It was the moment Israelis had been yearning for. On Sunday afternoon, 471 long days after they were seized by Hamas in the blackest hour of Israel’s history, three young hostages made the painstaking 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 beginning of a multiphase deal that offers a chance to end the brutal war in Gaza, and the hope of freedom for dozens more hostages after more than 15 months of torment for them, their families and the nation.
But Israelis’ joy and relief at the release is laced with anguish at what the coming weeks will reveal. Israeli officials believe at least half of the remaining 94 hostages are dead. And many doubt the fragile truce will last long enough for all to be returned.
“There is this dichotomy between this state of mind where this might be the last day [of life] for their husband or child — and the possibility that that same person might be sleeping in the room next door by next week,” says Udi Goren, whose family is waiting for 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 immense disparity between these two emotions.”
For the past 15 months, the fate of the hostages has been seared into Israel’s national consciousness. Their faces from happier times have been plastered and replastered on buildings and billboards from Haifa to Eilat. Details of their lives fill daily news bulletins. Rallies demanding the government act to secure their release have become a weekly fixture.
But as the clock ticked towards the truce this weekend, alongside the hopes that at least some would finally be freed, there were reminders of how volatile the situation remained. Missiles from Yemen set off the eerie howl of air raid sirens across the country. In Tel Aviv, a Palestinian stabbed an Israeli before being shot dead by a passer-by.
Meanwhile, Israeli warplanes continued to pulverise Gaza into Sunday morning, bringing the death toll in the shattered enclave since the deal was announced last week to more than 140, according to Palestinian officials.
“There is a glimpse of hope, but it’s not the light at the end of the tunnel,” said Daria Giladi, as she and a friend joined a rally in support of the hostages in downtown Jerusalem on Saturday evening.
“You’re happy people are coming home, you’re happy the war is going to be over, even for a short while. But there’s still such a long way to go. It’s only a third of the hostages who are supposed to come back [in the first six-week phase of the deal]. So it’s not enough.”
Even for relatives of the 33 hostages due to be released in the first phase of the deal — when children, women, the sick and the elderly will be freed — the uncertainty is acute.
Sharone Lifschitz’s parents, Yocheved and Oded, life-long advocates of coexistence with the Palestinians, were both seized on October 7. Yocheved was freed 17 days later. But the family has no idea of Oded’s fate. When Yocheved returned, she told her family he was dead. But hostages released a few weeks later in a truce in November 2023 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 the enormity of what it would mean for a frail octogenarian shot in the wrist during Hamas’s assault to have survived so long in Hamas captivity.
“We all fight for him with the belief that, until we know otherwise, we want him back. If his fate and his strength held, and he found a way to survive against all odds, we’re so looking forward to seeing him,” says Lifschitz, her voice catching.
“[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 somehow survive when his health is not strong and he is injured. It’s very hard to wish that on anybody — let alone on a father you love so much.”
For families whose relatives are not due to be freed until the second and third phases of the deal — when the remaining living male hostages, and then the bodies of those who have died, will be returned — the uncertainty is greater.
When the previous seven-day truce and hostage-for-prisoner exchange took place in November 2023, freeing 110 of the 250 hostages originally seized, many in Israel hoped that it would spawn further such deals, and that the remaining hostages could be brought back soon as well.
But what followed was 14 months of false dawns, as Israel and Hamas repeatedly failed to strike a deal, and the number of living hostages steadily dwindled. Claims by far-right ministers in Benjamin Netanyahu’s government to have repeatedly thwarted an agreement have outraged hostages’ relatives. And it has left those with relatives not due to be released until stages two or three fearing their time may never come.
Among them is Herut Nimrodi, whose then-18-year-old son Tamir was seized in his pyjamas, barefoot and without his glasses, from his military base near the Erez crossing in the early hours of Hamas’s attack.
Nimrodi knows the exact time — 06.49am — of their last message, when Tamir contacted her and said rockets were landing in the base. The family found out 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 marked his 20th birthday without knowing “if he even reached 19”.
“I know that my son’s name is not on the list [for release in the first phase], because he is a soldier, and we’re terrified,” Nimrodi says. “What I fear is not only that we will not get to the next stage. But also that [once the first group have been 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 do come back, the return will just be a first step. Lifschitz says her mother is coping “better than most of us” with the return from her imprisonment.
But for those who have spent more than 15 months in captivity, the process is likely to be far harder. Hostages previously released have spoken of being kept in cages, or complete darkness, of being drugged and beaten, and in some cases of suffering or witnessing sexual abuse.
Hagai Levine, a physician working with a forum supporting the families of hostages, said in a press briefing last week that he expected “every aspect of [hostages’] physical and mental health will be affected”. “Time is of the essence — recovery will be a long and excruciating process,” he said.
But for all the angst over the challenges ahead, families are desperate for the process to begin. “Everyone in Israel — and of course the families — needs closure. We are a wounded society right now. We’re in trauma. We didn’t even start the post-trauma yet,” says Nimrodi. “We need to heal. And to see hostages coming back is a healing process for us as a community.”
Lifschitz agrees. “We know that so many hostages are not alive and we will have quite a few funerals and shivas [mourning periods] to sit through,” she says. “But at least, there will be a kind of closure. We will know. At least we will know.”
