Israelis fleeing post-Oct. 7 instability receive warm welcome from Jews in chilly Toronto

TORONTO, Canada — Despite a lifetime of wars, terror attacks, and constant security threats, Rotem Foux, a resident of the central Israeli city of Kfar Saba, always felt secure. The IDF, she believed, was the strongest army in the world, and the private and public bomb shelters found in most apartment buildings and around cities would offer protection if the need arose.

“All that changed on October 7,” she said. “Something broke in my heart. I no longer felt safe in my own country. Already before that, my husband and I were really scared about Israel’s future, especially its democracy, due to the legal revolution the [Netanyahu] government tried to do.”

As the magnitude of the disaster became known — thousands of Hamas-led terrorists slaughtered some 1,200 people in southern Israel and abducted 251 to the Gaza Strip in an unprecedented invasion that left the Gaza envelope in ruins — Foux and her family left their home in Kfar Saba and flew to Athens, Greece, where they lived until moving to Toronto.

When they arrived last spring, they were among the estimated 5,000 Israelis who moved to Toronto in the wake of the October 7, 2023, onslaught. It was Foux’s first time in Canada.

The family decided on the country after hearing it had introduced a special initiative for Israelis — the Special Measures Open Work Permit initiative — which provided a legal pathway to living in Canada. Foux and her husband chose Toronto because it was already home to about 60,000 Israelis, an increasingly large segment of the area’s 200,000-strong Jewish community.

In 2024, according to Canadian government figures, nearly 11,000 Israelis received either work permits under a special program or regular temporary residence status. The number of Israelis applying for temporary residence (often a step toward permanent residence or official immigration) more than tripled in 2024 compared to the previous year, from 3,153 to 9,753. Toronto was the most popular destination, by far.

Most Israeli newcomers do not seem overly concerned by the drastic rise in antisemitism in Canada since October 7. Newly elected Prime Minister Mark Carney, has — much to the consternation of many Canadian Jews — said little about the problem.

It is an issue for Jews in Toronto, where the police just released sobering new statistics, showing that reported hate crimes increased 19 percent in 2024 compared to 2023, of which Jews were the leading target (40%), despite representing less than 4% of the city’s population. Likewise, a lengthy recent Israeli Diaspora Ministry report stated, “In 2024, Canada earned the dubious distinction as ‘champion of antisemitism.’”

However, for many Israeli transplants, the embrace of the Toronto Jewish community has more than made up for any yet-to-be experienced hate crimes.

“Toronto’s Jewish community has been amazing, like one big welcoming family,” says Foux, who worked as a schoolteacher and tour guide in Israel. “They made our landing much smoother.”

Israeli newcomers are a top priority for the Prosserman JCC and Schwartz/Reisman Centre.

“Since October 7, we’ve welcomed a significant influx of Israeli families seeking stability and connection in Toronto,” says Prosserman JCC and Schwartz/Reisman Centre CEO Andrew Levy. “We’ve responded by creating programs, services, and a warm, supportive community where they can rebuild and find a sense of belonging.”

Like other immigrants to Canada, Israeli newcomers face many challenges, including housing, employment, schools for children, administrative and bureaucratic requirements, language and cultural differences, and the fabled Canadian winter.

They receive help from various Jewish agencies, whose funding comes largely from the UJA Federation of Greater Toronto, the city’s main Jewish community organization.

“After October 7, we quickly identified two segments of Israelis who were especially vulnerable in Greater Toronto,” says Adam Minsky, UJA President and CEO. “The first were those visiting Toronto [during the High Holidays] when the war began, and couldn’t return to Israel due to travel restrictions and limited flights, or they lived in the affected war zone, or other reasons. The second were Israelis who came to Canada after the war began, seeking short-term or longer-term respite from the trauma and crisis that were unfolding there.”

Hot before it was cool

Well before October 7, some Israelis already had their eyes on Canada.

“For a long time, moving here was on my mind,” says Elad Shtamer, 40, a dance and music teacher and computer programming tutor. “After the birth of my daughter in 2020, the idea became more present in my life. Then, when the Canadian government made it easier for Israelis to get work permits after October 7, it became more real.”

At the time, he, his wife, and their daughter were living in Tzlafon, an agriculture cooperative 35 kilometers (roughly 22 miles) east of Ashdod. Subsequent events ultimately led them to move to Toronto last June, where they welcomed their second child a few months later.

“What influenced us was the ongoing war over our heads,” adds Shtamer. “We lived in a village where we could hear the bombings of both Hamas and the IDF and we needed some peace and quiet, especially for our daughter.”

Many Israelis moving to Toronto contact JIAS (Jewish Immigrant Aid Services), some even before arriving. It provides useful information and orientation sessions, assistance navigating Canadian bureaucracy, connections with Jewish community bodies, housing and social and professional opportunities, mental health/well-being programs, and language support.

As manager of community engagement at JIAS, Jodi Block works with Israeli newcomers. She helps with housing needs and oversees the 150 volunteers from the community who have assisted Israelis post-October 7.

“The work we did with Ukrainians arriving in Toronto following the Russian invasion in 2022 made us better prepared for the arrival of Israelis over the past 19 months,” says Block, who has worked at JIAS since 2004. “We formalized a kind of crisis handbook as a turn-key response plan, which provided a framework for our response starting October 7.”

She does not pass judgment on those who leave Israel.

“Mobility is part of 21st-century life and people choose where to live for different reasons,” adds Block.

There to stay

Elinor Aichenblatt and her family arrived in Toronto last May. On October 7, she, her husband and two young daughters were living in Sderot, where Hamas terrorists killed dozens of people that day.

“It was horrible,” says Aichenblatt, 40, who was then five months pregnant. “It really felt like the Holocaust. We locked ourselves in our bomb shelter, knowing we had to be quiet, which was nearly impossible with small children. We really feared for our lives.”

The next day, while Hamas terrorists were still in the area, Elinor and her family fled north to the center of the country, moving several times before settling in Kfar Saba.

“It was extremely difficult,” adds Aichenblatt. “We had to show our daughters everything was okay. I had to function while I was completely broken, physically and mentally. I couldn’t breathe anymore. The pressure and sense of insecurity overwhelmed me. There was a feeling of mourning, fear, and sadness. I knew people who were murdered, kidnapped, and died during the war.”

After her husband learned of Canada’s special visa program for Israelis, he told Aichenblatt about it.

“At first, I thought he was crazy,” she says. “We had already gone through so much and now again to move, and to another continent? But deep down, I wanted it. I felt it would be the right step for me and my family.”

Both Aichenblatt, who worked as a nurse in Israel and has a background in IT and medical products sales, and her husband, an architect and software engineering manager, still seek employment. Nevertheless, she has no regrets about the move.

“I needed it,” says Aichenblatt. “I’m breathing again. It’s so quiet and peaceful here, stress-free and beautiful. It’s what I need these days.”

When asked if she would consider moving back to Israel if the war in Gaza ended and the border with Lebanon stayed quiet, she’s definitive.

“No way!” Aichenblatt insists. “We lost faith and trust in the notion of peace. And after settling down in a different country with our kids, we’re not leaving at this stage. That’s probably the case for most Israelis who’ve moved here since October 7.”

The surge in interest in Toronto from Israelis has led to grassroots initiatives and commercial services offering assistance to newcomers and those exploring such a move.

Michal Harel, who came with her husband and two children from Emek Hefer in Israel to Toronto in 2019 for a job relocation, heads the volunteer organization Ovrim to Canada, or Moving to Canada, which offers free information to Israelis about Canada.

“Immediately after October 7, my husband and I started receiving phone calls and emails from friends and relatives in Israel who knew about our relocation to Canada,” says Harel, who also runs a relocation company. “They asked us about moving to Canada and if we could help them. We found ourselves talking on the phone for hours every day, explaining Canadian immigration rules and life here. Eventually, realizing we couldn’t keep talking on the phone all day, we built a website about moving to Canada.”

Since its inception, the Hebrew website, which includes guidance on Canadian bureaucracy, immigration regulations, employment, health and community life and recommends immigration consultants and realtors, has had more than 100,000 visitors, of which 5,000 have either emailed or phoned Ovrim to Canada. Every day, the non-profit receives queries from Israeli families and individuals of all ages and socioeconomic levels.

“Many ask about antisemitism, but the national and personal security situation in Israel scares them more,” says Harel. “Besides, Canada is probably the best country on earth for newcomers, be they Jews, Muslims, or any other people.”

Toronto bound

Stav Adivi has been assisting Israeli newcomers since 2010. His real estate agency and his website Canada Soft Landing mainly find rental housing for Israelis and give advice on employment, where to live, schooling for children, opening a bank account, obtaining a Canadian driving license and connecting with Jewish community support agencies. As he is paid by landlords for finding new tenants, Adivi does not charge newcomers for his services.

Most Israelis contact Adivi before arriving, finding his Hebrew-language website via Facebook, Google or word-of-mouth. Over the past year, he has averaged 10 to 15 emails or phone calls from Israelis every week, significantly more than before October 7. Adivi, a Toronto resident since 2006, following three years in the US after leaving Israel, expects the numbers to rise before the special visa program ends on July 31.

Toronto has particular appeal.

“The majority come to the Toronto area because its large population provides a strong economy and better job market, and also due to Jewish community support and networking with other Israelis for social and professional needs,” says Adivi. “Many, if not most, Israelis like to be near other Israelis as consolation for leaving behind family and friends back home.”

Less of a stigma

Former Jerusalemite Galya Sarner (full disclosure: Sarner is married to this article’s author) has long worked closely with Israelis in Toronto.

“It’s sad to see how many Israelis have left Israel since October 7 and moved to Toronto,” says Sarner, who, as director of Israel engagement at the Prosserman JCC and Schwartz/Reisman Centre, oversees events and projects to integrate newcomers into the community. “They may now be far from Israel, but you can’t take Israel away from them. They’re incredible ambassadors for Israel, bringing the Israeli flavor and culture at its best.”

Today, expatriate Israelis face less stigma back home than in the past.

“My family and friends were all supportive of my decision, even my parents,” says Aichenblatt. “They understood and encouraged me to take that step. They knew how hard it was for me in Israel after October 7.”

Foux faced a much more mixed response.

“My family was very supportive, much more so than some of my friends,” she says. “Initially, after we first moved to Greece on October 7, most of my friends were really encouraging and told me I was doing the right thing. But once we decided to stay on there [before moving to Toronto], some friends dramatically changed their attitude, saying all Israelis need to stay in Israel. I felt a lot of hostility from some of them.”

Gusti Yehoshua-Braverman, who heads the Jerusalem-based World Zionist Organization’s department focusing on Israelis overseas, participated in a recent WZO conference in Florida of representatives of Israeli communities in North America.

For Yehoshua-Braverman, the priority is reinforcing the connection between expatriate Israelis and their homeland and ensuring Israel always has open arms for them.

“No one knows how long these Israelis will live outside Israel,” says Yehoshua-Braverman. “Some will stay for a lifetime. Others will return. One thing I know for sure from our experience, and I say this representing a national, Zionist institution, is that being a Zionist doesn’t necessarily mean living in Israel. What’s important is to keep the bond between Israelis living abroad and the state of Israel, and to keep them rooted in Judaism and the Hebrew language.”