October 7 Never Ends

A Lethal Blow to the Soul of a Nation

A short personal note:

Since the morning of Saturday, August 31, I have written several pieces which were outdated within hours. Some within minutes.

Shortly after noon, I sat dockside at a cottage north of Toronto. I had just finished a long, hard, open-water swim. It was my birthday. And it was a perfect, glorious, sunny warm day.

I watched the livestream of the weekly Saturday night rally in support of hostage families in Tel Aviv on my phone; the rage of a nation scorching my eyes and ears. The dissonance was striking.

In a few days we will mark 11 months since October 7. Initially, the shock turned to unity, of sorts. We were at war so we must be unified. Even though the population remained deeply divided.

The chasms can no longer be pretended away and as with any suppressed reality they are now surging, deeper and wider than ever. For two months now the heads of all security-related institutions in Israel as well as an overwhelming majority of the population have been advocating fiercely for a deal to release the remaining hostages. If they are not freed they will surely die. And at the rally last night, Israeli actor, Lior Ashkenazi, expressed the anger of a nation.

Now. Outside IDF HQ in Tel Aviv. Massive demonstration. Photo: Maya Naftolin

Today is dark.

The murder of six Israeli hostages by Hamas, disclosed by the IDF early Sunday morning (IST) was a lethal blow to Israel. And I will let the bereaved families’ words resonate. There is nothing to add.

Each Saturday night rallies are ogranized in support of the hostages and families in Tel Aviv.

Tragically, the civilian NGO behind these events - the Hostage Family Forum - has now been around for much longer than anyone likely ever imagined would be possible or necessary. Their productions have become more sophisticated. And more heart wrenching.

On Saturday night there were several key elements. The name of each hostage remaining in captivity was called out at least once, as their photograph and age appeared on the large screen.

No one will be left behind.

This was happening as rumors began to spread about the retrieval of the bodies of six hostages. Photographs were posted on a Telegram account. “Influencers” who chose not to wait for an official announcement from the IDF pounced to post their scoops online.

Very early on Sunday morning, Israel time, IDF Chief Spokesperson, Daniel Hagari, faced the camera, yet again. To confirm the murders by Hamas, very recently, of Ori Danino, 25; Eden Yerushalmi, 24; Almog Sarusi, 27; Alex Lobanov, 33; and Carmel Gat, 40; Hersh Goldberg-Polin, 23.

Prime Minister Netanyahu chose to hide. He recorded a video message which was released hours after Hagari spoke. Hours after President Biden had issued a written message. Hours.

In the time leading up to this dreadful confirmation, the hostage families poured out their hearts and souls to a nation crippled with grief. There are limits to human resilience. This betrayal of the national ideal and idea is very, very serious. The families’ pleas, so eloquent last night, are searing indictments today. Yes. Hamas terrorists pulled the triggers that caused the death of the six long-suffering hostages. But that is only a part of the story, not the beginning, middle and end.

And so, I bring you the words of those who spoke on Saturday night, as translated and published by the Hostage Family Forum:

Agam Goldstein-Almog, 17

Agam lived on Kibbutz Kfar Aza with her family. Her father, Nadav, a triathlete recovering from recent back surgery, was murdered by Hamas terrorists who invaded the family home. Agam, her mother and siblings had to walk around his body as they were forced from their home and into their car. Taken to Gaza.

Her older sister, 20-year-old Yam, was shot in the head of the floor of the family bathroom, lying prone, after one of the terrorists had seen her army uniform in her bedroom.

Agam’s mother, Chen, was taken hostage with her three surviving children. (You can watch Chen’s testimony given to the USC Shoah foundation here. This takes you to the home page where you will enter Chen Almog-Goldstein in the search bar. Also of interest may be this summary (in the Jerusalem Post) of an article written by Agam and published recently in the Washington Post and not available to non-paying subscribers. She describes returning to a world seething with hatred, as well as the abuse she endured as a hostage and since.)

Agam is an extraordinary young woman, with a poise and intelligence that are incredible for any age, but particularly one so young. When she was released from Hamas hell, IDF soldier, Agam Berger (who recently marked her 20th birthday in captivity) asked Goldstein-Almog to phone her father and wish him Happy Birthday. The day of Agam Goldstein’s release was the birthday of Agam Berger’s father. And that she knew to send him good wishes. That she had the presence of mind to do that.

Before the crowd of thousands on Saturday night, Agam Goldstein-Almog said that she did not feel she had anything to say. What is there to say? But she did speak, so movingly. She spoke of finding life and a way of moving forward after being among the living dead in the tunnels. She spoke about beginning her upcoming pre-army mechina year – a one-year program that many young, idealistic Israelis choose to do in order to focus on particular interests and to learn more about their country. In fact, the pre-army mechina program was developed in the years following the assassination of Prime Minister Yitzhak Rabin in November, 1995, when there was a sense of despair and corroding national values. The mechina programs were meant to address that perceived deficit by giving these young adults a pause between civilian life and their compulsory army service, to learn and understand these issues with greater depth and clarity.

And so, Agam Goldstein-Almog is about to begin a new adventure. And as she contemplates that new beginning, she thinks of all those hostages incarcerated with Hamas monsters in tunnels. She remembers having spoken with the other young women in captivity and hearing how much they enjoyed their mechina experiences. But they are buried alive. The living dead. And Agam feels deep pain moving forward while they are trapped.

In her own words:

I stand before you today after losing my father and sister, after being released from a life within death, after running through the tunnels of Gaza, after meeting hostages who endured severe abuse. I stand here today to tell you that there is life after death. But I cannot describe how difficult it is for me to start a new life here while lives are ending there. How hard it is to look forward when their faces are before me all the time. How can I begin to process my immense loss when I'm constantly afraid of losing more people? How can I start without telling you about those still in captivity?

Agam then addressed the young women who had been held captive alongside her and who remain in captivity:

As happy as you are for me, I told you there that I missed the entrance exams for the preparatory program. I told you how much I wanted it and that I was afraid it wouldn't happen. You looked me in the eyes, smiled, told me about the programs you did, and promised me I would do one too. You weren't lying. But you never believed for a moment that I would start a program while you were still there. I'm starting something new, and every day you think about the things you've missed, the dreams you have to fulfill, the hugs with family, a trip abroad, a sense of security and love. I'm grateful for life all the time, but I can't enjoy it when you're crying for help from there. New beginnings are important, but I want you to start this year remembering that there are 107 people who fear the end every day.

Sahar Kalderon, 17

Sahar Kalderon, 17 years old, was released after 52 days in Hamas captivity along with her 12-year-old brother Erez. Her father, Ofer, remains a hostage:

My father is my whole world! I can't live without him! I won't give up on him! Please, country, don't betray me for the second time!

Just before they separated me from my father in captivity, he said a few things that are etched in my soul: 'Go to protests and fight for me. I'm afraid of dying here and being forgotten.' Dad! I'm doing everything and fighting for you, and I won't stop until you return, but it's not enough. I need the help of the country and the government!

My father is screaming his soul out, and I feel it deep inside me. I feel everything he feels. I feel the responsibility on my shoulders, and if he doesn't come back, I'll feel guilty for the rest of my life. Don't let this happen!

Throughout, tears stream down her face. Her voice chokes. It is painful to watch.

Devorah Idan

Devorah is the mother of Tzachi Idan (who turned 50 in captivity) from Kibbutz Nahal Oz. His eldest daughter, Ma’ayan, was murdered in front of the family, in their safe room. His wife, Gali, has said that he was utterly broken in that moment. Unresponsive. Robotic. Totally unlike the strong, protective husband and father he was. And then, in that indescribable moment, Hamas terrorists took him to Gaza. In Devorah’s words:

330 days have passed, and we're still in the same nightmare of the massacre, the pogrom that took place in Tzachi's house in front of Shahar, 10, Yael, 12, and his wife Gali, who witnessed the murder of their beloved sister Ma’ayan and the kidnapping of their father. They begged and cried for the terrorists not to kill their father. I call on all educators from here. Principals, counselors, teachers, and parents. Educate the younger generation to understand that the greatest strategic asset of the people of Israel is only its citizens, the citizens of the State of Israel. Educate and lead them in light of Jewish values of preserving human life, mutual responsibility, and social solidarity. Let every student return to their parents' home and demand to hear what they are doing today to save our hostages. Do this today, before it's too late.

Yael Adar, mother of the late Tamir Adar

Three generations of the Adar family have lived on Kibbutz Nir Oz since its founding. Readers will recall the images of 85-year-old Yaffa Adar, sitting in a golf cart being driven by Hamas terrorists. She was wrapped in a blanket and appeared remarkably serene. Upon her return to Israel she said that she understood well what was going on and that the last thing that she would do would be to capitulate and show weakness. Yaffa Adar was determined to hold her head high and represent the strength and character of Israel. When she learned that her grandson, Tamir, had been murdered in captivity, desolation overcame her. In the words of her daughter, Yael:

Tomorrow I will accompany Tamir's children, my grandchildren…to second grade and kindergarten. For the first time, they are going without a father, without a hug and without a kiss and without wishes for a good year from dad. My 4-year-old granddaughter says - Dad is not here - he's dead but we need to bring his body back from Gaza. In kindergarten, she will encounter the empty chair of Ariel Bibas. They celebrated his 5th birthday in kindergarten - without him, they will open the school year without him. What are we teaching these children? What kind of citizens will they grow up to be in the absence of protection and commitment between the citizen and the state? Government of Israel - members of the Knesset - coalition and opposition - cabinet - wake up - tomorrow a school year opens and the children of Israel - our next generation are watching you.

What, she asks, have we become?

Eloquent and heart rending, Lior Ashkenazi spoke of the higher purpose of the nation, to provide a safe haven for Jewish people; to honor the promise of security and leave no one behind.

Leave no one behind. The sacred promise that has been defiled.

How, he asked, do we raise our children in a moral vacuum? When civilians are dragged from their beds in pajamas and held in underground dungeons? How do we explain to them why their fathers, brothers, sisters, loved one’s lives do not matter? That they are “collateral damage”?

What have we become?

On Saturday night, a video was shown, in part, of family members who had travelled to the Gaza border last Wednesday. Among those participating were Rachel and Jon Goldberg-Polin, the parents of 23-year-old American-Israeli hostage, Hersh. They have been tireless in advocating and raising awareness of the hostage plight. Rachel – a diminutive woman – bellowed into a microphone a prayer she has been chanting each day on her meditative walks taken since October 7. “Hersh. If you can hear us, we love you. Stay strong. Survive.”

On October 7, Hersh had been at the Nova Music Festival. When the rockets hammered southern Israel early that morning, he went to a tiny roadside bomb shelter, jammed with close to thirty people. Hersh was one of three survivors of the carnage after Hamas threw multiple grenades into the shelter, murdering more than 20 immediately. He emerged with his dominant left hand (which he used to try to catch and throw a grenade) having been blown off. Somehow, he managed to apply a tourniquet, which saved his life.

Almost eleven months later, after surviving unspeakable horrors in Hamas tunnels, Hersh was murdered, brutally, a short distance from where his parents lamented and keened. On Wednesday. And how they had hoped.

I hope that Hersh at least knew how they tried. So hard. Before he was murdered.

Everything that Israel values and represents is bound up with the fate of the hostages. If we forsake them for the Philadelphi Corridor, then, we have to ask: What have we become?

Closing Note: As we publish this piece, I am watching the live-stream of mass protests in Tel Aviv, outside the Kirya – IDF HQ. Shira Albag is speaking with Yonit Levy, the anchor of channel 12. Shira’s daughter, Liri, is an IDF soldier who turned 19 in captivity. How she maintains her composure is a marvel, but she does. And she said many things tonight, including this: “We have been asking since October 7 why more Israelis do not take to the streets to demand that the government bring the hostages home. Sadly, it seems that this event (the murder a day or two earlier of six hostages) is finally going to achieve that.”

She added at the end of her brief live interview: “When we last met with PM Netanyahu he said that he, too, wants to bring the hostages home. He just didn’t say how. I want them home alive.”

Well. Tonight, Israelis will respond to the Prime Minister’s indifference. The rallying cry is to show up to fight this regime of abandonment; that has abandoned the hostages and betrayed the nation. It is unfolding now. My daughter, who is at Kaplan, says that this is the most intense and largest demonstration she has experienced. Online, I am reading that there are no more buses available to transport people from across Israel to Tel Aviv. This is a fury that cannot and will not be contained. We truly are on the brink. And it’s not a good brink.