From paradise to purpose: How October 7 transformed travel vlogger Tal Oran into Israel's digital defender

On October 7, 2023, Tal Oran was living what many would consider a dream life - traveling through Southeast Asia as a successful travel vlogger with over 200,000 YouTube subscribers. Within days, his life would take a dramatic turn that would lead him from pristine beaches to the frontlines of Israel's digital advocacy.

"I was in Southeast Asia when it happened," Oran recalls, his voice carrying the weight of that pivotal moment. "None of us could have expected the scale of it. But what really shocked me was how quickly people I knew from all over the world became comfortable with antisemitism. It was like a switch flipped."

For Oran, a Mizrahi Jew whose family were refugees from Arab countries, the global response to October 7 wasn't just disturbing - it was personal. "People started calling me a Nazi," he says, still seemingly bewildered by the absurdity. "These were friends, connections from all over the world. People who knew my story, knew my family, knew who I was - calling me a colonizer, a Nazi, a genocide supporter."

The son of an Iraqi Jewish family, Oran had spent a decade building his brand as a happy-go-lucky travel content creator. His channel was thriving, with major sponsorship deals and a dedicated following. But beneath the surface of his carefree travels, he had always carried a deeper mission. "I was doing Israel advocacy light," he explains. "Instead of talking about politics and wars, I would promote travel to Israel, show its beauty when I'd visit family and friends."

But October 7 changed everything. After initially posting two videos about the attacks - including one highlighting Arab victims of Hamas - Oran retreated into silence, grappling with a decision that would reshape his life and career. "I panicked," he admits. "I knew this had the potential to destroy my life, destroy my career. My brand has been a happy-go-lucky travel guy who loves everybody, and the Mizrahi Jewish heritage and the fact that my family has been oppressed by Muslim Arabs for three generations doesn't fit with that vibe."

For three months, Oran meditated on his next move. The travel content world, he explains, has always been dominated by "white Westerners with six-packs jumping off cliffs and doing backflips." His story - one of war, displacement, and generational trauma - didn't fit the mold. But as antisemitism surged globally, he found himself unable to stay silent.

"I'm smart enough to be in this fight," he says with quiet confidence. "I've done the homework, I've done the research. I've spent months sitting down with every ethnic group in Israel - the Samaritans, the Bedouins, the Druze. I've sat with Hamas members in the "West Bank". I've been to Ramallah, to Nablus. I wanted to discover the story, discover the truth."

His decision was cemented when he saw comments on social media calling his grandmother a "white colonizer." "When I post pictures of my grandma, people say she's a white colonizer, that I'm a white colonizer, that we're privileged, that we stole the land," he says with clear frustration. "My whole family are refugees. That's what got me in the fight." "That's what got me in the fight," he says, his voice hardening. "I packed all my stuff up, left Southeast Asia, came to Israel one-way, and decided to pursue this full force. With me, it was either 0 percent or 100 percent."

Now based in Israel, Oran has transformed his platform into a powerful voice for Israeli advocacy, with a particular focus on telling the often-silenced story of Mizrahi Jews. "I feel more comfortable hanging out with Arabs a lot of times than I do with Jewish people," he reveals. "It's my natural environment. They're my people."

His family's story exemplifies the complex relationship between Mizrahi Jews and the Arab world. All four of his grandparents were expelled from Muslim countries simply for being Jewish. "None of them were soldiers, they were just kicked out by Muslims because they happened to be born Jewish," he explains with a hint of controlled anger. "We didn't get any reparations, we didn't get houses, we didn't get humanitarian aid. We got nothing. They had to build themselves up from their bootstraps, and they're still poor."

What keeps him going is the belief that he's making a difference in how Israel's story is told, particularly in amplifying Mizrahi voices. "I want to put the story of the Mizrahi Jews, the Ethiopian Jews, throw it on the forefront so nobody can come at us with these BS talking points of white colonizers and genociders and apartheid," he says with passion. His dream is to inspire more Israelis, especially those from Mizrahi backgrounds, to step up and use their voices. "If I can inspire a couple more people, especially from the Israeli background, to step up and use their stories, that would give me the feeling that I could even take a step back if I wanted to - not that I do."

This history fuels Oran's mission to challenge what he sees as a distorted narrative about Israel. "When I see people calling us colonizers or privileged, I think about my whole family - refugees who never got anything from anyone," he says. His content often targets Arab and Muslim audiences, drawing from his Iraqi Jewish heritage and his natural comfort with Arab culture. "I don't really care about speaking to Jewish people so much," he explains, "because there's a lot of stuff happening already in our echo chamber. My goal when I do hasbara [public diplomacy] is for the other side."

When speaking about Arab-Jewish relations, Oran's voice softens as he recalls his personal hero - Awad Darawshi, a 23-year-old Arab Muslim paramedic who was murdered by Hamas while trying to save Jewish lives at the Nova music festival on October 7.

"He's my hero," Oran says, his voice thick with emotion. "When I see pictures of him, I think, in any other circumstance, if I would have gotten to know this person, this guy would be my friend. He'd be my friend. I'd be WhatsApping him." He pauses, collecting himself. "That kind of spirit that he had in him to go in to save Jewish people... as an Arab Muslim, when the whole world is against you..."

Oran recounts Darawshi's final moments: "He had a call with his brother Muhammad. He told him, 'I saved some people. I'm going back in because I speak Arabic. Maybe I can even talk to Hamas.' His brother begged him, 'Don't go back in.' And he went in anyway, and he was killed."

Whenever people accuse him of racism or hating Arabs, Oran points to Darawshi's story. "If I could ever live up to that kind of person, he's my hero. And I'll never, ever stop talking about his story."

His communication style - direct, uncompromising, and often confrontational - comes from an unexpected source: the Arab world itself. "If you want to know where I got the inspiration to speak the way that I do, it's Arabs," Oran explains with pride. "Arabs are the ones who emboldened me."

He's built a surprising following among Arabs across the Middle East and beyond. "Arabs from all over the world and Muslims from all over the world, from Indonesia, to Somalia, to Oman, to Saudi Arabia, to Lebanon - tons of people in Lebanon, tons of people in Egypt, tons of people in Jordan, Morocco - they reach out to me," he says with enthusiasm. "They say they fucking love me. They say that they're so proud of me for speaking up, that they support everything that I say."

His Druze friends in northern Israel have been particularly influential in shaping his advocacy style. "They're the ones who have really emboldened me to speak like an Arab, to be like an Arab, to keep my rhetoric Arabic, to not speak like an American - to be mean, to be aggressive, to be demeaning," he explains. This approach often draws criticism from Western Jewish audiences who don't understand the cultural context. "If they're raised in a Western society, they don't get it, they don't understand because they haven't had much experience with these kinds of people."

For Oran, this direct communication style isn't just about being provocative - it's about speaking a language that resonates in the Middle East. "This is how it needs to go," he insists. "Every Arab will tell you, every Middle Eastern person will tell you, in this region, you need to be like this. This is how you need to behave. This is how you need to act. It's the only way that Arabs respond."

His approach - direct, sometimes confrontational, and deeply rooted in Middle Eastern cultural sensibilities - has earned him both admirers and enemies. "I get emails from Iran on a regular basis now telling me they want to kill me," he says with surprising nonchalance. "But I also get messages from Arabs and Muslims from all over the world - from Indonesia to Somalia to Oman to Saudi Arabia - saying they support me."

The transformation hasn't been without its costs. Oran now looks over his shoulder more often, particularly when traveling abroad. But he remains undeterred. "Life is different now," he acknowledges. "I have to be more sneaky about where I am, when I say where I'm going. It's a new calculation, a new world, but I wouldn't give it up for anything."

His work schedule is relentless - up at 5 AM recording videos, constantly creating content to feed the algorithms and maintain his message's momentum. "People think content creators are privileged because we get to sit at home or travel," he says. "But you're on this 24/7, doing crazy shifts. It's a nonstop thing."

Oran's story and his mission evokes the biblical story of Queen Esther, who had to choose between comfortable silence and speaking up for her people. "October 7th really felt like my life was on one specific trajectory, and then the world presented me an opportunity to do something pivotal with my voice and experience."

As our conversation draws to a close, Oran reflects on the magnitude of his platform's reach. "It's a little bit daunting to know that you have a big voice," he admits. "I don't take it for granted and I want to do a lot of good with it."

From a travel vlogger seeking beautiful destinations to a voice for Israel in its darkest hour, Tal Oran's journey reflects a broader transformation within the Jewish diaspora - one that has forced many to confront their identity and choose between comfort and conviction. For Oran, that choice has become his life's defining moment, trading paradise for purpose in service of his people's story.

Oran is an exceptional blend of fierceness, Jewish pride and a love for Israel. We are incredibly blessed to have him fighting our fight.

To follow his journey:

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/thetravelingclatt?hl=en

X/ Twitter: https://x.com/travelingclatt

Youtube: https://www.youtube.com/@TheTravelingClatt