It was the moment the Israelis had longed for. On Sunday afternoon, 471 long days after being captured by Hamas in the darkest hour of Israel’s history, three young hostages made the arduous journey from imprisonment in Gaza to freedom in their homeland.
The release of the three women – Romi Gonen, Emily Damari and Doron Steinbrecher – marked the start of a multi-phase deal that offers a chance to end the brutal war in Gaza and the hope of freedom for dozens of other hostages after more than 15 months of ordeal for them, their families and the nation.
But the Israelis’ joy and relief at the release is tinged with anxiety about what the coming weeks will reveal. Israeli officials believe at least half of the 94 remaining hostages are dead. And many doubt the fragile truce will last long enough for everyone to return.
“There’s this dichotomy between this state of mind where this could be the last day (of life) for their husband or their child – and the possibility that the same person could be sleeping in the next room next week,” says Udi Goren. , whose family is awaiting the return of the body of his cousin Tal Haimi, who was killed on October 7 and then taken to Gaza.
“I don’t think words can describe the vast disparity between these two emotions.”
For the past 15 months, the fate of the hostages has entered Israel’s national consciousness. Their faces from happier times are plastered and re-plastered on buildings and signs from Haifa to Eilat. Details of their lives fill the daily news bulletins. Rallies demanding government action to secure their release have become a weekly fixture.
But as the clock ticked towards a ceasefire this weekend, alongside hopes that at least some would finally be freed, there were reminders of how volatile the situation remained. Rockets from Yemen set off the eerie wail of air raid sirens across the country. In Tel Aviv, a Palestinian stabbed an Israeli before being shot dead by a bystander.
Meanwhile, Israeli warplanes continued to pound Gaza into Sunday morning, bringing the death toll in the devastated enclave since the deal was announced last week to more than 140, according to Palestinian officials.
“There is a glimmer of hope, but it is not light at the end of the tunnel,” said Daria Giladi, as she and a friend joined a rally in support of the hostages in central Jerusalem on Saturday evening.
“You’re happy that people are coming home, you’re happy that the war is going to end, if only for a little while. But there is still a long way to go. It is only a third of the hostages that are supposed to be returned (in the first six-week phase of the agreement). So it’s not enough.”
Even for relatives of the 33 hostages who will be released in the first phase of the deal – when children, women, the sick and the elderly will be released – uncertainty is acute.
Sharone Lifschitz’s parents, Yocheved and Oded, lifelong advocates of coexistence with Palestinians, were both arrested on October 7. Yocheved was released 17 days later. But the family has no idea about Oded’s fate. When Yocheved returned, she told her family that he had died. But the hostages released weeks later in a November 2023 ceasefire said they had seen him alive.
And so for the past 15 months, the family has waited, hoping against hope for Oded’s safe return, while grappling with what it meant to have a fragile eight-year-old shot in the wrist during the attack. of Hamas to have survived so long in Hamas captivity. .
“We all fight for him in the belief that, until we know otherwise, we want him back. If his luck and strength held and he found a way to survive against all odds, we can’t wait to see it,” says Lifschitz, her voice drawling.
“(But) he saw the destruction of everything he fought for. And then he had to be in the hands of the people who caused (that destruction). And he had to survive somehow when his health is not strong and he is injured. It’s very difficult to wish that on anyone – let alone a father who loves him so much.”
For families whose relatives will not be released until the second and third phases of the deal – when the remaining living male hostages are returned and then the bodies of those who have died – the uncertainty is greater.
When the previous seven-day ceasefire and hostage-for-prisoner swap took place in November 2023, freeing 110 of the 250 hostages initially held, many in Israel hoped it would lead to other such deals and that the remaining hostages could they came back again. also quickly.
But what followed was 14 months of false dawns, as Israel and Hamas repeatedly failed to reach an agreement and the number of hostages alive dwindled steadily. Claims by far-right ministers in Benjamin Netanyahu’s government that they have repeatedly blocked a deal have angered relatives of the hostages. And it has let those with relatives not be released until the second or third stages, fearing that their time may never come.
Among them is Herut Nimrod, whose then-18-year-old son Tamir was seized in his pajamas, barefoot and without glasses, from his military base near the Erez crossing in the early hours of the Hamas attack.
Nimrod knows the exact time—6:49 a.m.—of their last message, when Tamir contacted him and said missiles were falling on the base. The family discovered he had been seized when one of her daughters saw a video on Instagram. But in the months since they have had no indication of his condition. In November, they celebrated his 20th birthday, not knowing “if he had even turned 19“.
“I know my son’s name is not on the list (for release in the first phase) because he is a soldier and we are terrified,” says Nimrodi. “What I’m afraid of is not just that we won’t go to the next stage. But even that (after the first group is released) the lobby (for further releases) will become much smaller, because there will be fewer hostages, and they are only men.”
Recognition is also widespread that, even for those who return, return will only be a first step. Lifschitz says her mother is coping “better than most of us” with her return from incarceration.
But for those who have spent more than 15 months in captivity, the process is likely to be much more difficult. Previously released hostages have spoken of being kept in cages, or in complete darkness, of being drugged and beaten, and in some cases of suffering or witnessing sexual abuse.
Hagai Levine, a doctor who works with a forum that supports hostage families, told a news conference last week that he expected “every aspect of (the hostages’) physical and mental health would be affected.” “Time is of the essence – recovery will be a long and torturous process,” he said.
But for all the anxiety about the challenges ahead, families are desperate for the process to begin. “Everyone in Israel – and certainly families – need closure. We are a wounded society now. We are traumatized. We haven’t even started the post-trauma yet,” says Nimrodi. “We have to heal. And seeing hostages return is a healing process for us as a community.”
Lifschitz agrees. “We know that so many hostages are not alive and we will have many funerals and shivas (mourning periods) to sit through,” she says. “But at least, there will be some kind of closure. we will know. At least we’ll know.”
