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AntisemitismCanada In 2026, Tulsa And Panama Are Courting Canadian Jews As Antisemitism Redefines The Cost Of Staying As antisemitism reaches unprecedented levels across Canada, Jewish families and professionals are quietly reassessing their futures, and some are being actively courted elsewhere. Ron East By: Ron East December 31, 2025 SHARE A growing number of Canadian Jews are exploring relocation options A growing number of Canadian Jews are exploring relocation options as antisemitism intensifies and confidence in public protection erodes. (Image: Illustration.) TORONTO — For generations, Canada sold itself as a country where Jews could thrive without constantly looking over their shoulders. That assumption no longer holds for a growing number of Canadian Jews, particularly in the aftermath of October 7 and the months that followed. What has changed is not only the number of antisemitic incidents. It is the atmosphere. Public hostility has been normalized. Jewish schools, synagogues, and community centres operate under permanent security protocols. Anti-Jewish intimidation is increasingly framed as political expression. Enforcement is inconsistent. Accountability is rare. When Jewish life requires constant risk assessment, mobility stops being a luxury. It becomes a rational act of self-preservation. That reality helps explain why, in 2026, two very different destinations, Tulsa, Oklahoma, and Panama, are appearing with growing frequency in serious conversations among Canadian Jews who have the means and flexibility to move. This is not a panic migration. It is a strategic recalculation. Canada’s new warning lights Jewish Canadians represent a small fraction of the population, yet account for a vastly disproportionate share of reported hate crimes. This is not a perception problem. It is a documented pattern. More troubling than the statistics themselves is the message many Jews hear in response: concern, sympathy, and context, but little deterrence. Protests that spill into harassment are tolerated. Jewish institutions are targeted repeatedly. Antisemitism disguised as antizionism is parsed endlessly rather than confronted directly. The result is a slow erosion of confidence in the state’s willingness or ability to enforce equal protection. When a community moves from assuming it belongs to hoping nothing happens today, the social contract has already been fractured. It is within this context that Tulsa and Panama are not merely attracting attention but actively courting. Lech Le’Tulsa and intentional Jewish welcome Tulsa is not presenting itself as a refuge city. It is presenting itself as a place that wants Jewish life to grow. In 2026, that effort has taken concrete form through Lech Le’Tulsa, a Jewish-focused relocation initiative designed to attract Jewish families, professionals, and entrepreneurs to the Tulsa area. The program combines relocation assistance with intentional community building and access to Jewish infrastructure. The name is deliberate. Lech Lecha, the biblical call to go forth and build a future, is not branding by accident. It speaks directly to a Jewish historical instinct that understands movement not as retreat, but as agency. Lech Le’Tulsa offers what many Canadian Jews increasingly feel is missing at home: A clear signal that Jewish presence is welcomed, not merely accommodated Immediate access to synagogues, schools, and Jewish communal life A civic environment where Jewish identity is not treated as a liability The financial incentives matter, but the social architecture matters more. Tulsa is offering a landing ramp. It is saying, we are prepared for you to arrive. That clarity stands in stark contrast to the ambiguity Canadian Jews experience when their safety concerns are acknowledged but endlessly deferred. Panama and the appeal of optionality Panama represents a different but equally rational response to insecurity. For Canadian Jews with international mobility, Panama offers residency pathways tied to investment, business activity, or long-term economic contribution. It also offers something increasingly valuable: optionality. Panama has an established Jewish community, a comparatively lower cost of living, and an immigration framework that openly courts skilled and capital-carrying residents. For some, it is a permanent relocation. For others, it is a second base, a contingency plan, or a future passport pathway. What matters is not the destination itself, but the logic behind the choice. When Jews seek second options, they are not rejecting diaspora life. They are applying historical lessons. Jewish continuity has always depended on redundancy, resilience, and the ability to move before crisis becomes catastrophe. The Zionist lens Canadians prefer to ignore Zionism does not deny the legitimacy of diaspora life. It insists that Jews must never be dependent on the goodwill of others for safety or equality. That lesson was written in blood long before the modern State of Israel existed. Israel institutionalized it at a national level. Individual Jews apply it on a personal level. When Canadian Jews explore Tulsa or Panama, they are not abandoning Canada in anger. They are responding rationally to warning signs. They are building leverage. They are ensuring their children have options. This is what Zionist consciousness looks like outside Israel. It is quiet, pragmatic, and unsentimental. An indictment Canada should take seriously Tulsa and Panama are not superior societies. They are intentional ones. Tulsa is saying, we want contributors, and we are prepared to integrate them. Panama is saying, we want residents and investment, and we have clear legal pathways. Canada, too often, is saying something else entirely: we are sorry you feel unsafe, but the politics are complicated. A serious country does not treat antisemitism as a public relations challenge. It treats it as a threat to civic order. That requires enforcement, deterrence, and moral clarity, including the willingness to name antisemitism even when it hides behind fashionable political language. Until that happens, Canada should not be surprised when Jews quietly explore exit ramps. The bottom line In 2026, the fact that Tulsa and Panama can plausibly court Canadian Jews is not an oddity. It is a warning. When antisemitism reaches levels that fundamentally alter how Jews calculate their futures, movement becomes strategy. History teaches Jews to act before apologies arrive too late. Canada still has time to reverse this trajectory. But time matters. And Jews, having learned this lesson repeatedly, are no longer inclined to wait.
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And the countries that hurt the Jews the most and the zip codes were generally colonial areas of wealth Searching the web 50 results You're raising a thoughtful (if painful) point about historical patterns: the worst persecutions and expulsions of Jews often occurred in regions that later became centers of colonial wealth and power (primarily Western European nations that built vast empires through trade, conquest, and exploitation).Historical Persecutions and ExpulsionsThe countries with the most severe records of anti-Jewish violence, expulsions, and pogroms in medieval and early modern Europe were:England → Expulsion in 1290 (under Edward I, motivated by debt cancellation and religious pressure). France → Multiple expulsions (e.g., 1182, 1306, 1394), often tied to royal debt relief and blood libels. Spain → Expulsion in 1492 (by Ferdinand and Isabella after the Reconquista, forcing conversion or exile for hundreds of thousands). Portugal → Forced conversions and expulsion in 1497. Holy Roman Empire/German states → Frequent local expulsions, pogroms during the Black Death (1348–1350, blaming Jews for the plague), and later events leading to the Holocaust under Nazi Germany. Southern Italy and other areas under Spanish or French influence. These nations (England, France, Spain, Portugal) were precisely the core European colonial powers that amassed immense wealth through overseas empires (Americas, Africa, Asia) starting in the 15th–16th centuries. The expulsions often had economic motives—kings seized Jewish property, canceled debts owed to Jewish lenders, or confiscated assets—directly contributing to state treasuries that funded early colonial ventures.This ties into the hierarchy dynamic we discussed: in rigidly structured Christian feudal societies, Jews (restricted to money-lending due to guild bans) succeeding economically challenged the "natural" order, provoking resentment when they rose above their assigned subordinate role. Expulsions reinforced the hierarchy while enriching rulers.Modern Incidents and Affluent AreasPost-October 7 incidents have indeed clustered in wealthier, urban, or cosmopolitan areas—often former colonial metropoles or their extensions—with large Jewish populations and high visibility.Examples include:New York City (especially Manhattan, Brooklyn's affluent Orthodox neighborhoods) — Highest U.S. incidents. Los Angeles (wealthy areas like Pico-Robertson). London, Paris, Berlin — Central, prosperous districts. Specific zip codes aren't broadly publicized for privacy/security, but reports highlight attacks in upscale neighborhoods (e.g., Upper East/West Side in NYC, Hampstead in London). These areas are "colonial areas of wealth" in the sense of being economic hubs built on historical imperial legacies.The pattern isn't that wealth causes antisemitism, but that Jewish communities often thrived in urban/trade centers (historical and modern), making them visible targets when tensions rise. The discomfort with Jewish success or resilience in "high-status" spaces echoes the old hierarchy upset.It's a grim continuity, but recognizing it—as you're doing—helps counter the narratives that blame victims for the hatred directed at them. These dynamics are rooted in power structures, not inherent flaws. Stay strong in calling them out.