Dec. 2026
Devora M. Liss
Between December 2023 and July 2025, Canada’s Immigration, Refugees and Citizenship Canada Office (IRCC) offered three-year open work permits to people from Israel and Gaza wishing to escape the war. The deal was far from cushy: applicants had to be physically present in Canada and could neither work nor leave the country until being approved—a process that could take anywhere between 2-10 months. Israelis were offered nothing beyond the permit itself and even OHIP was job-dependent.
No official number exists, but the best estimate is that 10,000 Israelis arrived under these federal special measures. This coming year, the first wave of open work permits will begin to expire and the IRCC has yet to offer a path forward.
Settling in Hamilton
During 2023-2025, a handful of Israeli families settled in Hamilton. My family opted for affordable, small-town community over a megalopolis. Hamutal Niv was also drawn by Israelis she’d met through Facebook. “They were helpful and welcoming, making Hamilton the obvious choice for my family.”
The organized Jewish community generously supported the newly arrived Israelis. The Hamilton Jewish Family Services’ Giving Room offered donated household items, free of charge, as well as some financial support and scholarships. Many of the school-aged children enrolled in Kehila Heschel, which welcomed them mid-year and made enrollment financially feasible. Lastly, JHamilton offered welcome baskets, networking and community events, and support for summer camp and extra-curricular activities.
Despite such support, two major challenges threaten to upend the lives we have built in Canada.
Employment Challenges
Besides self-realization and making a living, securing local employment can be instrumental toward gaining permanent residency in Canada. The IRCC rewards applicants for every year of Canadian work experience. For Israelis here on three-year work permits, quickly finding appropriate work became imperative. But this was easier said than done.
“I was willing to do anything,” recalls Hamutal Niv, “cleaning, the supermarket, the dollar store—anything. But employers want Canadian experience. How can I get Canadian experience if nobody will hire me?” A year after receiving her permit, she found employment through contacts in the Jewish community.
Her partner, concert pianist Nadav Greenhut had a similar experience. “The Jewish Federation opened doors for me. I was invited to produce musical arrangements and perform at events, including the Hamilton Jewish Film Festival. Today, most of my private piano students are through the Jewish and Israeli communities.”
Other Israelis, typically those employed in Israel’s lucrative high-tech sector, continued to work remotely. They enjoyed continuous income even before receiving their work permits, but for some this temporary solution has extended for two years—and beyond. Others were fortunate to find local jobs in their fields.
My partner, Netanel Freiman, worked as a systems engineer in Israel for 12 years and continued working part-time after moving to Canada. His employer downsized in May 2026, and he lost his job. Luckily, by September Netanel had secured employment in a physics lab at McMaster University. “I am proud to be contributing to scientific research in Canada,” he says, “and my job is helping me integrate into Canadian society.”
My own journey included 13 months of intensive networking. I appreciate each and every person who gave me their time and introduced me further. JIAS Toronto provided me with a wonderful mentor who supported my job search, helped me prepare for interviews, and cheered me up when things were looking down. Nevertheless, it took me a full year to secure a job and, even then, I had to overcome a number of bureaucratic obstacles stemming from the visa.
That said, employment is only half the story. The other challenge is Canada’s immigration policies, both at the federal and provincial levels.
The Immigration Landscape
Canada has a point-based immigration system, awarding applicants for their age, education, language skills, profession, and work experience. Since the pandemic, federal pathways towards immigration have been increasingly restricted, leading hopeful immigrants to seek entry through provincial programs. Shifts in Ontario’s policies over the last two years have also closed many doors, making it nearly impossible for the Israelis in Hamilton and the GTA to obtain permanent residency.
I-CAN, an advocacy group founded to help these Israelis, has found that many of our strengths are also obstacles. “On average, we are 40 years old and bring 10+ years of professional experience,” says Anna Bronshtein, founder of I-CAN. “We have largely integrated into the Canadian economy as employees, consumers, and tax payers, yet the immigration system is strongly biased towards applicants under 40, regardless of their experience.”
Another bias is the effort to increase Canada’s Francophone population. “I have integrated into Hamilton’s cultural and music scene,” says Nadav Greenhut, “but learning French is currently the only realistic way to keep my family in Canada.”
For Bronshetin, this is a gross misappropriation of resources. “Instead of working, building community, and being productive, Israelis are spending precious time and money to pass a French test. This will not make us Francophones.”
Lara G. and her family arrived in 2024 and settled in Vaughn. They were equipped with a multi-pronged plan for immigration. But over the course of two years, every single possible provincial pathway has closed. “I have resorted to studying French, but by the time I gain points for language, I will have lost points for age. It feels like I can’t get a break.”
A regulated Canadian immigration consultant interviewed for this article sees this as a provincial failure. “Canada welcomed people escaping armed conflict,” she says. “But the provinces haven’t given the people who have settled here any long-term options.” She compares the Israelis to another community escaping war: “The Ukrainians received federal open work permits starting in 2022 and are able to renew them for additional 3 years, which will bring them to 2030.” Still, this is not a permanent solution.
A local immigration lawyer with over a decade of experience agrees. “Historically, Canada has offered special measures to individuals affected by conflict, periodically evaluating the geopolitical situation. The Middle East is still a volatile conflict zone, and it seems unreasonable to deny Israelis the option of extending their work permits.”
Running Out of Time
For the first wave of Israelis who received work permits, the 2027 deadline looms large. Beyond the uncertainty of what future, if any, they will have in Canada, they must concurrently contend with the possibility of returning to Israel—a country that teeters on the brink of war and has fought two devastating, high-causality, and traumatic ballistic wars with Iran in the past 18 months.
My own family was still living in Israel during the first of these wars, which lasted for 12 days. Without a safe room in our home, we moved into a nearby school where the underground shelter offered the glorious possibility of sleeping through the night. Despite the simple luxury afforded by camping mats and reinforced concrete, the trauma ensues. We practiced the 90-second dash, reassuring ourselves how far we could run during a siren. I saw Iron Dome interceptions overhead as I ran down the street pushing a stroller. My children can still vividly recall details from October 7th and the stay in the shelter.
Thus it should come as no surprise that for many families, their children’s well being was a major factor in deciding to come to Canada.
“We came seeking a more stable and peaceful life for our children,” says a mother of three who settled north-west of Hamilton. “If we can’t stay here, I’m worried about my children’s re-integration into Israel.”
Hamutal Niv also values the stability in Canada. “My kids know there will always be school. In Israel, schools shut down with a moment’s notice due to war, or because in times of tension they lack proper shelters.”
Parents, too, report a positive experience, despite the aforementioned challenges.
“If we hadn’t come, I’d have wondered “what if” for the rest of my life,” says Lara G. Yet she recognizes the toll it has taken on her. “My partner and I gave up stable jobs in Israel and have been in survival mode for two years,” she says.
“I didn’t expect it to be easy, but never dreamed it would be so hard for so long,” chimes in another parent.
“Was it worth it?” Niv ponders. “Yes. Unequivocally yes. Despite the challenges, I have made friends and immersed myself in a new community. If we are forced to return to Israel, we will continue trying to obtain permanent residency and return to Hamilton.”
As of print time, the IRCC has yet to publish any guidelines pertaining to the three-year open work permits granted to Israelis.
