serious harm to state security, but they allowed it to continue," Ida says angrily. "If it was really that dangerous, why didn't they stop it earlier?"
From the family's perspective, the authorities bear some responsibility for allowing the alleged activity to continue while monitoring him.
A security source familiar with the investigation confirmed to Haaretz that Yusupov's recruitment was unusual and that the relationship initially appeared business-related. The source also agreed that had he been arrested earlier, the affair might never have developed into an indictment. Still, the source noted that Yusupov continued carrying out assignments even after he began suspecting their true nature.
The conversations initially focused on business, but later he was assigned missions, including photographing sites such as the zoo (photogeraphed) and the municipal library in Be'er Sheva.Credit: Eliahu HershkovitzThe conversations initially focused on business, but later he was assigned missions, including photographing sites such as the zoo (photogeraphed) and the municipal library in Be'er Sheva.Credit: Eliahu Hershkovitz
Those accused or convicted of contact with Iranian agents are currently held in a special wing in Gilboa Prison after being transferred from a similar wing at Damon Prison. So far, only two cases have ended in convictions and prison sentences. The rest are still being heard in court.
Yusupov stands out in the prison wing not only because of the severity of the charges against him, but also because of his age. Only four of the 72 defendants were 48 or older at the time of the alleged offenses. The majority, 44 defendants, were between 18 and 27 years old. Two were minors.
In other respects, however, Yusupov fits the broader pattern. Sixty-four of the 72 defendants are men. Only four are women. Among the men are five reservists. Four additional defendants were serving in the regular military, although their identities and genders remain under a gag order.
Another interesting characteristic is the defendants' background. Of the 72, 14 are Arab citizens of Israel and eight are Haredi, roughly reflecting their share of the population. But more than a third, at least 24 defendants including Yusupov, are immigrants from the former Soviet Union or their children. That is more than double their proportion in the general population, which stands at roughly 15 percent.
Nearly half of those defendants, 11 people, face especially serious charges, including aiding the enemy during wartime and delivering information with intent to harm state security. One prominent example was the October 2024 arrest of seven northern Israeli residents of Azerbaijani origin, including a father and his two sons.
Dr. Sagit Yehoshua, a criminologist and profiler affiliated with Forum Dvorah and Reichman University's International Institute for Counter-Terrorism, says the data does not surprise her.Credit: Itai YaronDr. Sagit Yehoshua, a criminologist and profiler affiliated with Forum Dvorah and Reichman University's International Institute for Counter-Terrorism, says the data does not surprise her.Credit: Itai Yaron
Dr. Sagit Yehoshua, a criminologist and profiler affiliated with Forum Dvorah and Reichman University's International Institute for Counter-Terrorism, says the data does not surprise her.
"When you grow up in a totalitarian country, treason and espionage are things you are exposed to constantly," she says. "People internalize what is normalized in their society. In the Soviet Union, betrayal of this kind existed at very high levels."
Dvir Kariv, a former Shin Bet field officer who handled agents for two decades, also sees the defendants' social background as significant.
"In some societies, spying is more deeply embedded," he says. "In Russia, because of the KGB legacy, people grew up with the idea that you don't say no to the regime or to someone operating you."
Chief Superintendent Sarit Peretz, who heads the security investigations division in Lahav 433's international crimes unit, says ideology barely appears in the cases under investigation.
Dvir Kariv, a former Shin Bet field officer who handled agents for two decades, also sees the defendants' social background as significant. "In some societies, spying is more deeply embedded."Credit: Tomer ApplebaumDvir Kariv, a former Shin Bet field officer who handled agents for two decades, also sees the defendants' social background as significant. "In some societies, spying is more deeply embedded."Credit: Tomer Applebaum
"Not every spy acts out of financial distress," she says. "But in many of these cases, we see greed, economic hardship and low socioeconomic status."
Kariv likewise believes very few of the suspects were ideologically motivated. Most, he says, were driven by money or curiosity.
Yehoshua argues that many people recruited by foreign intelligence agencies come from society's margins.
"The profile repeats itself over the years," she says. "When you look at factors such as education, awareness, intelligence and social involvement, these are not people coming from strong social frameworks."
She also believes the surge in cases since October 7 reflects a broader rupture between citizens and the state.
"People tell themselves, 'The state didn't protect me, so the contract has already been broken and I can do what I want,'" she says. "That lowers people's sense of commitment to the state. This doesn't mean that a person will necessarily go and look for it. In most cases, they are approached."
Kariv also links the rise in espionage cases to the broader national climate.
"We're in a prolonged war, which gives intelligence operations time to develop," he says. "That creates fertile ground for Iranian intelligence."
Currently, those accused or convicted of contacts with Iran are held in a special wing in Gilboa Prison.Credit: Gil EliyahuCurrently, those accused or convicted of contacts with Iran are held in a special wing in Gilboa Prison.Credit: Gil Eliyahu
He also points to the erosion of public accountability.
"In a country where nobody takes responsibility for failures, people start saying to themselves 'I can also screw up a little.' When the entire system avoids accountability, including the prime minister and the political leadership, citizens also feel less accountable."
Kariv, who has worked as a school educator for the past nine years, says the state also failed to properly warn the public about the risks. More than a year ago, police released warning videos in Hebrew and Russian, but he says that was not enough.
"It's an educational issue," he says. "It starts with teaching people who not to talk to."
He adds that the social fallout from COVID-19 and the war made many young Israelis more vulnerable.
"After COVID, after the war, after long periods without school, many young people became more attached to their phones and less connected to social frameworks," he says. "That makes them easier targets for intelligence agencies."
A chat between one of the accused and his Iranian handler.A chat between one of the accused and his Iranian handler.
All the experts interviewed by Haaretz stressed that even seemingly minor acts can carry serious long-term consequences.
Attorney Dvora Chen, former head of the State Attorney's Office department for security affairs and special operations, dismisses most of the recent defendants as "toy spies." Still, she warns that intelligence agencies deliberately cast a wide net.
"The Iranians know that out of 100 people, maybe 98 will be useless," she says. "But they are looking for the one or two bigger fish who can later be blackmailed or recruited into more serious activity."
And Kariv adds: "It's important for people to understand that even if you've already crossed a line, every moment you decide to stop is the right moment," he says. "Because it always deteriorates. The next request will always be more serious."
Held in conditions of cold and hunger
Perhaps no one speaks more passionately about the people dubbed "Iran spies" than attorney Ben Maman, son of Moti Maman, a former building contractor arrested nearly two years ago and convicted of contact with a foreign agent and entering an enemy state without permission.
According to the ruling in his case, Maman entered Iran twice. During his first visit, in April 2024, which lasted about six hours, he met a businessman with whom he had previous commercial ties. During the meeting, the businessman asked whether he would be willing to carry out tasks for the Iranian regime, including hiding money or weapons and photographing locations in Israel.
Maman replied that he would look into whether such things were possible, but according to the verdict, he never acted on the requests.
Moti Maman, a former building contractor arrested nearly two years ago and convicted of contact with a foreign agent and entering an enemy state without permission.Credit: Eliahu HershkovitzMoti Maman, a former building contractor arrested nearly two years ago and convicted of contact with a foreign agent and entering an enemy state without permission.Credit: Eliahu Hershkovitz
Four months later, he returned to Iran. By then, according to the court, he already understood that the meetings could involve "criminal-security implications." He spent two nights in the country and met with two people who "acted on behalf of the Iranian regime's intelligence elements."
The two men asked him to hide money for them and assassinate senior Israeli officials, as well as Arab Israelis accused of betraying Iranian intelligence. Maman rejected some of the requests outright and, in any case, demanded an advance payment of $1 million before proceeding. None of the plans materialized.
In August 2024, after returning from his second trip, he was arrested by the Shin Bet and police and confessed to the offenses.
Despite his age, his confession and the fact that prosecutors acknowledged he had not ultimately provided the Iranians with meaningful intelligence, Maman was sentenced to 10 years in prison.
The late Judge Beni Sagi, president of the Be'er Sheva District Court, acknowledged in the ruling that the sentence represented "a significant escalation" compared with punishments traditionally imposed for similar offenses. But he justified the severity by citing the wartime circumstances under which the acts were committed, while Israeli soldiers were fighting in Gaza. Maman has appealed to the Supreme Court, which is expected to hear the case this year.
Speaking with Haaretz, Ben Maman points to similarities between his father and many of the other defendants: men under economic strain who were trying to improve their circumstances.
Attorney Ben Maman, son of Moti Maman. "These are mostly people from difficult socioeconomic backgrounds who are struggling to survive in Israel."Credit: Itai RonAttorney Ben Maman, son of Moti Maman. "These are mostly people from difficult socioeconomic backgrounds who are struggling to survive in Israel."Credit: Itai Ron
"These are mostly people from difficult socioeconomic backgrounds who are struggling to survive in Israel," he says. "You see people in their twenties who are really on the margins of their families, neighborhoods and cities. They were looking for some kind of springboard to improve their lives, and this is where they ended up."
Since his father's arrest, Maman has filed petitions over prison conditions and begun representing additional defendants accused of similar offenses. He has visited the prison wing several times as an attorney.
Like other relatives interviewed by Haaretz, he rejects the blanket use of the term "espionage" and says the authorities ignore the enormous differences between the cases.
"To portray all these people as master spies and enemies of the state is ridiculous," he says. "Most of them were not motivated by ideology or hatred of Israel. The extreme treatment they receive is an attempt to distract from much more serious failures by state institutions in recent years."
Yehoshua believes the lack of distinction reflects Israel's broader security mentality.
"We are a very paranoid country, and we have zero tolerance for anything connected to national security," she says. "Even among security prisoners, there's an enormous range of offenses, yet someone who threw a stone can end up under the same conditions as a murderer."
Yehoshua routinely evaluates the psychological risk profiles of people accused of terrorism-related offenses, but she says no such assessments were requested in cases involving contact with Iranian agents. "No one is even bothering to examine their mental state," she says.
In addition to pursuing his father's appeal, Ben Maman has focused much of his effort on improving conditions in the prison wing. He says that detainees suffer from hunger, poor sanitation and the use of stun grenades. He also describes what he calls an "inverted light regime."
"There are no windows in the cells," he says. "During the day, guards force detainees to sit in darkness, and at 6 P.M. they turn on the lights to disrupt their sleep."
According to Maman, he had to petition the court to secure an extra blanket for a detainee suffering from cold temperatures at Damon Prison. In another case, he said, he went to court to force prison authorities to cook the rice served to prisoners.
"They deliberately served them uncooked rice," he says. "For weeks, people could not eat and were starving. You see how people are treated there and you come back broken. You ask yourself why anyone should be treated like this."
"The Israel Prison Service is a security organization that operates according to the law," the agency said in a statement. "Its personnel are responsible for the safe and proper custody of all detainees and for safeguarding their rights. The detention conditions of prisoners held for espionage offenses against the State of Israel were determined in accordance with the law, and all petitions regarding conditions in the current wing have been rejected by the courts."
