There is a certain amount of travel complacency in the West. We can travel almost anywhere and expect to be welcomed with open arms. We converse in our own language and share stories about our background without fear of somehow aggrieving the locals. It is unfathomable that we might face discrimination, hatred, or even violence. The same cannot be said for Israelis.
Southeast Asia is an increasingly popular destination for young travellers. I was fortunate enough to spend a month in Vietnam, where I expected to meet a diverse range of nationalities. Truthfully, however, I did not expect to meet Israelis.
Sitting in a restaurant in Hoi An one evening, I was astonished to hear the couple beside me speaking Hebrew. Knowing full well they were Israeli, I asked them where they were from. They were visibly sceptical, as if they had faced this same question countless times in the last year.
Chabad House in Hoi An. Hours later it was completely full. Pic: Tom Steed
In our ensuing conversation, they told me how difficult it was to travel as an Israeli in 2024. They had resorted to telling people they were from Cyprus, Malta, or Italy, somewhere believable based on their skin complexion but where an accent is not immediately recognisable.
Of course, Israelis always remain proud and resilient. Many continue to feel unrestricted. But as this couple explained, hiding their true identity was sometimes easier, safer, and made for a more enjoyable travel experience. And you can understand why.
A 2022 study by Israel Hayom revealed that Turkey was the most popular tourist destination for Israelis, followed by the US, France, Italy and Greece. Yet, just recently, an Israeli couple were told they were not welcome at an Italian hotel they had booked and were described as being “responsible for genocide”.
Pic: Tom Steed
In Amsterdam, Maccabi Tel-Aviv fans were horrifically targeted by violent mobs in a premeditated attack. Later that month, Rabbi Zvi Kogan was kidnapped and murdered in the UAE in what Benjamin Netanyahu described as an “abhorrent antisemitic terrorist attack”. And across Europe, America, Canada, and Australia’s largest cities, the aggressive, hate-filled protests are now unavoidable.
In Vietnam, none of this was apparent. Naively thinking my Israeli encounter was some wonderful coincidence, I quickly discovered group after group of young Israelis travelling the length of Vietnam, just as I was doing. Vietnam has a permanent Jewish population of around 300 hundred people. Yet, when I visited the Chabad in Hoi An, one of three in the country, there were so many people that our Shabbat dinner literally spilt onto the road.
I discovered a small but thriving community of expatriates doing their best to create a home-from-home for Israelis and diaspora Jews alike. In this instance, the Chabad was supported by a team of Vietnamese locals who, politics and religion aside, were eager to engage in the hospitality and custom.
Vietnam. Pic: Tom Steed
In Hanoi, ‘Bring Them Home Now’ stickers were frequently visible and evaded being torn down. In Hue, Magen Davids stood proudly amongst other graffiti in the well-visited Hồ Thủy Tiên waterpark. And in Sa Pa, almost every shopfront translated their displays into Hebrew, not English.
I asked a shop owner why everything was in Hebrew. She told me that, having also worked in a hotel, Sa Pa was a notorious hot spot for Israelis, so it was only logical. This was not uncommon in Vietnam. In Nha Trang, for example, menus, signs, and shopfronts appeared in Russian. When I asked if she had considered changing this in the last year, she looked at me oddly, as if to say, “Why would I do that?”
Southeast Asia has always been a popular travel destination among Israelis; many of the signs in Sa Pa date back to 2017 or earlier. However, there was a sense that Israeli tourism in Vietnam had increased since October 7th. This was a country that prioritised itself and was eager to accommodate everyone. Tourism and hospitality were at the centre of everything. There was no hint of political agenda nor any real interest in foreign affairs. Perhaps there was even a degree of empathy; Vietnam and Israel do share remarkably similar war-torn histories.
As a British Jew, I, too, felt the warmth of Vietnam. In Hoi An, a local silversmith gladly sat down with me to design and create a Magen David necklace. I had always imagined doing this in Israel, but somehow, it felt just as special. That I’m unsure whether I’d feel as comfortable getting this done in London highlights the West’s problem with antisemitism and perfectly encapsulates why Israelis are escaping to Southeast Asia instead.
- Tom Steed is a recent graduate of history, specialising in Holocaust Studies, from Edinburgh University
