Anat Mastor, who fled post-revolution Iran as a teenager, now plays a critical role in life-saving heart surgeries for children from across the globe.
Today she serves as head of perfusion at Save a Child’s Heart (SACH), the Israeli humanitarian organization that has treated more than 8,000 children from 75 countries regardless of race, nationality or religion. Perfusion is the medical process that keeps blood and oxygen flowing through the body during open-heart surgery.
Her journey spans continents and generations—from a frightened Jewish girl growing up in post-revolutionary Iran to a key member of one of the world’s leading pediatric cardiac programs.
Born and raised in Shiraz, Mastor was just 11 years old when the Islamic Revolution of 1979 dramatically reshaped daily life for religious minorities.
“As a Jewish girl, I was required to wear a long black dress and a hijab—a head covering worn by Muslim women,” Mastor recalls. “English classes were canceled, and although I was Jewish, Quran and Islamic religious studies were imposed on us.”
Throughout her teenage years, she lived with constant fear. She remembers hearing reports of persecution, imprisonment and executions of religious minorities in Shiraz—including members of the Bahá’í community—and says that as Jews, her community felt the pressure intensely.
“Many nights I went to sleep fully dressed because of rumors that violent pogroms against Jews might occur,” Mastor says. “We were always prepared to run—even to flee across the rooftops if necessary.”
After finishing high school at 18, Mastor realized Jews were effectively barred from entering universities. Determined to pursue a future elsewhere, she fled Iran, crossing the mountainous border into Pakistan through smuggling routes.
She spent four months in Karachi with other Jewish refugees while the Jewish Agency arranged travel documents.
Her parents chose to remain behind. Mastor never saw her father again; he died the following year, and she was unable to attend his funeral.
Rebuilding her life
Mastor arrived in Israel in 1987 and began rebuilding her life on Kibbutz Be’erot Yitzhak. Already familiar with Hebrew prayers from Iran, she quickly became fluent through ulpan language studies.
A year later, she enrolled in medical biotechnology at what is now the Academic College of Engineering in Tel Aviv, where she chose to specialize in perfusion—a highly technical field that plays a vital role during open-heart surgery.
Perfusionists operate the heart-lung machine during cardiac operations. When surgeons temporarily stop a patient’s heart to perform delicate repairs, the machine takes over the work of the heart and lungs—pumping blood through the body, adding oxygen and maintaining circulation until the heart can safely resume beating.
In 1991, Mastor began her internship at Beilinson Hospital and later that year joined Wolfson Medical Center in Holon as a perfusionist, the same year Dr. Arie Schachner founded the hospital’s Department of Cardiothoracic Surgery.
She has remained part of the program ever since.
Since the founding of Save a Child’s Heart in 1995, Mastor has also been deeply involved in the organization’s mission to provide free cardiac care to children from developing countries. She worked alongside the late Dr. Ami Cohen, one of the organization’s founders, helping build the program in its early years.
“In 1999, my mother finally escaped Iran by posing as a tourist traveling to Turkey and using the opportunity to flee to Israel,” Mastor says. “She passed away two years later. Although her time in Israel was short, I am grateful we were able to spend that time together.”
Beyond the operating room, Mastor has helped train medical professionals around the world. Through Save a Child’s Heart, she mentored Sophia Mlanzi Josephat Lukonge, the first female perfusionist in Tanzania; Tigist Tesfaye Hailemariam, the first female perfusionist in Ethiopia; and Felix Kamuchungu, Zambia’s first perfusionist. She has also helped train some of the first perfusionists in China and Romania.
Her work has contributed to building life-saving cardiac care systems in countries where such expertise previously did not exist.
Feeling at home
For Mastor, the intensity of the operating room is exactly where she feels most at home.
“I truly love being a perfusionist,” she says. “Operating the heart-lung machine is a highly technical responsibility, and it feels like part of my DNA.”
“Muslim, Christian, Jewish—it doesn’t matter to us,” she adds. “We have treated them all, even children from Iraq and Afghanistan—maybe one day from Iran.”
After more than three decades in the field, her motivation remains simple.
Married and the mother of three children, Mastor hopes her story resonates beyond the operating room.
“My message to women around the world is simple: stay strong,” she says. “We deserve equal rights. Time and again, women have proven that we are capable of achieving whatever we set our minds to.”
And to the people of her birthplace, she conveys a message of hope. “One day, I hope the people of Iran will live with dignity and freedom—and that I will be able to visit again,” she says.
