‘I could breathe’: The young people choosing to call Israel home post Oct 7

The ongoing Gaza conflict, 12-day Iran war and tense political landscape doesn’t appear to be stopping the youngest members of the Jewish diaspora from making aliyah.

In fact, 2024 was Australia's highest aliyah rate in the past five years – 184 Australians chose to go from down under to up over (aliyah literally translates to rise up). They join the over 32,000 new olim last year, a third of which are aged between 18 and 35.

Avichai Kahana, Director General of the Ministry of Aliyah and Integration, which oversees funding and outreach for aliyah, told The Jewish Independent that he was impressed with the migration figures.

“Usually in a war people are escaping…[the 2024 numbers] are amazing and we’re doing our best,” Kahana said.

So why are so many young people choosing to uproot their local – and comparatively safe – foundations to start a brand new life in Israel? A life where conflict, protest and unrest are a mainstay? We speak with three young olim to find out.

Gabriel, 29, “never planned” on making aliyah. Originally from Perth, Gabriel studied psychology and found himself living a “normal life”. That was, until October 7 – when he started feeling “very powerless and unsettled in Australia”. 

Gabriel didn’t attend a Jewish day school and had a loose connection to Judaism and the Jewish community. When October 7 happened, he was shocked at the lack of global support for Israel. He “had life long friends who immediately came out as very anti-Israel”, and consequently stopped “meeting new friends or going to social things”.

In August last year, Gabriel decided to travel to Israel to volunteer with Shuva Achim, a network of volunteers near the Gaza border that gives free meals, toiletries and support to soldiers between missions. 

“Their sacrifice and stories really inspired me to question what contribution I can make.” On Gabriel’s flight back to Australia he started asking himself, “why not make aliyah? What is actually stopping me?”. 

By the end of November 2024, just two months after returning from volunteering, Gabriel made aliyah to Jerusalem. 

Today, with two weeks left of his intensive ulpan (Hebrew school) classes, he says he very much sees a future for himself in the country. “[I am] happy and where I should be,” Gabriel reflected. “At this point in my life people are settling down… it is quite a big deal to start again. But it’s all very exciting. To be part of Israel today is to be part of a new storyline.”

Sophie* is a 36-year-old mother and make-up artist originally from Sydney. After initially making aliyah back in 2013, Sophie, her Israeli-born husband and their two children have since had multiple back and forths between the two countries.

Living in Israel when October 7 happened prompted Sophie and her family to take one of the immediate repatriation flights to Australia: “[My husband and I] freaked out, with two small children we were in fight or flight, and we chose flight”. 

Upon arriving in northern Sydney, Sophie initially experienced “amazing” support, but quickly felt the effect of rising antisemitism in her area. The stark cost of Jewish education meant her son attended public school, where Sophie felt he wasn’t well protected. “If you can’t afford to send [your children] to a private Jewish school from year-K, what does that mean?,” she said.

After a year in Sydney, Sophie felt she “couldn’t breathe”, but the guilt of being able to choose to leave Israel amidst a war also weighed heavily. Ultimately, the firebombing of the Adass Israel Synagogue became the “final straw”, and her family officially moved back to Israel at the start of this year. 

“Moving [to Israel] comes with the struggles but also the charm,” said Sophie, adding that despite the war, she believes her children “only have a future here”. 

26-year-old Zandra Campbell, who is originally from New Jersey, “had lots of options in front of [her] before aliyah was solidified as a choice”. 

Completing her undergraduate degree in English literature at Princeton University, Zandra “would have probably gone to law school, got a masters in Education, or even a PhD in English literature”. But with a rising feeling of alienation within her community amongst the political left and increasing domestic socio-economic tensions, Zandra “knew in her heart” that she “didn’t want to keep living in the United States”.

Zandra initially considered moving to Jamaica to explore her roots: “It wasn’t until after October 7 that it became obvious to me that I would make aliyah”. 

Through her role on the leadership of Habonim Dror North America, Zandra was flown to Israel for a seminar in March 2024. One year later, she made aliyah to Petah Tikva.

“I felt like I could breathe, life is happening here. No one is worrying about who is evil and who isn’t, and whose story we are telling, people are just being themselves,” she recalled.

For Zandra, aliyah is intertwined with her passion for social justice, education and the need to “carry on the work” of peace activists killed on October 7 in the hope  their “murder wasn’t in vain”.

While the 2024 aliyah figures are considerable, they represent a 42% decrease compared to the last five years.

It’s an outcome taken seriously by Israel, with MK Oded Forer, Committee Chair of Immigration, Absorption and Diaspora Affairs, calling the figures “a badge of shame".

Forer blames budget diversions from Former Soviet Union countries to Western countries like France and America, which have resulted in the overall global “potential of aliyah to Israel… not being realised". Last year, 22,000 of the 32,000 olim were from the FSU (Former Soviet Union).

Kahana clarifies that the Ministry doesn’t “differentiate" between olim, but adds that they “encourage aliyah from the countries we need to make an effort… if we’ve just had a big wave from FSU… so now we need to invest in other countries.”

As a result, a number of investments have been made by the Israeli government to improve aliyah rates from OECD countries. This includes a new professional licensing law that makes licence conversion easier; Olim Together, an aliyah file management project that aims to improve bureaucracy; and academic programs that allow the first year of a bachelor degree to be in either French, English or Russian.  

Looking to the future, Kahana believes these initiatives alongside rising antisemitism in the West will manifest in greater rates of aliyah from France, Britain, North America and “we hope even from Australia”. 

“We need the olim. We want to build [Israel] after the war... so we are waiting for them and we will do our best to integrate them here in Israel,” Kahana concluded.

*Name changed to respect privacy wishes.