From the NHS to Israel: Why British Jewish doctors are considering Aliyah

An NHS psychiatrist whose patient refused medication because she was Jewish. A dentist whose former manager allegedly suggested Jews had little reason to complain because they were not being sent to the gas chambers.

Both are considering leaving Britain for Israel, although neither sees antisemitism as the sole reason for moving.

They are among British Jewish medical professionals exploring opportunities in Israel, where hospitals are seeking overseas recruits to address staff shortages.

Around 150 British doctors attended MedEx UK at JW3 in north London on Sunday, according to organisers, meeting Israeli medical recruiters to discuss employment, licensing and the practicalities of making Aliyah.

For some, experiences of antisemitism and growing isolation in Britain have brought forward plans to move. Others have long wanted to live in Israel and hope to contribute their skills to its healthcare system.

The event came amid an increase in British Aliyah. Figures released by The Jewish Agency for Israel show that 890 people moved from the UK to Israel in 2025, compared with 704 in 2024 and 377 in 2023.

A further 445 made Aliyah between January and July this year, including 39 people working in medicine or other healthcare professions.

Among those preparing to leave is Sophie (not her real name), an NHS psychiatrist who had expected to spend another five to ten years working in Britain before moving to Israel.

Instead, she hopes to make Aliyah in August 2027, shortly after completing her specialist training.

She said her decision had been brought forward by experiences since the Hamas attacks of 7 October 2023, including an incident in which a patient refused medication because she was Jewish.

“I had one patient say they didn’t want to take medication from a Jewish doctor,” she told Jewish News.

The patient was experiencing psychosis, she explained, making it difficult to establish what had prompted the remark.

Sophie raised the incident with her consultant and team leader but said she was unaware of any formal investigation. She subsequently stopped treating the patient.

She also described challenging the choice of a speaker invited to address her medical training programme because of social media activity she considered inappropriate.

Following several weeks of correspondence and support from senior Jewish consultants, the talk was cancelled.

The decision prompted objections from some colleagues, with one reportedly describing it as “anti-Palestinian racism” in a WhatsApp group.

Sophie said she was relieved that colleagues did not appear to know she had raised the concerns.

She has also felt uncomfortable seeing colleagues wear pro-Palestinian badges and watermelon symbols on psychiatric wards, where she believes political displays are inappropriate given the vulnerability of patients.

But beyond individual incidents, she described a growing sense of isolation.

“You just feel lonelier and more isolated, but equally you feel more conspicuous in a way,” she said.

A small group of Jewish staff at her workplace has established a support network on Microsoft Teams, providing a place to discuss concerns and share experiences.

Her account comes amid wider scrutiny of antisemitism in the NHS.

In September, vascular surgeon Muhammad Khalil, formerly of Aintree University Hospital in Liverpool, was suspended from the medical register for nine months after a tribunal found that his social media posts were antisemitic. They included the words “Death to Israel” over a Star of David.

Separate figures reported this month showed that six doctors had received General Medical Council sanctions following antisemitic allegations involving 169 doctors since October 2023, with 34 cases still under consideration.

An independent review led by Lord John Mann in June highlighted discrimination and workplace isolation among Jewish NHS staff. The 2025 NHS staff survey found that 13 percent of Jewish employees reported discrimination from managers or colleagues, while the review warned that some were considering leaving the service.

The government accepted recommendations to improve reporting procedures, training and staff guidance. In a parliamentary update on Tuesday, health minister Karin Smyth said NHS England was introducing training on antisemitism and improving procedures for investigating racism complaints, although several recommendations remain outstanding.

You just feel lonelier and more isolated, but equally you feel more conspicuous in a way.

Yet not every Jewish doctor considering Aliyah has personally experienced antisemitism.

Elizabeth, a family doctor whose name has been changed, said her own workplace had remained supportive.

“In my own workplace, thankfully, I have not personally experienced antisemitism. I work alongside other Jewish doctors and my own experience there has been fine,” she said.

Her concerns stem partly from accounts shared by other medical professionals.

“But I am in Jewish doctors’ WhatsApp groups, and I hear what other doctors are experiencing. There are reports of antisemitism being tolerated in wider professional groups and of people feeling that administrators are not dealing with it appropriately.”

She hopes to settle in Jerusalem and continue practising family medicine.

For another prospective immigrant, the decision represents a change she would have once considered unthinkable.

Tammy, a resident doctor whose name has also been changed, had expected to spend her entire medical career in Britain.

“I never planned to practice medicine anywhere other than the UK,” she said in testimony supplied by organisers.

Her husband had raised the possibility of Aliyah before they married, but she initially resisted.

“But the world changed, and my perspective changed with it. In the end, I was the one who said we were making Aliyah.”

She is also drawn by the prospect of raising her family somewhere where Jewish festivals and religious observance are part of everyday life.

For Shlomo, a 59-year-old dentist whose name has been changed, Israel is already a familiar territory.

He previously lived and worked there before returning to Britain to raise his children. Now that they are older, he hopes to go back.

He recalled an incident in which a former clinic manager allegedly made a remark suggesting that Jews had little reason to complain because they were not being sent to the gas chambers.

Shlomo said he did not pursue a complaint because it would have been his word against the manager’s.

But he was equally keen to emphasise the positive relationships he had built during his career in Britain, including with Muslim nursing colleagues.

He has always been openly Jewish at work, including wearing a kippah, and does not regard his decision to move as an escape.

“I’m not running away from the UK,” he told Jewish News.

Returning to Israel will mean rebuilding his professional reputation, but he believes he still has something valuable to contribute.

That distinction between leaving Britain and choosing Israel is one Raffy Ellis understands well.

The British-trained doctor moved to Israel after completing his medical education and foundation training in the UK and now works in hospital and community healthcare in Jerusalem.

“I moved to Israel because of the pull to Israel. I didn’t feel pushed out of the UK,” he told Jewish News.

Ellis said he had enjoyed living in Britain and was saddened to hear that some Jewish doctors now felt uncomfortable remaining there.

His own move, however, was motivated by a desire to build a life in Israel.

He returned to London for MedEx to speak to doctors considering the same transition, offering practical advice about adapting to a different medical system.

“I think that challenges exist, but they’re surmountable,” he said.

He also described cooperation between Jewish, Muslim and Christian colleagues in Israeli hospitals, where staff from different backgrounds work alongside one another caring for patients.

Another British medical professional who has made the move is Daniel Lipczer, who left the UK for Israel in 2005.

A former NHS manager at St Thomas’ Hospital in London, he is now Director of Medical Personnel at Terem, an Israeli urgent care provider.

His career illustrates how experience gained in British healthcare can be applied in Israel beyond direct clinical practice, particularly in medical recruitment and staffing.

For doctors making the move, adapting to a new healthcare system can be one of the biggest challenges.

British GP Rivka Lebrett, who moved to Israel with her husband around four and a half years ago, established a WhatsApp group to help English-speaking doctors navigate the process.

The network has grown to more than 700 members from Britain, the United States, Australia and elsewhere, providing advice, professional contacts and practical support.

Her husband told Jewish News that it also helps connect English-speaking patients with doctors.

I moved to Israel because of the pull to Israel. I didn’t feel pushed out of the UK.

Israel’s recruitment drive comes amid longstanding concerns about its medical workforce, particularly outside the country’s main population centres.

According to figures cited by MedEx organisers, Israel has approximately 3.5 practising doctors per 1,000 residents, compared with an OECD average of 3.9.

The Bank of Israel has warned that changes to the recognition of foreign medical qualifications could reduce the number of newly licensed doctors by between 400 and 600 annually from 2026, before efforts to expand domestic medical training take full effect.

Shortages are especially pronounced in parts of the Negev and Galilee, where recruiting and retaining specialists has proved difficult.

Psychiatry, family medicine, oncology, radiology, rehabilitation and emergency medicine are among the areas where additional staff are being sought.

Government representatives also outlined financial incentives for eligible doctors willing to work in underserved regions, including grants of 300,000 shekels over three years, rising to 400,000 shekels for those who also live there.

The event forms part of the International Medical Aliyah Program, launched in 2024 with the aim of bringing 2,000 doctors to Israel by 2029.

Israel’s Minister of Aliyah and Integration, Ofir Sofer, described attracting overseas physicians as a national priority.

“Encouraging physicians to make Aliyah is also a national priority, strengthening Israel’s healthcare system by bringing highly skilled professionals whose expertise is greatly needed,” he said.

But attendance at a recruitment event does not mean every doctor will emigrate, and the accounts of those interviewed cannot establish how many Jewish medical professionals are leaving Britain because of antisemitism.

For Sophie, however, the decision is no longer hypothetical.

She attended MedEx to meet Israeli hospitals, discuss possible jobs and clarify how her medical qualifications could be recognised.

She hopes to practise psychiatry, particularly helping people affected by trauma following the 7 October attacks and subsequent war.

Working in Hebrew will be challenging, especially in a speciality where communication is central to treatment. But she believes the experiences she has gained in the NHS could be put to valuable use.

Sophie has always imagined making Aliyah eventually. What she had not expected was to leave Britain so soon after completing her medical training.

By next summer, she hopes to be preparing for a new career in Israel. The NHS will have trained another specialist who has chosen to build her future elsewhere.