Since October 7, Israel has been fighting not only a military war and a diplomatic campaign, but also an unprecedented global battle over perception. In many parts of the world, the image of Israel is now shaped less by official statements and mainstream media, and more by TikTok clips, WhatsApp videos, Instagram stories, and personal testimony shared in real time.
This new information battlefield has exposed a difficult reality for Israel. Governments may still cooperate with Jerusalem strategically, but public opinion in many countries is increasingly influenced by emotional narratives, viral content, and fragmented digital ecosystems that traditional diplomacy struggles to penetrate.
Yet, amid this challenge, Israel has overlooked one of the most credible and potentially influential communities already living inside the country: foreign workers.
They arrived to work in construction, agriculture, caregiving, hospitality, and industry, but in practice, many of them have become informal ambassadors for Israel.
They live here, they experience Israeli society firsthand, they sit in bomb shelters during sirens, work in fields near the Gaza border, care for Israel’s elderly, help rebuild cities and infrastructure, and interact daily with Israeli families and communities.
Most importantly, they communicate constantly with relatives, friends, and followers abroad.
In an age where authenticity often carries more weight than official messaging, that matters enormously.
The transformation began after Hamas launched the October 7 massacre. The near-total halt in Palestinian labor entering Israel created severe shortages in sectors heavily dependent on that workforce, particularly construction and agriculture.
Israel brings more foreign workers from abroad
In response, Israel dramatically expanded the recruitment of foreign workers from around the world. Tens of thousands arrived from countries including India, Thailand, the Philippines, Sri Lanka, China, Moldova, and Uzbekistan.
By the end of 2025, approximately 226,000 foreign workers were employed in Israel’s main labor sectors. They came from around 100 countries.
According to the latest figures released by the Central Bureau of Statistics, at the end of 2024, the leading countries of citizenship among foreign workers with valid work permits included India, Thailand, China, the Philippines, Uzbekistan, Moldova, and Sri Lanka.
These are not marginal audiences. They represent large societies, active diasporas, major labor-exporting countries, and important diplomatic partners.
There is a vast human network connecting Israel to communities across Asia, Eastern Europe, and beyond.
These workers communicate through platforms that Israeli public diplomacy often struggles to reach effectively.
They speak Hindi, Thai, Tagalog, Sinhala, Mandarin, Russian, Romanian, and many other languages. They belong naturally to audiences that official Israeli spokespeople rarely access with credibility or cultural fluency.
A short video uploaded by a foreign agricultural worker near the Gaza border may reach villages in Thailand or India more effectively than any carefully crafted government campaign.
A caregiver sharing life with an Israeli family during wartime can communicate something no press briefing can replicate: lived experience.
Precisely because these individuals are not official representatives of the Israeli government, their voices may be viewed as more trustworthy.
This is one of the defining realities of modern public diplomacy. People increasingly trust what feels personal over what feels institutional.
For decades, Israel invested heavily in traditional advocacy focused largely on Western media and English-speaking audiences, and that approach still matters.
However, today’s information environment is radically different. Much of the world no longer consumes information through formal channels alone. Narratives spread horizontally through communities, influencers, workers, families, and peer networks.
Foreign workers already operate within those ecosystems naturally.
Importantly, they also present a fuller and more human picture of Israel than many international audiences normally see.
For millions abroad, Israel appears almost exclusively through the lens of war, terrorism, protest, and geopolitics. Foreign workers encounter another side entirely: hospitals, farms, schools, buses, markets, workplaces, neighborhoods, and families. They witness Israeli society not only during moments of crisis, but also during ordinary daily life.
This does not erase the conflict, and nor should it. Nevertheless, it adds complexity and humanity to an international conversation that is often flattened into slogans.
At the same time, this reality imposes responsibilities on Israel itself.
If foreign workers experience exploitation, unsafe housing, withheld wages, loneliness or bureaucratic neglect, those stories travel too.
They are shared with relatives, communities, and social media audiences abroad. In today’s world, mistreatment is not simply a labor issue; it quickly becomes a national reputational issue.
Conversely, when workers experience fairness, protection, dignity, and appreciation, those experiences also become part of Israel’s story to the world.
Public diplomacy, therefore, begins long before a press conference or embassy campaign. It begins with working conditions, legal protections, and daily human interactions.
This became even more profound after October 7 because foreign workers were not merely observers of the violence; some became direct victims of it.
Asian and African agricultural workers were murdered, abducted, and wounded during the Hamas attacks. Their suffering forged an emotional connection between Israel and their countries of origin that extends far beyond economics.
The relationship is now deeply human.
In many private conversations, diplomats and officials from countries supplying labor to Israel quietly note something remarkable: despite the war, despite the uncertainty, and despite the security risks, many foreign workers chose to remain.
Some even developed strong emotional ties to Israel and to the people they encountered here.
That fact should not be underestimated.
It demonstrates that many workers are responding to something beyond financial opportunity alone. They are building relationships with Israeli society itself. They are witnessing resilience under pressure and often discovering warmth, solidarity, and humanity that contradict the caricatures frequently presented abroad.
Israel should recognize the strategic importance of this reality.
Foreign workers are not merely labor units filling economic gaps. They are part of Israel’s long-term relationship with the world. They are human bridges connecting Israeli society to communities across continents.
That is why Israel must adopt a broader mindset, one that sees foreign workers not only as a labor force, but also as a potential influence on the community.
In my many and regular discussions with ambassadors and diplomats of countries that send foreign workers, these types of ideas are floated frequently.
Nevertheless, this does not mean propaganda or manipulation.
On the contrary, the strength of these voices lies precisely in their authenticity. The goal is not to script narratives, but to ensure that the experiences people carry home from Israel are grounded in dignity, fairness, and mutual respect.
At the same time, Israel must ensure that foreign labor remains fully regulated, transparent, and legal. Responsible labor policy strengthens bilateral relations, protects workers and employers alike, and prevents exploitation that could damage both Israel’s moral standing and its diplomatic interests.
In the social media age, diplomacy no longer belongs only to governments.
Sometimes it begins on a construction site in Tel Aviv, inside a greenhouse near the Gaza border, in a nursing home in Haifa, or during a late-night video call home after a rocket siren.
In the age of TikTok, WhatsApp, and personal testimony, every foreign worker in Israel is not only a pair of working hands. They are also a pair of eyes, a voice, and potentially one of Israel’s most credible bridges to the world.
The writer is the chairman of the Center for Jewish Impact, member of the advisory board of the Combat Antisemitism Movement, and a former CEO of the World Jewish Congress and World ORT.