Making aliyah
IMMIGRATION | Growing anti-Semitism is leading some Western Jews to make Israel their home
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Ariela Cameron, 22, has long blond hair and speaks with a British accent. As a Jewish student at the University of Birmingham in the U.K., Cameron studied social policy, hoping one day to contribute to a more just society.
But during the Oct. 7, 2023, Hamas attack on Israel, Cameron’s best friend was killed. Her two brothers, after growing up in England, enlisted in the Israel Defense Forces. And for Cameron, campus life changed drastically. Classmates stopped talking to her and refused to do school projects with her. Twice, she says, someone followed her on campus and threatened to kill her with a knife. She hid her Star of David necklace, changed her name for delivery apps, and stopped speaking Hebrew in her student dorm. The stalking prompted her to take up running. “I am pretty fast now,” she says.
Eager to leave England, she flew to Israel for an internship the day after her graduation ceremony.
Anti-Semitism—including harassment, vandalism, and assault—spiked around the world after the Oct. 7 attacks. In 2023, U.S. officials reported an average of three bomb threats daily against American synagogues and other Jewish institutions, 10 times more than in 2022. And in the U.K., the first half of 2024 saw 1,978 anti-Semitic incidents, compared with 964 the year before. In Cape Town, South Africa, Jewish congregations meet in private homes. In Paris, Jews avoid taxis and ride-hailing services. In the Netherlands, a mob engaged in a “Jew hunt” in November, beating and harassing Israeli soccer fans after a match in Amsterdam. The intimidation has gotten so bad some Jews feel compelled to hide their yarmulke cap in public.
As Jewish people feel increasingly unsafe, many have set their sights on Israel. The 1948 Israeli Declaration of Independence states that “the state of Israel will be open for Jewish immigration and for the Ingathering of the Exiles”—and that provision is as relevant today as after the Holocaust. Although thousands of residents left the country following the Oct. 7 attacks, Israel has also seen thousands of newcomers—including a notable increase in Jewish immigration applications from Western countries. Whether they come to escape cultural hostility or to enjoy a sense of belonging, the new arrivals are calling Israel home.
The word for Jewish immigration to Israel, aliyah (literally, “ascent”), alludes to the Biblical concept of going up to the temple in Jerusalem for holidays like Passover. Many Christians see the return of the Jewish people to their ancestral homeland as a fulfillment of Biblical prophecy.
The first wave of aliyah, occurring before the state of Israel was founded, was a result of anti-Semitism in Russia. During the 1903 Kishinev pogrom, locals took to the streets, killing, raping, and looting, sending shock waves through Jewish communities and compelling tens of thousands to emigrate.
More than a century later, many Jews facing physical or cultural threats still feel drawn to Israel as their homeland.
Dror, 55, grew up in North America and made aliyah 10 years ago. When she returned to North America for work, she found an influx of Arab immigrants in her Jewish neighborhood. Worried for her safety, she concealed her identity, even removing the small mezuzah, or Scripture parchment, from her door.
After the Oct. 7 attack, her local synagogue stopped celebrating Jewish holidays in public, and Dror eventually stopped wearing the yellow ribbon meant to support the hostages. Although she planned to wait until retirement to return to Israel, she has decided to come back sooner: “It is the safest place for all Jews.” (WORLD agreed to use a pseudonym because she still fears for her safety.)
Rotem Ben-Simhon, an immigration lawyer at the Jerusalem Institute of Justice, has seen a trend in cases like Dror’s. Before the war, she handled an immigration case once a week or month. Now she receives calls for help from immigrants every day, she says.
The Jewish Agency for Israel, a semi-governmental organization that helps new immigrants integrate, said 30,132 people moved to Israel in 2024. Although the overall number of immigrants is fewer than in previous years, that’s because the number of Russian and Ukrainian immigrants, the largest cohort, has declined amid the Ukraine-Russia conflict. Aliyah from Europe and North America, meanwhile, has increased—by 69% in Western Europe and 24% in the U.S. and Canada, when comparing the first 11 months of 2023 and 2024.
Yigal Palmor, the organization’s head of international relations, called anti-Semitism a definite motivating factor, but he also pointed to other pull factors, like family members, ideology, and a sense of belonging. “Israel has a pioneering spirit, and the country offers many opportunities,” he said.
Bob Sherbin, 67, moved with his wife from California to Israel three days after his retirement last March. He says he was tired of being immersed in an “anti-Israel environment” in Silicon Valley. In Israel, he says, he experiences a “deep, rich, meaningful sense of community, optimism, courage, and a commitment to move on with life.” Sherbin studies Hebrew in the mornings, goes on bird-watching outings, participates in a Scrabble club, and says he feels connected: “Israel is a land of immigrants; there is a closeness to what really matters.”
Bella Schwimmer, a nurse, and her husband Joseph, a dentist, made aliyah with their four children last August. Their decision to immigrate was sparked by a family visit to Israel and a cracked joke, “Wouldn’t it be so nice to live here?” More motivation: Back in New Jersey, the Schwimmers said, Joseph and his two boys would sometimes get honked at or shouted at with anti-Semitic slurs while walking to synagogue.
In Israel, the Schwimmers appreciate how Shabbat and other Biblical holidays are integrated into the culture. For Rosh Hashana, the Jewish new year, they picked pomegranates, the traditional holiday fruit, from a tree in the backyard. The only American thing they miss is hot dogs.
For Ariela Cameron, immigrating felt less like a choice and more like the last reasonable option. Now finishing up her internship at the Jerusalem Institute of Justice, she is preparing to submit her aliyah paperwork, which will give her Israeli citizenship.
“Even though my best friend was killed on Oct. 7,” she said, “I feel safer here than in England.”
—Esther Arnusch is a World Journalism Institute graduate living in Jerusalem
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