Archaeologists are the unsung heroes in Israel’s recovery after the October 7 massacre.
As the events unfolded, revealing the extent of physical damage and the urgent need to locate the missing, Israeli authorities understood that this was a job for highly skilled professionals, trained to meticulously search for light in darkness. Though ZAKA, the military, and other critical agencies played key roles in searching for the missing, for many, their closure came from the quiet role played by archaeologists at the scenes of October 7’s many destructive and deadly events.
As the day’s horrific events unfolded, leadership from the Israel Antiquities Authority immediately stepped in, understanding that the search was not just for objects but for human remains that had been burned, fragmented, and hidden under the rubble.
Assaf Peretz, an archaeologist and field photographer with the IAA, was among the first to be called in to help.
“We were summoned right away, and I went down immediately,” Peretz recalled. His expertise in identifying bone fragments easily was crucial, as many of the bodies had been burned at such high temperatures that identifying them visually was often the only option available.
Peretz, trained in archaeology but not in dealing with modern mass casualties, quickly adapted.
“It felt like my whole career has prepared me, and directed me to this particular occasion and challenge, with everything I previously did in my career,” he said. “This showed me that everything I had learned through the years was able to put me into a position to really help [in the aftermath].”
Peretz’s team worked in the immediate aftermath, treating each devastated house and open scene like a crime scene or archaeological excavation. Teams worked on their knees, slowly sifting through ash and debris.
“We focused on ashy areas, concentrations of ash within the bushes... people tried to escape... the terrorists found them, shot them, and lit their bodies.... We split the area into different contexts and excavated accordingly,” Peretz explained.
The work was methodical, each piece of evidence bagged and labeled with its exact location to ensure a thorough record of the scene. Peretz emphasized that this approach was essential because DNA identification was not always possible – human remains had been subjected to such extreme conditions that DNA was frequently too degraded to use.
'It’s like my whole career prepared me for this particular challenge'
Dr. Yoav Arbel, another archaeologist with the IAA, joined the operation two weeks after the massacre, when over 100 people were still missing.
“We were summoned to go down South and search for the remains of the missing,” Arbel explained to The Jerusalem Post. “It was extremely important that we discover as many remains as possible to give their families closure and honorable burial.”
As an archaeologist, Arbel was used to working with ancient remains, but this was a different challenge. “It was odd to get into so many houses... these are places where people lived before, alive, just like us... and we’re, in a way, violating their privacy by getting into their houses without permission,” he reflected. Unlike in traditional digs where ancient objects and remains are treated as artifacts, this situation was personal – these were people who had lived just days before.
Arbel’s team arrived shortly after Peretz and his colleagues began their work. Reflecting on the gravity of the situation, Arbel noted, “We never anticipated being placed in such a position in our career... it’s like my whole career prepared me for this particular challenge.” For these archaeologists, the tools and methods they had mastered over decades of studying the ancient world became the means to help identify those who perished in the worst massacre Israel had experienced in recent memory.
Arbel’s observations aligned with his earlier reflections in his paper (“Let No One be Left Behind: Search Operations by the Israel Antiquities Authority for the Missing Persons from October 7, 2023,” published in the weeks following the disaster), where he described the haunting silence that replaced once vibrant communities. “A different silence engulfs the white houses, grass lawns, manicured gardens, and winding paths of the kibbutz. It is not a gentle, rural silence... this place was hit by a storm, and the aftermath silence was heavy, battered, and stunned.”
For Arbel and his colleagues, this was more than a professional task; it was an emotional reckoning with the destruction of entire communities.
Despite the emotional toll, both Peretz and Arbel spoke about the meticulousness of the process. The team divided the scenes into “contexts” or “loci,” which allowed them to systematically identify and excavate potential remains.
Peretz’s team, working under high-pressure conditions, focused on sifting through debris from burned homes, often finding pieces of bone and personal items amid the ash.
“Every spoonful of dust and ash was sieved, and each piece of potential evidence was bagged and labeled,” Peretz explained.
The archaeologists’ experience in handling ancient sites was key to ensuring the remains were properly documented.
However, the work was not without emotional challenges. Arbel described the psychological impact of excavating in homes where people had lived only weeks before.
“Some of us may be affected in ways that will continue to have an impact... people react in different ways.... You never know how you’re going to react until you actually experience it,” he said, acknowledging that the emotional strain on the team would continue long after the work was finished.
Arbel’s paper also highlighted the intense and somber nature of their work, especially in the aftermath of the attack.
“We were there to restore identities to the dead, to dress with a searing bandage the wounded souls of their families, and to help, perhaps, in the process of cure,” he reflected, underscoring the unique emotional weight of this mission for archaeologists.
Despite the emotional and logistical challenges, the archaeologists were driven by a deep sense of purpose: to bring closure to the families of the victims. Arbel explained: “In many houses we found hanukkiot.... We put them in a special corner... so families can come. I think a hanukkiah like that would probably go as a family legacy from generation to generation.”
These efforts were not just about recovering bodies but about recovering memories, preserving family legacies amid the destruction.
While the archaeological teams led the recovery of remains, they also worked closely with other agencies. The Military Rabbinate, which had experience with initial body collection, worked alongside the archaeologists. Soldiers provided security and sometimes joined in the excavations. Forensic archaeologists and labs were involved in the identification and DNA analysis of remains, ensuring that every effort was made to confirm the identities of the victims.
Arbel clarified, “Even though we had a pretty good idea who we were finding... we never made a final identification. That’s only done in the lab.”
This careful and systematic approach ensured that the work was thorough and accurate, providing families with the closure they desperately needed without making premature assumptions.
ONE OF the most poignant stories was that of Shani Gabay, whose remains were identified 210 days after the attack.
Shani had been working at the Supernova music festival, when she was on the phone with her parents, hiding in a shelter with friends. Tragically, she was later killed while hiding in an ambulance with 17 others.
The months of uncertainty were filled with agony for Shani’s mother, Michal, who shared that the waiting was unbearable.
“The waiting was the hardest part,” Michal recalled. “Not knowing was unbearable. Every day felt like an eternity, but when the archaeologists recovered the necklace and her teeth, I could finally hold on to something that was truly hers. It was a piece of Shani that we could take with us.”
When the archaeologists discovered Shani’s necklace with a pendant and two of her teeth, it helped confirm her identity and gave her family a tangible link to her memory.
“The necklace with a pendant was discovered right at the spot where she was now understood to have been murdered,” said Michal, attending the opening of the permanent exhibition “Rising from the Ashes: Archaeology in a National Crisis,” at the Jay and Jeanie Schottenstein National Campus for the Archaeology of Israel, in Jerusalem. This small but significant item allowed the Gabay family to say their final goodbyes and find some closure.
For Michal, the identification was not just about recovering her daughter’s remains, but about reconnecting with the memories of Shani that had been lost. “I’ll always cherish that necklace. It will be a family legacy, passed down from generation to generation. It’s a piece of Shani that we can keep forever.”
Attending the exhibition, Michal was able to thank the archaeologists personally for their careful and compassionate work.
“I will never be able to thank them enough for what they did for us,” she said, her voice trembling with emotion.
“They gave me the chance to lay my daughter to rest properly. They helped me say goodbye when I thought I never would.”
For Michal, the recovery of Shani’s remains was a long-awaited moment of peace in a journey marked by unimaginable pain.
Peretz recalled another emotional case, where he found personal belongings that had survived a fire. Inside a burnt-down home, he uncovered 15 photographs and a few charred drawings made for the grandfather, who had been murdered. “We came out of it with it to the family outside – the family had survived – but we brought them that, and they thanked us because that was the last remains from their parents.”
Peretz’s words revealed the magnitude of the task at hand. He was not just unearthing the past, but offering families a way to reconnect with the lost fragments of their loved ones.
The experience was a humbling one, but it also revealed the enduring strength of the archaeologists involved.
“The experience was a privilege, a humbling experience,” Peretz reflected. “It allowed me to do my part in helping families and my country. But it’s not something that you walk away from unchanged.”
For many archaeologists, the emotional toll of the work will stay with them long after the final identification has been made and the last remains have been recovered.
THE EXHIBITION was designed to be an emotional journey, moving from shock and loss to resurrection and hope. It is not intended for children, and is open only to groups with professional guidance.
“Rising from the Ashes” was brought to life by the IAA in partnership with the Heritage Ministry and Tekuma Administration.
Eli Escusido, director of the IAA, noted that the exhibition’s timing, around the fast of Tisha B’Av, which commemorates the destruction of the Temples, was a deliberate choice. He emphasized that the IAA has a duty to “preserve, document, and ensure the survival of the memory of the most difficult episodes in our history, from which we must grow and learn.” The exhibition, he believes, is an act of deep preservation, transforming fragments of destruction into a building block of national memory.
The involvement of archaeologists in the aftermath of the October 7 massacre was a remarkable testament to their skills, resilience, and commitment to preserving the past, no matter how tragic. Their work has helped bring closure to families who lost loved ones, offering them the ability to say goodbye and to find some peace amid the ashes.
In the end, these archaeologists showed that even in the face of unimaginable violence and destruction, the work of preserving history and memory remains a crucial part of healing and moving forward.